Long Live the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (25 page)

She shrugged her delicate shoulders. She was wearing black – her signature colour – and she looked like a prim little doll. “That is what the examiner said when asked.”

Dr Quincy was a stubborn bint. Then again, she was just
covering her arse by sticking with her original assumption. Not like she had a body she could examine.

“It looked like a were attack because it was Ali who attacked him.” Her claws could easily be identified as were or goblin. They were pretty bloody sharp.

“And how do you know that?” Victoria demanded in that schoolmarm tone of hers. Sitting here with her, I alternated between comfort, agitation and wariness. She had this odd way of making me feel at home and at ease while simultaneously making herself annoying and frightening. She was very good at it.

“Because I saw the note she wrote in his blood.”

“You’re certain she wrote it?”

“As certain as I can be. Not like I could have it analysed or anything. Her scent was all over it, so it’s a sound assumption.”

Her eyes hardened. “That’s not good enough.”

My teeth clenched. “It’s all I’ve got.”

“You should have examined the location of the attack. You should have checked for further evidence.”

“Forgive me for being too concerned for my father’s life to run back to his house and look for clues as to who attacked him when it was fairly obvious to me who the culprit was.”

“I don’t understand how you ever got to be Royal Guard.”

I sucked in a deep breath. Fuck counting to ten. “Lucky for you I was, or I’d be having this conversation with Bertie and you’d be rolling over in a concrete box.”

“You are the most vexing child.”

“And you’re a cantankerous old crone.”

Fang me, was that a hint of a smile? I couldn’t tell; it was gone in a flash, replaced by a very guarded expression. “Tell me more about this poison.”

Back to that, eh? “I don’t know much about it. As I said, it went missing along with my father, but we were able to give Dr Quincy a new blood sample.”

Victoria reached out a tiny hand to her right and picked up the handset for a telephone that sat there. “Connect me to the Eternal Flame,” she commanded into it.

A switchboard? Really? That was so retro it was positively ancient. And just a little bit cool.

And who the hell named that funeral home? It sounded like the title of a pop song.

A few seconds later she said, “Dr Quincy, please.” And then she passed the phone to me.

“What?”

She waggled the handset. “I cannot ask for the results; it will raise speculation.”

“Bollocks.” But I took the telephone from her regardless. When Dr Quincy announced herself, I let her know who I was and asked if the results were in yet. It would be odd if they were so quickly.

“Actually, those did come back. You caught us at the right time, it seems. The sample you gave me contained high levels of silver, tetracycline, goblin blood, arsenic and laudanum.”

Pretty much what we’d expected. “Thanks.” I hung up.

“That was rude.”

“She’s a cow.” I grabbed another biscuit. “So, why are you so interested in the poison that killed my father?”

“Tell me what was in it first.”

I debated holding out, but if what I told her didn’t match her suspicions then it wouldn’t matter why she was so interested. If it did match, then I had to trust she’d fill me in. That was the difficult part.

My gaze locked with hers. “Silver. Tetracycline. Laudanum. Arsenic and…?”

Her face was a perfect mask that slowly dissolved into an expression of cold, deep anger. “Goblin blood.” There was no hesitation or question to her response.

I set my empty, soggy-bottomed cup aside. “What does that mean to you?”

Victoria drew a deep breath and put her own cup and saucer on the low table between us.

“It means that the poison that killed Vardan was also the same poison that killed my Albert.”

“I thought
she
killed Albert.”

Avery set a cup of tea in front of me and sat down at the table. We were at her house, and if it weren’t for the general sadness hanging over the place, it would feel like old times.

Val had been made to take some time off work, of course, and he was with us. He hadn’t said anything about his inheritance yet, but then I hadn’t given him much of an opportunity. He had, however, beaten himself up good and proper for the poison bottle going missing. The only thing he’d said since his arrival was that the Yard had found evidence of Ali being at the morgue, and that they were still looking for her.

I took a sip of Earl Grey. “That was the popular story.”

