God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (9 page)

My gaze drifted downwards. There was a small hoop in the corpse’s right nostril, just like Dede had. The surgical steel was slightly warped, the curve scorched. My stomach clenched, bittering my mouth. Could it be …?

Then I looked at the teeth. Enamel would burn, same as bone – it just took longer than flesh and hair. Halvie bones and teeth were especially strong. The body’s teeth were in full view, the lips having been charred into ash. My heart kicked me in the ribs.

This wasn’t Dede.

A few years ago, when Dede had been a teenager, she’d had a huge crush on the lead singer of the halvie band Diamond Dogs. The singer – he was called Rufus or something – had a diamond embedded in his right front tooth. Dede had gone out and had a diamond put in hers as well. It hadn’t been all that noticeable unless the light caught it.

The body on the slab did not have a diamond in its tooth.

I lifted my gaze to the doctor’s. He was watching me, his broad shoulders rigid. I could sense his anxiety almost as though it was my own. There was something devious going on here. Something secretive enough that it was worth putting me, Val and Avery through hell thinking our sister was dead. And that meant it was something I wanted to get to the bottom of.

Burning a corpse was the only way to destroy its scent as well as ruin any distinguishing features. It was a fantastic way of concealing identity. As efficient as it was, it was also very drastic. Someone truly wanted us to believe that Dede was gone. I hoped this poor girl had already been dead when they did this to her.

“It’s her,” I said, low and careful. “It’s our sister.”

Val put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed, turning slightly so that he held me against him. I hugged him back, but I kept my peripheral attention locked on the doctor and caught his barely perceptible sigh of relief.

If I pounded his skull into the floor would he tell me the truth, or would he take it to his grave? I was tempted to find out, and I wasn’t bothered that murderous thoughts occurred to me with such careless ease.

I stood back as Val thanked the doctor for his time and he went through all the motions of a professional. The more I watched him, the more I was convinced he was lying. I didn’t say anything to Val as we were escorted from the lab by the same security guard. I didn’t want anything to get back to the doctor – either via the guard or through listening devices that might be concealed nearby. Plus, Val wouldn’t believe me. He thought Dede was exactly the weak and broken kind of girl who would go mental and set herself on fire. Avery thought the same. Even if I told them about the tooth, they would fight me.

They believed she’d killed herself because they’d seen her headed in that direction for years, and now they didn’t have to worry about her any more. They’d tell me I was the foolish one for thinking differently. They’d argue that she had had the tooth fixed.

We took the lift back up to the ground floor. Val stopped at the security desk to retrieve his gun and I took a few moments to look around and get an idea of just how secure the building really was. I would be coming back soon. It still scared the child inside me, but now it pissed me off as well. These walls held the truth about Dede, and I was going to find it.

Val’s rotary buzzed as we stepped outside. It had stopped raining and the day had that slightly warm dampness I often associated with spring. It was going to be a humid night.

We paused so he could check the message. “Digigram,” he said, referring to the electronic telegrams sent between wireless devices. “The Yard has new information on a member of the Insurgent Army who they think was involved with the theft at PAH.”

The IA was like the Human League, but was made up of halfbloods as well as humans. They didn’t believe in the superiority of any race, but held that the aristocracy was a dictatorship ruled by fear and that Victoria should be forced to step down as monarch. They wanted a democracy where half-bloods weren’t bound to the peerage, while the Human League’s goal was to obliterate anything that wasn’t human.

I had more respect for the League than I did for the IA. Going against your own kind was just … wrong.

“Good,” I heard myself reply, though my thoughts were still on Dede. What could anyone hope to gain by falsifying her death? Had it something to do with our father? The Duke of Vardan was an important man, but any villain would be better served by kidnapping Dede and demanding a ransom rather than pretending she was dead. “If you see this halvie, ring me asap,” Val said, bringing me back to the moment. “She’s dangerous.” He handed me his mobile so I could see the photo.

My breath caught in my throat as I gazed at the person captured by hospital cameras. It was a bit grainy, but I recognised the face – and the blue hair.

It was Fee, the halvie whose life I’d saved the night before.

Avery made me wear black to work that night. She told me I should call in and take my bereavement leave, but the last place I wanted to be was stuck at home with her and Val as they pored
over old photo albums and drank too much wine. They might be in mourning, but I wasn’t. So I slipped into a black satin evening gown that had enough give for me to fight, and tugged on matching gloves and a pair of pointy-toe boots before setting off on the Butler.

I was right – it was a humid night. Warm, damp air tugged at the pins in my hair as I drove toward the gates of Mayfair. They would have cool air circulating at the party to keep all those fast metabolisms comfortable. That was another reason why it made more sense to me to move the Season to the winter months, when it not only stayed dark longer, but was cooler as well. But Queen V was a stickler for tradition in many ways, hence why I was in a gown rather than my usual kit.

Tonight’s party was at the Duke and Duchess of Somerset’s home. Theirs was one of the houses rebuilt after the Great Insurrection. The next house down the street had been left a ruin, the family who owned it destroyed in the fire. It stood as a memorial to all the aristos lost that awful day, and had been turned into a beautiful garden, filled with night-blooming plants and vines that climbed over the charred stone. I took a deep breath of floral-scented dampness.

It was just after 11.30 p.m., and the guests were due to arrive shortly. My task this evening was to prowl round the perimeter of the party and make sure all was secure. Of course, each couple or individual would have their Peerage Protectorate detail lurking nearby, but the Royal Guard had to be wherever a royal might show up, and Bertie, the Prince of Wales, was on the guest list.

