Lies Ripped Open (12 page)

A group of insane idiots who’d claimed to be from the
Vanguard
, a paramilitary-style pro-Camelot organization, attacked
Tartarus with the aim of releasing Cronus. They succeeded, but were all killed by their own allies to keep them from talking. Those same allies—a coven of witches—ended up putting a number of children in harm’s way, just so they could continue Hera’s insane plan to free Cronus.

“You know they wouldn’t,” I said. “You’re still watching those witches, I assume.”

“Indeed we are. Officially we’re still concerned that their exposure to Cronus must have had a serious impact on their psyche. How’s the girl doing?”

Chloe Range was the daughter of the coven’s leader, Mara. Mara used Chloe to help her carry out her plan, passing the young teenager over to a monster so that her coven could distract everyone enough to get Cronus free. The monster was dead, I’d killed it myself. But Mara was a whole different kind of monster, one I really hoped slipped up so that her poisonous self could be removed from her daughter’s life. So far, Mara had been the picture of a well-behaved witch.

“Chloe is okay, I think. Kasey told me that she spends a lot of time at friends’ houses so she doesn’t have to go home. Can’t say I blame her.”

The car stopped and a blue light flashed across the roof before an audible click could be heard.

“Doors are unlocked,” Lucie told us, before she pushed open the door beside us and stepped out into the steadily increasin
g rain.

“I’ll see you later at the address,” Ellie told me, before saying goodbye to Lucie and making her way toward the nearby tube station.

The hospital consisted of dozens of large buildings put together to form one gargantuan structure that loomed over everything around it. The different colors of brick and paint, and the different sizes of the various buildings, gave it a
Frankenstein’s
monster-like appearance.

A large garden sat at one side of the building, with several people in gowns ignoring the weather to walk around there. At the opposite side of the hospital sat a large sign declaring it to be the entrance to the emergency wing of the building. We entered at the front of the main building and I waited while Lucie walked off to talk to the receptionist, who, after a brief conversation and a glance at Lucie’s identification, waved us through.

It took a walk to the rear of the hospital, a lift ride up
several
floors, and then a walk through three separate—and heavily armed—guard posts, to get to the high-security section of the hospital.

For as long as I could remember the top floor of the main hospital building had been reserved purely for high-security cases. For instances when an agent of Avalon—or even one of the high-ranking lords or ladies—needed medical care they were always taken to this secure part of the hospital. It was better safe than sorry.

We walked past a dozen identical doors, each with its own room number on the wall beside it, until we turned a corner and encountered a half dozen guards outside one of the rooms. A closer look told me they were SOA agents, and none of them appeared pleased to see me, until they noticed Lucie standing beside me.

“Kay’s in there,” one of the agents, a woman with bright pink hair, said.

Lucie paused for a second and then opened the door to the hospital room, stepping inside, with me following a few steps behind.

The room itself was large and bright, the windows stretching from floor to ceiling, allowing in a huge amount of light. Fiona was lying in the bed; her almost black hair was cut much shorter than when I’d last seen her. He face was ashen, pale, and motionless. Her normally green eyes closed to the world. Like me, Fiona accessed magic to use her abilities; hopefully that same magic could be used to keep her alive, to keep the venom inside her from killing her. Conjurers share a lot of similarities with sorcerers; they age slowly and heal quicker than humans, but their power centers on manipulation and illusion. Conjurers are normally quite secretive people, but Fiona wasn’t like that.

A doctor was examining Fiona’s vitals, checking the
various
readings on the beeping machines around her, without acknowledging our presence. Kay sat on a chair beside the bed, an
expression
of concern etched on his face. Behind Kay stood his Faceless.

The Faceless were officially described as bodyguards to the more prominent or powerful members of Avalon society. I knew that many of them did a lot more than just protect their master. Many were used as assassins or thieves, blackmailers or thugs, depending on their master’s needs.

The Faceless wear a mask that covers their face. Only their master knows their true identity. Every member’s mask is
different
, their masters deciding how they should look. The only similarity was that they cover the entire head, fastening around the neck so as to be impossible to remove. A dark, mesh-like material was set in the eyeholes.

The Faceless that belonged to Kay wore a mask that was all black, with a red swirl around the right eye. The nose was protruded slightly, with two holes for the wearer to breath normally. The mouth was a smooth piece of polished metal with two rows of three holes each punched into it. The mask was also raised in certain parts around the eyes, giving it a menacing appearance.

I didn’t trust the Faceless at the best of times. But while I didn’t like Kay, I trusted him to have the best interests of Avalon at heart. He was always loyal to his brother. Even as Arthur lay in an unconscious state, Kay still believed in Arthur’s dream of a powerful and united Avalon.

“This is awful,” Kay said and stood to shake my hand. His Faceless didn’t move any part except for his head, which turned slightly toward me. A shiver ran up my back. He was one creepy bastard.

