Authors: M.J. Scott
Shadow Kin (30 page)
“No worse but no better?” I said speculatively.
“There are flashes, we think,” Simon said. “Glimmers of consciousness. But no, we haven’t cured anyone. Yet.”
I shuddered, looking down at the woman in front of me. This wasn’t a life, lying here, trapped in a body that knew nothing. “Where do they come from?”
Atherton had been right when he’d said that most of the blood-locked ended up dead at the hands of the Blood. Once the cravings grew too strong, they tended to descend fully into the Night World. And the humans gave them up for dead. Which tended to be a self-fulfilling prophecy of a kind.
Simon sighed. “Sometimes a family gets someone away. Keep them locked up or restrained. They nearly always end up bringing them here.”
“And what do you tell them?” What would convince someone to give up their flesh and blood to this living death?
“That there isn’t any hope,” Simon said. “It would be cruel to let them hope. Cruel and far too risky.”
“So you steal the bodies away down here in the dead of night?”
“No. We wait for a suitable moment and tell them that their loved one has succumbed.”
I stared at him. “And that’s not cruel?” Faked deaths and stealing bodies or no, not
bodies
, though I didn’t know what else you called these unmoving people. It seemed ridiculous that Simon would be involved in such things.
bodies
, though I didn’t know what else you called these unmoving people. It seemed ridiculous that Simon would be involved in such things.
My throat tightened. Had I been so wrong about Simon? But he was trying to help.. . .
“It’s no different from what they would have to hear if they hadn’t come to the hospital,” Atherton interjected. “These people would be dead for sure then.”
“Yes,” Simon agreed. “Once someone is locked, the best the family can hope for is to know whether they’re alive or dead. Sooner or later it will be dead. It would be better to stop people going down this path in the first place, but there will always be those who choose badly. Those who are too weak to resist.” He sounded bitter. As if his words came from personal experience. “God knows why anyone would choose to drink a vampire’s blood. Nothing good can come from such a thing. Look how they end their days.”
The cold anger in his voice made me shiver. What would he do if he knew that I was not so far different from those lying in the beds around us? Any warmth he felt for me wouldn’t survive that icy fury.
Which meant I needed to make sure he never found out. I moved toward another of the beds where an older man lay. The wrinkles in his face creased slackly in the still skin. “What about the bodies? How do you produce a dead body if no one has died?”
Simon’s tone was matter-of-fact. “The bodies of the blood-locked are customarily burned.”
Then usually the ashes scattered over water, to take no chance they might rise as Blood. Not that there was really a chance. Turning was a very different process from locking. “No one asks to see the body first?”
Simon looked away. “Bryony takes care of that.”
Glamoured the families, he meant. Made them forget or believe they had had that last moment with the dead. And lords of hell, if the Fae were in on this also . . . the Blood would be outraged. This had to be why Lucius had wanted me to kill Simon. The question was, how had he found out?
“All this risk, so you can keep them alive down here?”
Atherton shook his head, the white tail of his hair snaking behind him. “So we can find a cure.”
“Why would
you
be interested in finding a cure?” I said. “The Blood don’t care about humans.”
you
be interested in finding a cure?” I said. “The Blood don’t care about humans.”
He shrugged fluidly. “Don’t judge all of us by what you have seen.”
“I’ve seen many Blood over the years. None of you seemed overly concerned about protecting the humans in the Courts.” My voice was sharper than I intended. After all, on the face of it, I had no more reason than Atherton to care about the fate of humans foolish enough to become locked.
“It makes no sense to have a percentage of your food source die and become unavailable to you,” Atherton said. “Or to put your race at risk by angering the other races.”
I wasn’t entirely sure of the correct response to this. It was all so . . . clinical. Both of them. Working away down here, gambling so much on the off chance there might be a cure. All hell poised to break loose if something went wrong.
I moved restlessly between the beds, looking down into one too-still face after another. The ones with open eyes were the worst. “What happens when the Blood who don’t share your views find out you’re trying to find a cure?”
“I’d imagine there might be some trouble,” Simon said calmly.
A pale phrase for possible war between the races. The thought made me shiver. “You said Bryony knows about this?” Bryony, if her ring were anything to go by, came from one of the high Families in the Veiled Court. The Lady in her title was more than Guy being respectful, it was her true rank. So, did her participation mean that the Fae knew and approved of Simon’s work? Or was she keeping secrets too?
I pressed the heel of my hand into my forehead. Too many secrets. I suddenly understood why they claimed curiosity killed the cat. I wished I’d stayed put in the Brother House.
Except then I wouldn’t have found Atherton.
Simon continued his rounds of the beds, pausing by each one. I stayed where I was staring down at the girl in the bed before me, thinking hard. A cure for the blood-locked. Perhaps a cure for the
need
. For my need. No matter what I thought of their methods, their desired outcome was mine too.
need
. For my need. No matter what I thought of their methods, their desired outcome was mine too.
When Atherton suddenly appeared by my side, I jumped, rattling the nearest bed frame as I stumbled. The fact that it provoked no reaction in the occupant only sharpened the discomfort.
“How does it work?” I asked, looking away from the bed. “How do you feed them?”
“The usual way. A few drops on their tongues. Usually every two weeks.”
“But you’re not the one who locked them.”
“No. But it seems to be enough. Maybe because I’m from the same Court.”
That was no surprise. Lucius presided over the only remaining Court in the city. I had killed more than a few Blood for Lucius and I wasn’t his sole assassin. He didn’t suffer rivals to live.
“All of us owe what we are to Lucius.” There was an edge to Atherton’s voice.
