The House (17 page)

“No, Stripes.
You don’t want to go with us. It’s not a family reunion, it’s the
Covenant. They don’t play by the same rules.” Her face hardened,
changed ever so subtly, and I knew that I wasn’t going to win. Damn
her. “Fine ... whatever. Don’t blame me when you don’t like it.”
And I vanished, going into my room in a blur.

Yes, it was
childish but she hadn’t seen the Covenant. She hadn’t met my
family. I realised that she knew almost as little about my past as
I did about hers. I guessed I wasn’t going to be able to hide as
much of myself at the Covenant. Not wanting them there was more
about preserving my sense of self than protecting them. Although
protecting them did come into it. You tended to live longer if the
Covenant didn’t notice you.

Choosing what
to wear is generally an enjoyable experience for me. I love
clothes, especially dressing up clothes, but going to the Covenant
had always put me on edge. I thought about all the people who were
likely to be there and shivered. I should stick on a pair of old
jeans and a hoodie and be done with it. I tried to tell my hands to
pull out jeans but they attached to the hanger containing a pale
blue silk dress.

The dress hit
me just about the knees and accentuated my curves without being
overtly sexy. The halter neckline wasn’t plunging and the back was
solid, not dipping down at all. It was one of the least revealing
dresses I owned and I immediately shied away from wearing it. It
was too ‘try hard’ and not enough me. In fact, I was quite certain
it had been a present from my grandfather which strengthened my
resolve not to wear it. Perhaps I would save it for later if we had
to go back again.

I did, for a
moment, consider swallowing my pride in the hope that he would be
more forthcoming but I just couldn’t do it. It really wouldn’t make
a difference anyway. And he would simply expect me to conform even
more next time. If I started off with non-conformity at least I had
somewhere to go from there.

I settled on a
different dress, wearing trousers was definitely a no-no. Even a
skirt/blouse combo would have been pushing it. I was all for
non-conformity but I did need to get into the building. The dress
code applies to everyone.

The dress I chose was a deep purple, hit me at mid-calf, and
had a scoop neck and short fluttery sleeves. It followed the lines
of my body perfectly - just this side of sexy, almost the
promise
of sexiness. To
push it over the edge, I added black fishnets with such a tight net
pattern that they were almost solid and black knee-high boots with
three-inch heels. It meant that you couldn’t see the fishnets
unless I was sitting down and purposefully flashed them. It was
something I had often done when I was younger; a small act of
rebellion against the dress code. One that wouldn’t get me left
outside in the cold. That had gotten old pretty fast. The boots
would also keep me warm on the way there.

No, the
fishnets and boots were not for my grandfather’s benefit, although
it would serve to annoy him. I knew that I shouldn’t care but I had
several old lovers at the Covenant. I probably wouldn’t even see
anyone but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. My first lovers had been
there and my pride was something to behold whenever I saw them. I
wanted them to know that they couldn’t have me any more. I wanted
them to want me anyway. It bordered on being mean but I’d had awful
taste in guys in my younger days.

I wished I
didn’t feel the need, but I didn’t change the tights or the boots.
I laced up the boots with dark purple laces and ribbons; they were
a modern take on a Victorian style. Then I fixed my hair and
make-up until not one thing was out of place. It would last all of
about 10 seconds once I walked out the door, but if I held the
image of myself as perfectly polished and made-up I could walk
taller. Didn’t mean I would pull it off but it made me feel better.
Confidence might be the difference between being helped and being
dismissed and bulldozed.

Eddie did a
double take when he saw me. I guess I had gone a little bit heavy
on the sexy but it was too late to change now. I’d put on lightish
make-up with a subtle smoky eye and natural lips. I would have
thought my clubbing wear would have more of an effect; apparently
the dress looked better than I’d thought. Either that or he was
just pleased that we couldn’t leave him behind. If we took Stripes
then we had to take Hercules and we couldn’t leave Eddie here
alone. It would have been mean and that we didn’t trust him alone
would sit unspoken in the air.