“Did you know Fiona?” Kay asked me.

“We’re friends,” I said and glanced from her still form to the doctor. “How is she?”

“Dying,” he said, his word filled with anger. “Jorōgumo venom is more potent than that of most other creatures. We’re using runes to keep her magic in use, but it may not be enough. She wasn’t found for almost six hours. Long enough for the venom to do a lot of damage.”

I pointed to a gash on the side of Fiona’s head, near the
temple
. “What happened?”

“She was attacked after the stab,” the doctor said. “Hit with something multiple times, our guess is a knuckleduster of some kind. Her body is too far damaged to heal it until the venom is out of her system.”

I turned to Lucie. “You didn’t mention that.”

“Sorry. When I found out you were friends, I didn’t want to make you angrier than you already were.”

I was
plenty
angry.

“Who found her?” I asked.

“Remy,” Lucie said. “He lives nearby.”

“How is he?”

“Raging. He wants revenge for this. Fiona and he were close. I imagine you’ll be seeing him at some point, if you stick around.”

“You’re staying in Camelot?” Kay asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I told him, honestly. “I didn’t know Fiona had been hurt. I’m going to find out who did it.”

“We have people for that,” Kay assured me. “We don’t need you rushing around attacking people.”

“Sure,” I said, ignoring his words and just wanting him to shut up.

“Her supervisor is missing,” Kay continued. “We’re looking into his disappearance.” He turned to his Faceless. “How’s th
at going?”

“He vanished,” the Faceless said his voice slightly muffled from behind the mask. “We’ll find him, though. Vengeance will be served.”

“You’re sure he did this?” Lucie asked. “I’ve had no confirmation of her attacker.”

“Who else, Lucie?” Kay asked. “Fiona is attacked in her own home, and her supervisor is missing. Clearly he did it. Maybe they were lovers and she called it off. We’re looking into the
possibility
.”

“You think Fiona was cheating on her husband?” I asked, trying very hard to keep the anger and sarcasm from my voice. “She wasn’t that kind of person.”

Kay stood and walked over to me, patting me on my
shoulder
. “In the right circumstances, people are capable of things you’d never expect. Her husband is in jail. Has been for years. After all that time, her needs must be great. A forbidden love, a regretted moment of passion. It doesn’t take much to take things from friendly flirting to a more physical relationship. If she’d have only picked someone else, someone only interested in the physical. Maybe she wouldn’t be in hospital. It’s so sad.”

Kay and his Faceless left the room before I could reply, which was probably for the best.

“Keep her safe, Doctor,” I said after a few moments of calming myself down.

“She’s in the best hands, I promise,” Lucie told me. “You look angry.”

“Do you think she was having an affair?”

Lucie shook her head. “She wasn’t the type. Kay just wants to believe whatever idea gives him the most ease.”

“I need to see her house. I want to see where she was attacked. And I want to speak to Remy.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that a great deal. I can’t officially sanction his help in the investigation. Kay has already told him to stay away from it. He thinks Remy is too close to Fiona. That his judgment is impaired.”

“Is it?”

“I’ll let you decide that for yourself. All I know is that Remy would very much like to get his claws on those responsible and tear them apart. Kay doesn’t like him, doesn’t trust him either, which is precisely why I do.”

I glanced at Fiona again and mentally promised to find those who’d attacked her. “Let’s go say hello to our little friend then.”

CHAPTER
13

November 1888. London.

I
’d been silent for an unknown amount of time since Felix had told Diana, Alan, and me that Merlin was the one who’d sent the Reavers to London. That he’d been the one behind them
murdering
and stealing the souls of innocent people, all to feed to Arthur in some attempt to make him stronger.

I hadn’t wanted to speak because if I had, then my incandescent fury would have boiled over and I’d have done something stupid. Instead I sat and listened, all the while fully aware of the growing tension in the room.

“Can you give us a moment, please?” Felix asked.

The other two agreed and left the drawing room, although both glanced back at me before doing so.

“You got something to say to me?” Felix asked.

“How long have you known?” I asked, every word taut. My anger was a fragile beast willing to explode with the slightest pressure.

“That Merlin was having innocent people slaughtered and their souls fed to Arthur? It’s been about a century. It was why they sent you to kill me. No one was meant to find out. Only the Reavers and Merlin know, and I haven’t been a Reaver for the better part of four hundred years.”

“I can’t believe that Merlin . . .” I stopped. I could believe that Merlin would arrange something as horrific as the murder of people just to get what he wanted; he’d been using me to do it for centuries. “Why prostitutes? Why London?”

“London is a city of crime and poverty. People will look the other way for very little, and others can vanish without
trouble
. Most of the previous victims simply disappeared to the wind. Prostitutes are easier to make vanish than most. But this is
different
. Whoever these Reavers calling themselves Jack the
Ripper
are, it’s clear that they’re more interested in the murder than the reasons behind it.”