Val dropped a handful of sugar cubes into his cup. Somebody needed a kick of energy. “If Albert didn’t die from injuries and if Her Nibs didn’t kill him, then who did?”

“Someone with access to the royal family,” I said, needlessly. Then, perhaps not so needlessly, “Someone who still has access to the Buck House set?”

That circle was even smaller than it had been before the Insurrection, understandably. Not only were there fewer aristocrats alive, but Victoria’s social interactions had been scaled back significantly. Only a handful were granted entrance to the palace on any kind of regular basis. Vardan had been one of them.

“Has to be an aristo,” Val insisted. “Vardan’s staff was loyal.”

“Not just that, but we already know that aristos are involved at a high level.” I plucked a piece of cheese from the platter Avery had placed in the centre of the table, and wrapped it in a bit of bread. “The involvement of the duchess and Churchill in the laboratories and experiments proves that.”

Val watched me bite into my crusty sandwich. “You still reckon he was killed because you asked him to rally the vamps?”

“No, I think he was killed because he
did
try to rally the vamps.” I took another sip of tea. “Also, I think whoever did it was worried he knew something. Probably thought the duchess confessed to him.”

“Speaking of that,” Avery began, nibbling on a crisp, “did you find anything in the duchess’s journals?”

“Not yet.” I’d scarcely had time to look at them. “They’re written in some code I haven’t cracked yet.” And I wasn’t going to crack it at this rate.

“Want me to take a look?” Val asked. “I’ve got time, and we did some training in cryptography and cryptanalysis at the Yard.”

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

He flushed. “Stop it. I’ll come by and get them later.”

Avery toyed with another crisp but didn’t quite get around to eating it. “Do you think he’s… all right?”

Of course we knew who she meant – we didn’t need our super-sibling powers for that. We’d managed to avoid talking about the body for as long as any of us could.

“He’s not there,” Val said. “Whatever happens, you need to know that Father is in a better place.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I hardly thought that being buried in some aristo’s dirt cellar – or being Ali’s luncheon – was a better place than the Vardan crypt, but I caught myself in time. My brother and sister would not appreciate my particular sense of humour at that moment.

Avery reached over and covered his hand with her own. “Thanks, Fetch.”

If it made the two of them feel better to think that Vardan was perched on a cloud, finally able to enjoy the sunshine and plucking away at a golden harp, so be it. Personally, I wasn’t going to feel any better until I had his murderer’s kidneys in a pie. I would like to then feed said pie to said murderer. That was possible, wasn’t it?

Ill-timed levity aside, I would find some satisfaction in delivering my own brand of justice. I might sometimes wake up in a sweat after nightmares about Church, but I didn’t regret what I had done. I regretted that he had become such a monster that killing him had become necessary for my own continued existence, but I’d wear his blood on my hands without guilt.

Something had been niggling at the back of my brain, and I finally realised what it was. “Why take the body?”

My siblings turned to me. “To hide the evidence,” Val said.

“But a blood sample proved that there was poison in his system. There was blood everywhere – taking his corpse didn’t affect that. So if it wasn’t to hide the use of poison, why take it?”

Avery paled – even more so than usual. “For tissue samples.”

For once, someone other than me had gone the dark route. That it was Avery was perhaps the biggest surprise.

“Elaborate,” Val commanded.

She closed her hands around her teacup as if her fingers were chilled. “First, I have to confess something to the two of you.”

Aw, fang me. I hated it when conversations started with a confession. Just the word was enough to make my stomach clench. It almost always was a harbinger of horrid news.

“Go ahead,” I said.

My sister paused, gathering her thoughts. If I cuffed her around the head would she gather at a more efficient rate?

“A few weeks ago, Emma and I decided to have a baby.”

Val and I exchanged startled glances. He reached out to Avery. “Are you…?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Neither is Emma, though if we go through with it, it will definitely be Emma who gets pregnant.”

Dread tightened the floor of my stomach. “Why?”

Her gaze – so much like our father’s – met mine, and I realised that Vardan would never see his grandchild. “Because I had my blood checked in Paris by a friend. We both did. She told me there was a ninety-seven per cent chance that if I was impregnated by plague-carrying sperm, I would have a full-blood child.”