“Come on then,
we need to go,” I said. Everyone stood up at once, all the guys in
suits. It looked like Eddie had borrowed his from James as it was
slightly too long through the arm. He also had to wear low-heeled
boots to stop the legs from dragging along the floor. I almost
laughed at the sight of him in an ill-fitting suit; he looked like
a child playing dress-up. Then I remembered how he had looked
leaning against the wall in his t-shirt and jeans. No, definitely
not a child.

Hercules
surprised me by looking amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time
I had seen him dressed up even a little. His suit wasn’t perfect
but more in the sense that it wasn’t ridiculously expensive. It fit
him well and made me realise that Hercules was actually quite grown
up. His hair was neatly styled and his shoes were shined.

His face broke
out into a grin at my expression which completely ruined the grown
up effect. It made my heart skip a beat and I hurried to look
elsewhere. I’d been serious when I told Shayana that I wasn’t
interested. The thought made my throat tight. I really wanted
Shayana to be alright. I wanted to go to the Covenant and come home
to find her on our doorstep.

Getting to the
Covenant is not easy. We couldn’t just take the normal transport
pods because then our journey would be recorded and possibly
traced. We also had to try to stay away from the cameras so that
our journey wouldn’t be noticed. In theory it was fine ... nobody
was watching ... riiiight. If they didn’t use them, why would they
have the cameras? We couldn’t risk it. The Covenant, like us,
preferred to remain as anonymous as possible so they didn’t
generally allow mass comings and going via the front door.

We took the
back exit to the House. There were no cameras there as it opened
onto a narrow alleyway which leads nowhere. Well, supposedly leads
nowhere. There is a gate at the end of the alley that leads into a
whole network of so-called ‘invisible walkways’. Invisible because
they’ve managed to remain camera-free. It’s the most dangerous part
of the city; it’s where you go if you’re going to do something
illegal and you don’t want an audience.

It always felt
vaguely repellent to go in. Almost like it had picked up bits of
everything that had happened there. Humanity leaves its mark
everywhere and sometimes I’m convinced we leave impressions behind.
But that’s all just conspiracy theory since nobody has ever been
able to definitively read any residue. Necromancers don’t count.
They are all but extinct anyway.

We were
wrapped up in long coats, all black. The alleys and bypasses
weren’t heated like those in the main city and they channelled the
wind very effectively. The temperature is always about five degrees
colder. The wind comes off the sea and if you’re not careful you
can walk straight off the edge of a cliff. There were no safety
measures there; if something was broken it stayed that way. The
city doesn’t care.

James led and
Marlow brought up the rear. Stripes and I walked beside Hercules
and Eddie respectively. It may sound paranoid but people went
missing in these alleys. Stories of people who went in who never
came out. Sometimes bodies showing up in obscure locations,
sometimes they just vanished.

It sounded
like our current situation a little too much not to put me on edge.
Shayana wouldn’t be scared of these alleys and they covered most of
the country. It wouldn’t have been hard for someone to take her
from one. I huddled closer in my coat. I reminded myself that I had
nothing to fear, nobody would ever be able to take on all of us. We
would only be vulnerable alone.

The transport
system doesn’t extend to this part of town. For the most part the
general population ignored its existence completely. We walked
quicker than was natural. Following well-known paths that would
never be written down. It was a twenty-minute walk in the alley;
luckily, we didn’t meet anyone who would have caused us harm.
Several girls dressed in nearly nothing were dotted about the
place. We nodded curtly to them and kept walking. Their chances of
survival were almost nil; it always amazes me what people will do
to get high. They’d be lucky to keep from getting hypothermia in
the cold, let alone escape the other dangers.

Or maybe there
were other reasons they were here. Everyone always pities the poor
in the tiny box apartments where a window costs extra. Nobody ever
considers what happens to the people who can’t even afford that.
People with no family to rely on or no official citizenship. I
pushed the thought from my mind; it did me no good to dwell too
long on things I could not change.

