Shadow Kin (20 page)

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Authors: M.J. Scott

BOOK: Shadow Kin
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Hopefully my impression was wrong. Simon was human with a human’s senses, but we were headed toward Bryony. A Fae. With senses beyond even those of the Blood or the Beasts.
Damn Lucius and his insatiable desire for control. This was his doing. The fact that I was here in these corridors, the fact that I was fighting the urges that rose within with every step. All his fault.
Sometimes I longed for his death.
Distraction. That was what was needed if I was to get myself under control before we got to our destination. What had we been discussing again?
Flaming arrows. Right. Better to think of those than other things that burned right now.
“Not as useful as a flaming arrow in most situations, being able to set a vampire on fire, then, I mean.” I carefully didn’t look at Simon. “Is Liam a metalmage, then?”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask him.”
A casual chat with a Templar knight about his powers. I couldn’t see that happening anytime soon. If Simon didn’t want to talk about the Templars, I needed another topic of conversation.
“Are there tunnels under all of the hospital?”
“Here and there.”
He was playing his cards close to his chest. I couldn’t fault him for that. In his position I wouldn’t be telling me too much either.
“They seem deserted.” We were yet to meet anyone else on our path.
“They’re used more at night.”
We reached an intersection in the tunnels. Ours ended with two branches, leading off right and left.
Simon jerked his head to the left. “This way. Not too much farther.” He took the lead, holding the lantern up. I couldn’t help glancing behind me, down the other branch. A faint draft wafted to me, scented with something heavy and metallic. Iron, I realized. A lot of iron. Something glimmered at the far end of the corridor, faint purple and gold, like the afterglow of a ward.
Wards and iron in a tunnel below a Haven? Lots of iron in a place where the Fae came regularly. There could only be one purpose to such a thing and that would be to keep the Fae out. My neck prickled as my instincts kicked in. The humans were keeping a secret.
“What’s down there?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.
Simon glanced back at me. The light from the lantern reflected in his eyes, making him hard to read. “Nothing much, it leads to another building. Come on, Bryony will be sending a search party if we don’t appear soon.”
He was lying. I was sure of it. And, as I followed the light of his lamp away from the smell of iron and the glow of magic, I found myself wondering why.
 
Bryony hadn’t sent a search party, but both she and Guy looked somewhat impatient by the time I opened the door to her office. My ribs had creaked in protest with every step up the flights of stairs leading out of the tunnels and up to the stone wing favored by the Fae. But I couldn’t afford to slow down. Not yet. Getting Lily here, to a Haven, was only the beginning of things.
“Lose your way?” Guy asked with a frown. He stood in by Bryony’s desk, Liam on his right, both of them militarily upright and ignoring the plethora of padded chairs Bryony kept for visitors.
I frowned back. “We took the long way round.” I didn’t mention the fact that I’d come as fast as my ribs would allow. That wouldn’t improve the mood of the room any. It was already serious enough with the two Templars present. Armor-clad and grim, they looked out of place. Bryony’s office was light and plant-filled, full of flowers and greenery. Not the place for soldiers.
Though if Lucius had his way, soldiers would be needed everywhere.
Guy and Liam were apparently too disciplined to sit down when the opportunity presented itself. I had no such qualms. My ribs were on fire after the climb. I ushered Lily toward one of the chairs, hiding a slight frown as she twitched away from the touch of my hand on her back. I lowered myself carefully into another and turned my attention to the other occupant of the office.
Bryony sat behind the desk, one hand resting on the handle of one of her many silver teapots. Steam rose from the spout, spilling the scent of something sharp and herbal into the room. Damn. One of Bryony’s tonics. They worked but I could never quite shake the feeling I was drinking something revolting glamoured to taste nice.
“Ribs,
m’hala
?” she said to me as she poured the tea.
Guy raised his eyebrows at Bryony’s familiarity but stayed silent.
I nodded. There was no point trying to hide my injuries from her. “I’ll live. Lily’s hurt worse than me.”
“I asked about you,” Bryony said, placing the teapot on the tray and rotating the cups before passing her hands over them in a blessing.
“I’m all right,” Lily interrupted, not looking at me. She wasn’t really looking at anyone, more staring into a neutral point in the distance.
“No, you’re not,” I countered. She still didn’t look at me, leaving me once again contemplating the wisdom of applying my head to the nearest hard surface. I’d thought, back there in the ’cab and the hackney, that I’d made some progress. That she’d been starting to give me some small shred of trust. But now she had withdrawn again, back into her icy armor. She sat rigidly upright in the chair, tension drawn clearly in the vertical sheer of her spine.
“She got clawed by a Beast earlier,” I continued. “I healed the worst of it, but it needs cleaning and more work.”
Bryony tilted her head at me.
“I was drained,” I said, proffering the same story I’d fed Lily for not finished the job myself. Hopefully Bryony would leave it there. Because my lack of power wasn’t the entire reason I’d stopped.
No, the more prudent reason for not finishing the healing had been the sheer temptation of how good it felt to have my hands on her. Lunacy to be so drawn by casual contact. I was a healer, for sun’s sake, a professional. Yet putting my hands on her skin had nearly set me on fire.
I’d felt an answering heat thrumming through her, as much as she was denying it. Because that much was also clear: she was denying it. Holding it at bay with a ruthless force of will that could probably move mountains should she set her mind to it. I’d almost been able to feel the battle in her nerves as I’d coaxed the vessels and fibers of her flesh to re-form. A confusion of pain and lust that flared and was tamped down and flared again with every beat of her heart.
Still, her rejection of what lay between us was clear enough. So I’d stopped touching her before my body overruled my sense of decency. I stared down at my hands, flexing them slightly where they lay against my thighs. Feeling her skin instead of the buckskin of my trousers. Gods and fucking suns.
“Simon?” Guy said.
Damn. I’d missed something. “Yes?”
“Bryony asked you a question.”
Indeed, and when Bryony spoke, everyone jumped, even my brother. But today, I wasn’t in the mood to pander to Bryony. Not unless she was about to sing a different tune when it came to Lily. Her sending us in the back way was hardly a good sign. “I was thinking.”
“Never a good idea, little brother,” Guy said.
“How would you know?” I shot back.
Bryony held out a teacup to me. “No squabbling.”
Guy’s mouth closed with a snap. I tried not to smirk at him as I accepted the cup. Pale green liquid steamed within. Mint and comfrey tickled my nostrils. No doubt there were other things in the brew. No self-respecting Fae would brew a tea with only two ingredients, and they delighted in being able to bamboozle their guests with complex blends a master herbalist would struggle to decode.
Lily also received a cup, though Bryony placed it on the desk in front of her instead of handing it over directly as politeness would dictate. Lily picked it up, held the china closer to her face, and sniffed but made no move to drink. Her gray eyes were suspicious as she watched Bryony. I wondered if she knew she was being as rude as Bryony by not drinking.
The air between them almost crackled with aversion.
“It’s a tonic. Perfectly safe.” I swigged mine to reassure her and ease the mood.
“Indeed. It will help the healing,” Bryony said, looking from me to Lily. Still without meeting Lily’s gaze. “Drink.” Her expression was rigid, the way it was when she dealt with an uncooperative patient. My neck prickled. Suns. I hadn’t wanted to believe Lily’s warnings about her likely reception from the Fae, but it seemed she’d been right.
“I heal fast.” Lily’s voice was low and cool. Icily neutral.
“So I would expect. Faster still if you drink.” Bryony’s voice was, if anything, colder than Lily’s. She tapped one finger on the teapot’s handle, staring at Lily’s untouched tea.
Lily made no move to raise her cup to her lips. “Simon should be attended.”
Which almost made me spit tea all over Bryony’s precious silk rugs.