“They leave the body in full view of everyone. I think it’s safe to say they’re enjoying themselves. They won’t stop, not unless they’re caught. And there’s no chance of the humans doing that.”

“There’s a man in London, he runs a shop just outside of
Covent
Garden. I’ve heard he works for anyone with money, but I know he’s supplied the Reavers in the past. Although I wouldn’t mention them to him at first, just ask about anyone wanting knowledge about Whitechapel. That’s where the killings have been, and they’ll have needed information on the best places to strike. They’ll have come to him. He’ll get anything for anyone. For the right price. He might be able to point you in the direction of the killers. It’ll take some persuading though. Or money. And he’s not above waiting until you’ve gone and then telling people that they’re being hunted.”

“He sounds delightful. What’s his name?”

“Mister Baker. No idea of his first, I’ve heard about six different ones. He can’t be trusted, even by the normally dreadful standard of people in his job.”

We were both silent for a few seconds.

“You’re going to confront Merlin, aren’t you?” Felix asked.

“Someone has to. He’s murdering people to keep Arthur alive. Taking the souls of your enemies in battle is one thing, but having prostitutes butchered in the streets by a gang of lunatics is going so far over the line, it’s now a distant blur.”

“He won’t see it like that. He’ll see it as doing what needs to be done.”

“Merlin is not the man he once was,” I admitted. It had been bubbling inside of me for years, centuries probably, but I’d avoided the issue by just staying away from Camelot, by not being given missions directly anymore.

“None of us are,” Felix said, his tone soft and full of regret. He glanced down and then back up at me. “There are some things you need to know. About Merlin. About you.”

“Like what?”

“He’s not always been honest with you.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “I think I came to grips with that a very long time ago. What Merlin says and what actually
happens
are usually widely different. There’s very little you could say to surprise me about his lies.”

“When this is all done, I’ll tell you about them,” Felix said. “Promise me you won’t go to Merlin before you know
everything
.”

I stared at him for a heartbeat. “I promise. I’ll come to you first.” I walked to the drawing room door and opened it,
expecting
to find Alan listening in. Instead I found Alan face down on the floor with Diana standing above him, her foot on the small of his back. “Trouble?”

Diana shook her head. “He was unflattering. I corrected him.”

“I only grabbed her behind. It was very friendly,” Alan pleaded.

“Did I ask you to grab my bottom?” Diana asked.

“A gentleman knows when a woman wants her bottom grabbed,” Alan said.

Diana looked down at Alan with disgust. “Can I tear his arm
s off ?”

“Later,” I said. “Alan, at what point in your life were you led to believe that grabbing the behind of any woman who has stated her desire to tear you apart was a good idea?”

“I thought it would break the ice a little,” Alan explained. “You know, I grab her, she laughs, and I make a funny joke.”

“And that works?” Diana asked.

Alan remained quiet for a second. “There’s always a firs
t time.”

“You’re an idiot,” I told him and motioned for Diana to let him up.

She did as I asked and then punched him in the jaw the
second
he was upright. The blow lifted him off his feet and dumped him some distance back, where he tried to get back to his feet and thought better of it.

“Now I’m good,” Diana said with a smirk.

“I’ve got the name of someone who might be able to help,” I told Diana and a newly upright Alan. I turned to Felix. “We’ll be a few hours. Are you going to run for it if I go?”

Felix shook his head. “They won’t come for me. Trolls are outside, and I’m not exactly a slouch. I’ll be fine.”

I walked toward Alan, as he held his bleeding nose. “You going to behave?”

“You keep asking me that as if I haven’t been so far.”

“Alan, if you think pissing off Diana is behaving, I think your life expectancy is going to be very low.”

“This is a lot of effort just to go to jail at the end anyway,” be bemoaned.

“Keep on behaving like a lout around Diana then. I’m sure she’ll endeavor to arrange for you to take a much quicker, albeit longer term, punishment.”

Alan glanced at Diana and then back at me. “I promise I’ll behave myself.”

“Excellent,” Diana said with a smile. “But if you ever grab me again, I won’t hesitate to launch you off the tallest building I ca
n find.”

The carriage ride through London was an uncomfortable one, and not because of the uneven roads. Diana and Alan sat opposite one another, barely registering the other’s existence, let alone actually communicating with each other.

I was beginning to wish I’d left one of them with Felix when Alan opened his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said looking at Diana. “I did not behave in a gentlemanly manner and for that I offer my humble apologies. You may not like me. You may loathe me. But we have to work together for a common cause. After this is over, you can go back to hating me again.”

Diana stared at Alan. “Okay, but if you touch me—”

“Yes, I know, launching, high buildings. Probably some face punching. None of it sounds like something I wish to visit anytime soon.”

