The Queen Is Dead (The Immortal Empire) (34 page)

Stoke had stopped screaming. Out of the corner of my eye I saw what was left of him ooze across the stone floor. William had changed back to the form I recognised as his true visage, and licked the blood from his muzzle. He stared down at the mess of Stoke with grim satisfaction.

“William, we have to get out of here.” The disembodied voice announced that we had but a minute left. Plenty of time, but I would prefer not to push it.

“What are you going to do with me?” the duchess asked as
I dragged her outside into the waning night. Dawn was fast approaching. aping I’dI had to get my goblins underground immediately.

“Right now, I’m going to save your life,” I replied, letting her go. I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to kill her, but for some mad reason, my rational mind chose that moment to kick in. I couldn’t kill her here. If I did, the Yard would snatch me up for certain. There would be witnesses. I couldn’t drag her off for the same reason. People were rushing around us, and I couldn’t risk it.

I couldn’t turn her in either–not because of the scandal, but because if the Yard got her, I would never find out who she was working with. I couldn’t stop anyone else present from giving her up to the coppers, but if she wasn’t here when they arrived, an investigation would have to follow. It would buy me enough time to question her first.

And then maybe I could kill her.

She rubbed her neck and eyed me warily. Sirens approached in the distance as the Tower alarms rang around us. I watched as coloured smoke unfurled behind modern windows set in ancient stone. If there was anyone left inside, they wouldn’t be alive for long. Goblins scattered as the noise and flashing lights drew closer.

“Why would you save me?” Duchess Vardan asked, still rubbing her neck.

I shot her a narrow glance as I turned to walk away. I didn’t care if she was picked up by the peelers or not. She’d pay for what she’d done here. “So that some day I can make you wish I hadn’t.”

The next few hours were chaos. Special Branch made certain that all the prisoners who had escaped from the Tower were taken to hospital to be examined–questions would wait. I stuck around and gave my statement instead. I had no intention of telling them I’d also been a prisoner–no bloody way was I letting anyone at Prince Albert Hospital poke around inside me, not when they’d been the place that had kept a false file on me, or rather an empty one. I’d go to a doctor of my own choosing.

I told the Yard that I’d been looking for my brother, that Penny had rung me and that I’d arrived at Freak Show just in time to see her taken away by betties. I’d followed her here, and Vex and William had met me shortly thereafter. We’d set off the alarms to alert the authorities and had done what we could to save the prisoners. It was an easy lie, and close enough to the truth that all of us involved could remember it.

The goblins were gone, taking as many logic engines as they could with them. Only William remained, despite my telling him to get underside. He wanted the duchess’s throat between his jaws, I could see it in his eye. He’d have to wait his turn.

“Yours, this is.” He held out his hand.

It was my dagger. The blood had been wiped from the blade, and it glittered prettily under the lights–almost opalescent. “Thank you.” I’d no doubt dropped it at Freak Show. To be honest, I was surprised to get it back. I would have thought a betty would have absconded with it.

He bowed his head. “The MacLaughlin would have retrieved it, but ’twas too intent on finding the lady. A most suitable consort is the wolf.”

I had to smile at that. “Go home,” I told him. “Clean yourself up and spend time with Elsbeth. Find out what’s on those logic engines.”

He bowed his shaggy, matted head and then did something that surprised me. He hugged me–hard. His fur smelled good. “Almost lost our mos >lady,” he said. “Never again.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that William might actually care about me. I thought much of his deference to me was because he saw me as the answer to the plague’s prayers. That he was legitimately concerned for my well-being was enough to make my chest tight.

I hugged him back and then sent him away before the sun rose. He was cutting it close as it was, and even the dark glasses, hat and coat he’d retrieved when we came outside couldn’t shield him. There were plenty of places for him to find underside access this close to the Thames, so I had no worries that he’d soon be safe.

The Special Branch agents surrounded Val, happy to see him. I let him have this time to answer their questions. There wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t be looking for the remaining betties who had taken him. They also needed to wait their turn.

Penny sat in the back of an ambulance, letting the Emergency Procedure Techs–the EPTs–check her for injuries or any side effects of the drugs she’d been given. Thankfully, she hadn’t been hurt.

“Trouble has a rather pesky way of finding you, Your Majesty.”

I turned towards the pain-in-my-arse voice. “Why, DI Maine, what an unexpected surprise.”

He eyed me suspiciously. I guess saving his life didn’t totally
absolve me of all guilt in his estimation. “Your brother says he doesn’t know who was in charge of this cluster fuck.”

I arched a brow. “Eloquence is obviously your strong suit. I get the impression that you think I might have the answers he doesn’t?”

“It would be very helpful if we had someone to hang this on, yeah.”

“Sorry, mate. I don’t have the foggiest.”