Simon
is not the most pressing problem,” Bryony said.
“No,” Guy agreed. He rocked on his heels slightly. The clank and rattle of his mail sounded loud in the small room. “She is.”
“Her name is Lily,” I said, putting my cup down a little too forcefully on Bryony’s desk. Thankfully the china didn’t break. Fae work was tough. Like the Fae themselves, I was reminded as Bryony pressed her lips into a thin line of disapproval. I didn’t react. St. Giles would take care of Lily. I’d given my word.
“Then Lily is the problem. What is it about you that Lucius wants you back so badly?” Guy said, looking at Lily.
“Well, it’s not as if he has another of the shadow kin to hand,” Bryony said tartly. “I imagine he misses his pet.”
“Bryony,” I snapped. “Lily has claimed Haven in this hospital. She is to be treated with respect.”
Bryony didn’t change her expression, but the rainbowed chain around her neck darkened a little. Angry. Which made two of us.
“What’s more,” I continued, “she is hurt and she needs treatment. That is our priority in any situation.” I rose and crossed the room to yank the bellpull to summon somebody. Bryony could argue as much as she wanted, but Lily would still be seen to in the meantime.
Bryony’s eyes snapped ice at me. “As you wish, Master Healer.”
Suns. I really was in trouble if she was using my title rather than my name. But I’d been in trouble before, and seeing to it that the hospital treated Lily like any other patient was a key component of my plan. Treat her like dirt and why would she even think of helping us? Not to mention she didn’t deserve anything less than any other person who crossed our threshold seeking help.
There was a soft knock on the door and Chrysanthe, one of Bryony’s Fae aides, senior healer in her own right, appeared.
“Fetch Harriet,” I told her before Bryony could speak. Harriet was human, which seemed a safer choice if all the Fae were going to react to Lily in the same way as Bryony. Chrysanthe, always quick on the uptake, nodded at me and disappeared.
“Lily is to be treated with courtesy,” I warned as I turned back to Bryony. “By
everyone
in this hospital.”
“The truth is always courteous,” Bryony said with a sharp smile. “A belief, I would imagine, your friend here doesn’t share.”
Lily raised her chin. “Why should I? I’m not Fae. That has always been made perfectly clear to me. I owe nothing to your beliefs.”
“Yet you wish to be protected by them.”
“I thought Havens were treaty law, not Fae belief,” Lily said.
“Enough!” I stood abruptly, regretting the movement as my ribs shot dull fire up and down my nerves. “I brought Lily here to be healed.”
“Risking the Haven by doing so,” Bryony said, standing herself.
Before she could say anything further, a soft knock sounded and the door swung open to reveal Harriet and Chrysanthe. Either Harriet had been working close by or Chrysanthe had run to fetch her. Chrysanthe’s face was apprehensive and she twisted her Family ring—a small band of green and yellow stones—nervously. Harriet’s brown eyes, in contrast, looked merely curious.
“Harry, this girl needs treatment. See to it.” Bryony ordered. “Chrysanthe, Master Healer DuCaine requires your attention.”

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