The gate out
of the alleys is what you call unobtrusive. Not exactly hidden but
it blends in well. The alley looks like a dead-end with no lights
and extensive plant life. It opens to a key and a firm hand, if
you’re a supernatural.

There are
spells laid all around it, making humans feel uncomfortable near to
the door and completely unable to open it. The uncomfortable
feeling stopped people from staying close enough to the door for
long enough to break it down. The steel on the other side of the
wood helped too.

It always
reminds me of the secret garden; the other side of the gate is
completely different to the network of alleys. Bright flowers and
climbing vines surrounded the small courtyard with a stone path
through the middle. The late sun shone brightly down onto the stone
and we kept walking. My boots were starting to hurt my feet but I
didn’t complain. That would be to admit that I’d made a mistake in
wearing them. If you’re going to wear heels you don’t whine about
them because you damn well know that they’ll hurt when you put them
on.

The next and
last gate blends in so well with the rest of the wall that if you
didn’t know it was there you’d never see it. Which is, of course,
the whole point. Not that I’d ever heard of anyone actually coming
through the first gate, but it’s good to be prepared. Just in
case.

We changed
positions so that I was at the front of our little group. The
predators here wouldn’t see me as a victim just because I was a
woman. The people here would try to make a victim out of almost
anyone if they could. I was hoping that everyone I’d brought with
me would leave still ignorant of that fact.

I knocked on
the gate, hard enough to hurt my hand, but at least they couldn’t
say that they didn’t hear me. I hate going to the Covenant; it’s
supposed to be the sort of unofficial court of the supernaturals.
In general, shifters sort out their own problems and mishaps but
the witches like to think they’re in charge. We find it convenient
to allow them to continue their illusion, even if the only shifters
to ever be really involved are the true-borns. We are born into the
Covenants and we marry into it later. We often have some of the
best bloodlines any witch can boast. It never did seem to help my
popularity.

“Hey, let us
in. Stop being a dick!” If the guard hadn’t been who I suspected it
was that comment could have gone very badly. Normally, the chance
that he’d be on guard duty is about nothing. However, my
grandfather must have told people I was coming and he was there as
predicted. My grandfather did love to mess with me; I wouldn’t have
been surprised if the order for guard duty had come from him.

“Beatrice,
there is no need for such language.” He swung the gate wide and
bowed as I walked past. I suppressed the urge to kick his face
while he was looking down. At least he did a double take when he
looked up. I smiled and gave him a twirl. He laughed in his rich
deep voice and I had to suppress a shiver. Damn him.

“There’s
always need for such language with you, Jalas. Now where is my
grandfather?” I sounded tired which meant that at least I could
talk. Jalas was so much more than an old lover. He’s a centuries-
(don’t ask how many) old vampyre. Who, to top it off, isn’t a slave
to a witch because he used to be one. He’s also my old ‘partner’
from the time I spent helping my grandfather, which made him an
expert torturer.

At sixteen, my
goal became to never spend time with anyone so good at mind games
ever again. It made me wonder about the price my grandfather would
ask for his help and if I’d be willing to pay it. There are limits
to what I will do even for the life of a friend. If the choice was
clear cut - do this or she dies - I would probably choose her. But
I wasn’t going to make any binding deals on speculation.

“He’s in his
study,” Jalas replied with his old-English accent. I’d never asked
if it was his real accent or just one he’d picked up over the
years; to be honest, I really didn’t care. My only reference point
was old films and I didn’t entirely trust the sound quality on
them. That, and the accent was older than the films by a couple
hundred years.

“Figures. Come
on.” I motioned for everyone to follow me and stepped onto an old
railway carriage. I had a feeling that it was real and not a
replica. It ran on original and amazingly unrusted railway tracks.
Everyone else, including to my annoyance Jalas, tramped onto the
carriage after me. The control panel was definitely more modern
than the rest.