Mayfair parties hadn’t changed much since Victoria took the crown. They were still overcrowded and overheated. Fortunately sweat was more prevalent amongst humans than aristos, and hygiene was considered a friend to all, so the smells of the evening stayed relatively pleasant. Supper was put out, mostly for the
halvies, though some aristos nibbled on the fare. There was also a variety of blood on hand, as well as rare beef for the weres, who often preferred to eat, rather than drink, the protein their evolved bodies craved.

The blood came from willing donors – often humans related to aristo families. Mandatory blood donation for healthy humans over the age of eighteen had been put into place fifty years ago. Every three months, British citizens were required to give a pint. Some of this blood went to human hospital blood banks. The rest went to aristos. There was also a supply of foreign blood – purchased from America, Canada, Mexico and other human-rich countries. China was a huge supplier. I had no idea if the rumours were true, but it was said that foreign blood tasted more exotic than domestic.

Some of the other RGs came up to me and offered their condolences – news of Dede’s death had travelled fast, all the more so because of the scandal attached. I took each well-meant word as it should be taken, and thanked my colleagues, even though I wanted to scream from the rooftops that it wasn’t true. I held myself together well, until my father approached.

The Duke of Vardan wasn’t an overly tall man – somewhere in the vicinity of six feet. His thick wavy hair was dark and his eyes were the same clear green as mine. He was as handsome as he was intimidating.

“My dear Alexandra,” he said, giving me a quick, loose hug. I wanted to lean into him and hold him a little longer, absorb some of his strength, but he moved away before I could. “I heard you went to New Bethlehem today. I’m so sorry you had to go through that ordeal.”

It was a sign of his age that he referred to Bedlam by its proper name. “Thank you, Father, but it had to be done.”

He shot me a sympathetic look. “The burden should have been mine, child. Not yours.”

Tears prickled the back of my eyes at that simple admission. I blinked them away.

He stepped closer, so that his arm almost brushed mine. Not a speck of lint could be seen on the fine black wool of his jacket. His cravat was impeccably knotted. He was the perfect gentleman in every respect.

“Are you certain it was Drusilla?” he asked me softly.

I started. Did he have the same misgivings as I had? Or was he simply clinging to the hope that his child was alive? Regardless, something inside me stopped me from answering truthfully. He was regarding me in a way that made me paranoid that maybe he thought I was delusional. Val or Avery – or Church – must have said something to cause him concern about me.

“As certain as I can be, sir.” The lie slipped off my tongue with all the ease of butter gliding across a hot dish.

He seemed almost relieved, and I knew my suspicion was right.

“You look pale, my dear. Are you taking care of yourself? Getting your injections, making certain you eat properly?”

Anyone else and I would have rolled my eyes, but it warmed me knowing he was so concerned about my welfare. In addition to individually prescribed supplements, halvies got vitamin shots once a month. Every three months I had to get an extra shot because of some deficiencies I’d suffered since childhood. It was certainly no great scandal, but it added to how freakish I’d felt when I was younger. “I’m well, sir. Only mourning the loss of my sister.”

“Of course you are.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Make certain you take the full amount of leave. You are a good girl, Alexandra.”

I preened, though I knew he’d probably say the same to Avery – or to Dede. “Thank you, Father.”

He left me shortly after that, so that I could return to my duties. First, I paid a visit to the refreshment room. All manner of delicacies and sustenance was laid out for the guests’ pleasure, including a platter of live Russian leeches raised on a diet consisting solely of the blood of virgins fed the best beef and the purest vodka. Apparently aristocrats of vampiric nature considered them a delicacy.

I didn’t share the sentiment. Wiggly, slimy little buggers.

I stole several slices of ham from a plate and wrapped them in a bun before ducking out to do my usual checks. I ate as I walked.

At the end of the corridor was a set of French doors that led out on to a terrace. There were similar doors upstairs in the ballroom on to a balcony that not only overlooked the garden but had stairs down to it as well. It was a perfect place for someone to gain entry into the house, especially during a busy party.

Chewing the last bite of my crude sandwich, I opened one of the tall doors and slipped out into the night. It was warmer out here than inside, but I didn’t mind it so much. The darkness smelled of jasmine – Dede’s favourite – and I sucked in a deep breath.

I will find you.

Sighing, I lifted my skirts and walked down the shallow steps to the gravel path. Nearby, shrubbery rustled, though there wasn’t much of a breeze. I reached behind me and took the Bulldog from the holster secured beneath the bustle of my gown. I didn’t expect any trouble, but I would rather have a gun in my hand that I didn’t have to use than not have one when it was needed.

Of course, the gun wasn’t needed. There was no sign of human activity, nor whiff of stink on the air – other than that of horse. I finished my patrol and was coming back around the terrace – near
the stairs up to the first-floor balcony – when I smelled a familiar tobacco. I turned towards it and saw Church standing by a stone pillar, smoking one of his specially blended fags that smelled slightly of clove and cardamom. He was not alone. Vex MacLaughlin was with him, also smoking.

Both of them watched me as I approached. The MacLaughlin’s luminescent gaze was almost academic in its studiousness. I lifted my chin, determined not to be intimidated, or reduced to girlish flutters, no matter how tempting the latter was. Did he know what Fee had done? Was he protecting her, or had he turned her over to the Yard?