“And where did Lucius come from?”
“I do believe all the elders in his line are now dead,” Atherton said softly. “He isn’t the type to let anyone have power over him.”
Fought his way to the top and killed to make sure he stayed there. Yes, that was the Lucius I knew.
“Which is why you should do as Simon asks,” Atherton continued in that soft implacable tone. “Lucius needs to be curbed.”
I waited for him to add “or killed,” but perhaps he knew that was pushing things too far just now. He’d always been far too empathetic for a Blood.
“You of all people know what he does to those who betray him.”
“Yes. Which is why I know that it’s the right thing to do. Someone has to stand against him. The humans are trying, but the Fae won’t help them if the treaty isn’t broken.”
“Why should it be me?”
A fluid shrug. “Why not? You know him as well as anybody might. You are well placed to judge him. Do you think he deserves to win? To rule the City? To have thousands and thousands at his mercy?”
No. I didn’t. But when it came right down to it, faceless thousands sounded better than
me
being at his mercy.
me
being at his mercy.
I shivered again. “It’s suicide.”
“It might be redemption.”
“You sound like Guy. You’re Blood, not human.”
“So I cannot believe in good because I am a vampire? Why then did I ever help you?”
Lords of hell, he was deadly with his aim. He had helped me. Simon had helped me too. For his own reasons, true, but he had gotten me away from Lucius. “I didn’t mean that you were like the other, I just . . .”
“I think you should do it. Help the humans. Bring Lucius down,” Atherton said again. “In fact, I might have to insist.”
I stilled. “Insist?”
“You have a secret you want kept. I think my silence now has a different price.”
Fuck. I should’ve seen that coming.
Curses flooded through my head, but I bit down on them as I bit down on the urge to draw my dagger and show him exactly what could happen to those who tried to force me to their will. But Atherton had me over a barrel and he knew it. Sure, I could return and kill him, but there was one person that Simon would lay the blame for that act on. I might as well put the noose around my neck myself.
Atherton knew that as well as I did.
I was beginning to see why Lucius might have wanted him out of the Court. He was smart and obviously, despite his good side, he could be ruthless when he wanted to be.
“You’re blackmailing me?”
“No, merely presenting you with another choice.”
Choices. I was beginning to hate that word. Perhaps it was just easier to stay in my cage. I could go back to Lucius and resume my life. For as long as it might last before Lucius killed me out of addiction or madness.
I could also choose to tell Simon the truth, but that carried just as high a cost. He would look at me like he looked at these bodies in the beds. I would no longer see that different world in his eyes.
Or I could do as Atherton wanted.
Three bad choices. But one of them meant that Simon would still look at me as he had back in his office. Like I was real and worthy.
“I want your word,” I said. “Swear to me you won’t tell him if I do what he wants. Blood oath.”
“Fine,” Atherton said. “My word. Now give me yours.”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll do it. But I will tell Simon in my own time. Agreed?”
“Agreed. As long as your own time isn’t any longer than the next day.”
“Bastard,” I said softly.
Atherton smiled. “It’s for the greater good.”
“Fuck the greater good,” I muttered. My heart was racing. How had my life tumbled so far into madness in a few short days?
I didn’t want to think about it anymore. If I did I might scream. I stared at the still forms of the locked in the beds around me. I had to believe that Simon and Atherton could find a cure. One that might work for me. It would be the one thing that would make my gamble worthwhile.
To be free of the need and Lucius. Perhaps then I could be something more than a killer.
“Do they . . . when you give them the blood, do they react?”
“Do they feel the pleasure?” Atherton said, sounding slightly amused. “Perhaps they do. But they give no outward sign. Their bodies and minds are essentially disconnected at this point.”
“Oh.”
“You sound disappointed,” he said very softly. Too soft for Simon to hear. “Did you want to try it for yourself?”
“No.” I shivered slightly. No, I wasn’t going to take another vampire’s blood. Not unless there was no other alternative. Especially not if it meant that I would react in the usual way.
“Then what are you planning to do?”
“I don’t know.” My hand clamped down on my dagger, fingers digging into the hilt in frustration. “I don’t suppose you have any helpful suggestions?”
“The blood brings pleasure,” Atherton said, voice dropping even lower. “It is the pleasure the body craves. I would suggest giving it what it craves.”
“What?” I stared up at him. True, the blood-locked were indiscriminate in their bedding of anything that moved, but I had always resisted that path. I had to surrender my body to its needs when I drank the blood. The rest of the time, I guarded it as the one thing I truly commanded. The one thing that was mine. “Are you suggesting that I . . . with who exactly?”
He nudged my arm, turning me in the direction of Simon. “He smells of desire. And of you. I would think the solution is simple.”
“That’s your idea of simple?” It was an effort to keep my voice low. The thought of taking Simon to bed was . . . unnerving. To give up that last defense. But also made a horrible sort of sense. After all, I knew he wanted me and I knew I was not averse to him.
If it could buy me time from the need. Time to free myself. To step toward the place where I didn’t need to hold myself separate. But to do so in these circumstances? When both of us were intent on our own purposes? It felt horribly calculating to contemplate. But if he were willing . . . how could mutual pleasure hurt him?
The harder part would be keeping it simply to that and no more.
“It’s my idea of a solution.”
“Will it work?” I needed to believe it would. Otherwise, why would I even contemplate making the situation still more complicated? I wanted to be free, not entangled in whole new ways. I needed a clear head. One that would let me choose to leave without a blink if the situation came to that.
Could I take Simon to my bed and then let him go again?
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