After that the atmosphere wasn’t quite so inhospitable, despite the continued silence.

Diana’s carriage driver stopped outside the address Felix had given me for Mister Baker, and I looked out into the
morning light.

“It’s quiet here,” Alan said. “I was expecting it to be busier.”

“Covent Garden doesn’t get really busy for a few hours,” Diana explained. “It would be best for us to conduct our business before the local residents begin setting up their wares for the day.”

The three of us left the coach and walked down a nearby alley, stopping outside of a large wooden door.

“Go find somewhere safe,” Diana told the driver. “Be back in an hour.”

The driver nodded, and I watched him drive the carriage off.

Alan glanced around. “You sure this is right?”

“Did you expect a shop with a big sign that says ‘criminals welcome’?” I asked.

“I just expected guards or something more foreboding than a door in an alley.”

Diana knocked on the door once, and when the reply wasn’t immediate, she turned the handle, which moved freely, opening the door.

“Mister Baker?” Diana called out to the rooms beyond.

“Come in,” a voice shouted back.

I didn’t need to tell Alan or Diana to be careful as we stepped into the building, closing the door behind us. The room we found ourselves in was bright, and devoid of anything but a green and
re
d rug covering wooden floorboards, and a coat stand, which held an umbrella but no garments of any kind.

There was only one exit—an archway—that led to a short, thin corridor, at the end of which was another door, which wa
s ajar.

Diana, being in front, pushed the door open, which flooded the dark, windowless corridor with light. The three of us walked into the large room, only to be confronted by a wood troll. At ten feet in height, and almost as wide, it was an imposing sight. Of the four different races of troll, wood trolls tended to be the most receptive to other species, although the one before us certainly didn’t seem happy to see us.

“Tarin, move,” someone commanded.

The large Tarin did as it was told and stepped aside, walking over toward one side of the expansive room and taking a deep breath, as if the mere act of allowing us to retain all of our limbs was too much for it.

Now that the troll didn’t obstruct my view, I noticed the man before me for the first time. He stood behind a wooden counter, which ran almost the length of the room. He wore a suit of red and black, and a lengthy moustache adorned a chubby face. He wasn’t large himself, although the suit did appear to be a little too big for his frame.

“He’s a grumpy bastard,” he said.

“Mister Baker?” I asked, walking up to the counter and offering my hand.

Mister Baker glanced down at my hand. “Depends who’s asking,” he replied, giving a nervous glance over to his friend.

Two doors were on the wall behind Mister Baker, both of which were closed, and I wondered if he thought he’d be able to dart through one of them before I could grab hold of him.

“My name is Nathan Garrett,” I told him, lowering my hand. “My associates and I wish to speak to you about a matter of great importance. We require information.” I removed a small gold bar from my inside jacket pocket, and placed it on the counter between us.

Mister Baker’s eyes slowly moved down to the bar and then slowly rose back toward me. This time there was a beaming smile on his face. He grasped my hand as if I’d never lowered it, shaking it vigorously.

“Of course, of course, come with me,” he announced and turned to one of the doors, pushing it open slightly. “Fiona, fetch some tea, we have guests.” He didn’t wait for a reply, merely flicked a hinge beneath the counter, pulling part of it up and then ushering Diana, Alan, and me through the second door and into a drawing room.

A lit fireplace warmed the entire room, which was a good size, even with the half dozen comfortable looking chairs, a table, and several cupboards.

All four of us sat on the chairs, with Mister Baker taking up residence in front of the large window; the yellow curtains closed, ensuring the room remained free from external prying eyes.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Several people might have come through here recently asking for information about Whitechapel, maybe requesting soul jars,” Alan said. “We wish to find them.”

“Whitechapel you say?” Mister Baker asked in a tone that suggested he bloody well knew all about the people we were asking about but was going to find himself suddenly unable to remember.

The door to the room opened and a young woman walked in with a tray containing several cups, saucers, a pot of milk, and a teapot. She placed the tray between us and glanced over to Mister Baker. “Anything else, sir?” she asked. Her accent was Scottish, although it wasn’t thick; I imagined she’d spent a lot of time away from her native country.

“No, Fiona. Once you’ve poured the tea, you may leave.”

Fiona brushed her long dark hair over one ear and nodded. She poured four cups, placing milk in each, and passed each of us a cup and saucer. As she turned to leave, I noticed that Alan was watching her intently. Before she left, she glanced back over at the four of us, and allowed her gaze to take in each of us in question. She noticed me watching and quickly left the room.

“She’s a good maid,” Mister Baker said. “She makes a good cup of tea and knows how to clean. Both helpful traits in a woman.”

Diana tensed and pretended she hadn’t heard him.

“We need your help,” I said, moving the conversation away from something that was liable to make Diana tear his head off.