“Just like Dede,” I whispered.

She nodded, then turned to Val. “I know you reckon this insanity skipped you – that they didn’t find anything when they took you – but go to someone you trust and get checked. The Vardan line is unusual – mutated if you want to go there. This mysterious ‘they’ didn’t take Father to cover up his poisoning; they took him to take everything they can use.”

My stomach clenched again. The idea of someone – probably people he knew and thought of as friends – slicing bits off my father was too much. Too cruel.

Unfortunately, it made too much sense to discredit. How could I not have thought of it? Wasn’t it obvious that we were an odd bunch? What else would they want Vardan for, except to possibly send a message?

I’d got too close and pissed off the people behind the labs. They thought killing my father would stop me. Church had thought killing my sister would stop me.

I wasn’t going to stop. Did they think I’d let them get away with it? Did they honestly believe I would let Dede and Vardan die in vain? They didn’t know me very well. They didn’t know me at all.

“I need the two of you to leave town,” I blurted.

My siblings regarded me with a mixture of annoyance and surprise.

“No,” Val said. “Absolutely not.”

Avery joined in. “We’re not going to leave you to face these bastards on your own.”

My brother wore a fierce scowl. “How can you even suggest such a thing? Avery and I are every bit as trained as you are. I’m in Special Branch, and she’s newly hired by Victoria herself. Are you really stupid enough to ignore those connections?”

Val rarely sugar-coated anything, so his questioning my intelligence didn’t sting.

“In fact,” Avery began, “perhaps you should be the one to leave town. You’re the one who is the most visible, who has been the most endangered.”

If I frowned any harder, my face would fold in half. “Don’t be absurd.”

She arched a brow, as did Val. Another family trait. Did I look half so smug when I did it? If so, someone should give me a good kicking.

I held up my hands. “Fine. Point made. I’ll just worry about the two of you.”

Val punched me in the shoulder. It fucking hurt. “And we’d worry about you whether we’re here or Italy. At least with us here you’ll have people you can trust at your back.”

“Yeah, I’m just as capable as Ophelia,” Avery added.

I stared at her. “Are you jealous of Fee?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.” Of course that meant she was. “But I wager you haven’t tried to get her to run away.”

I almost said I didn’t worry about Fee the same way, but I caught myself. Avery wouldn’t see that as a compliment. I certainly wouldn’t. Instead I said, “You’re right. The three of us ought to stick together. Just promise me you’ll be careful and be armed at all times.” And then to Val, as I rubbed my shoulder, “And stop hitting me, you great brute.”

We talked then about what steps we could take to find Father. I had to admit that finding him took precedence over stopping Ali – at least at that moment and under that roof. Val would use his Yard connections to do what he could, I’d use the goblins’ spy network and Avery would keep an eye on the
palace and who came and went so we’d have a better list of suspects. I didn’t believe Victoria was involved, not after she’d told me that the same poisonous compound had been found in Albert’s blood. She’d seemed genuinely distraught, but then she’d had a long time to perfect the act. I’d trust her when I knew she deserved it.

Although I didn’t think we’d ever find Vardan. Because no one would ever find Church, and I wasn’t nearly as wily as this bunch.

I honestly didn’t know what day it was. It felt as though I’d been tracking Ali and dealing with Vardan’s death for weeks, but in reality it had been… what, a few nights? I shouldn’t be surprised that things had spiralled out of control so quickly, but I hoped that I never got to the place where this sort of thing seemed totally run of the mill.

At least no more plagued corpses had popped up. At least Ali hadn’t killed anyone else. No one that we knew of at least. I truly hoped they hadn’t fed my father to her. That would be the tipping point for me. That would be the moment that I gave myself over completely to the feral. To the madness. Even the thought of him being sliced up and studied was better than that.

My rotary rang in the midst of that cheery thought. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Ophelia. Should I take it? Avery might get even more bent out of shape. But Fee might have information. Or Vex might be hurt again. I admit, the latter had more pull than the former.