He didn’t believe me, and I didn’t think it was because I was a shit liar, because I was actually pretty good at it when I wanted to be. The aristos unfortunate enough to be caught–there might have been two of them–had been hauled off in Black Marias along with the rest of the apprehended staff. Had one of them given my father’s wife’s name?

I didn’t think the duchess was the mastermind, but she was obviously among the upper echelon. Could I end her? In a second, and not even blink. I would have mixed emotions about Church until the day I died, but not that bitch.

Of course, I couldn’t say all of this to Maine. “I’ve given my statement. Might I go now?”

He shrugged. “I can’t stop you. I may have further questions for you.”

“You know where to find me.” I turned to walk away. I was so tired I was ready to fall asleep on my feet. Even anger couldn’t sustain me. I just needed for this night to be over. There were so many things I should do, people I should confront, but I couldn’t think of a bloody reason to do any of it that wouldn’t wait. Val was safe–alive–and that was all that mattered.

“Your Majesty?” This time it was said without mockery, as Maine fell into step beside me. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? Had saving his rotten life meant nothing?

“What?”

“Be careful.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how sweet he was to care, but the caustic retort never made it to my lips as he pivoted on his heel and strode away, towards the rising sun. I squinted at it. Time for this goblin to get the hell home.

I collected Vex and we took his motor carriage as the Butler was still at Freak Show. I’d go back for it later.

Vex had ingested enough blood during the raid on the Tower that the sunrise didn’t hurt him. I wondered if the duchess had made it to safety, and smiled at the mental picture of her getting caught in the sun and being reduced to a mound of bloody slush. I didn’t know what happened to an unfed aristo under the full brunt of the sun–I’d never seen it happen–but for fantasy purposes, this would do.

Once at my place, I went straight to my room, stripped and crawled into bed. Vex did the same. We wrapped our arms around each other in the dark and drifted off to sleep without saying a word. Talking could wait.

When we finally crawled out of bed later that day, the sun was already setting. I got myself over to PAH–Prince Albert Hospital–which catered to halvies and occasionally aristos. It was located in Cavendish Square between the gardens and Oxford Street. Like many buildings of its generation, it was ostentatious red brick with white trim and high, narrow windows. It even had a bell tower on top, though I’d never known the bell to ring.

Vex was with me. I told him he didn’t have to come, but he had pack members to check on–Annalise, the girl who had
been injured in the League attack, and Rye, who was included in the pack simply by virtue of being born half-blood.

Most men would be jealous of me running off first thing to check on an old lover, but Vex wasn’t like most men.

“Winter’s going to need people he can trust to help him adjust to freedom. He’s been a prisoner and abused for years. A man doesn’t just recover from that. It takes time. He’ll need you, and he’ll need his pack.”

I kissed him. “You’re incredible.”

He gave me a lopsided smile. “But if he touches you, I’ll break his pretty face.”

I laughed. I was fairly certain he was joking. Fairly.

He left me at the door to Rye’s room. The fact that I’d been given credit for rescuing him got me inside. The guards were under strict orders not to admit anyone but authorised personnel.

There was only one bed in the small room, and Rye was in it. The blinds were open, letting in a sun that had come out after a drenching rain. He was staring at it, eyes narrow, as though he’d never seen daylight before. I supposed it had been a few years at least.

He was clean, his bronze hair brushed back from his gaunt face. His bones were too sharp, his eyes too sunken for him to be considered beautiful, but he was still finer than most. Once he gained some weight, he’d have girls chucking their knickers at him again.

It was good to see him–wonderful to know he was alive–but my heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of him like it used to. My stomach didn’t flutter. This was why Vex wasn’t jealous, because he already knew what I’d just figured out–I wasn’t in love with Ryecroft Winter any more.

“I’m surprised you’re awake,” I said.

His head jerked towards me, eyes going wide. Hadn’t he heard me come in? Or was he so adept at escaping into his own mind that he spent the majority of his time there?

“Xandy,” he said, in a voice lower and rougher than I remembered. “I thought you were a dream.”
eamthere

I smiled as I approached his bed, tried not to notice how many tubes were running in and out of him, or wires he had attached. “Nightmare, maybe. How are you, Rye?”

“I don’t know.” His lips–he’d always had the most perfect mouth–curved slightly. “I’d given up hope of ever getting out. I’m having a hard time accepting that I’m free.”

I reached out and wrapped my hand around his. “You are. And I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

His smile faded. “Xandy, it was Churchill…”

“I know. He’s gone, Rye. He’s dead.”

“Dead? Really?”

I nodded.

“Fuck.” Disappointment and anger flashed in his eyes, and tightened his features. “The thought of some day killing that bastard was the one thing I had to hold on to.”

“Well, now you can hold on to something else.”

The way he looked at me made me think he wanted me to be that something. I was the girl he’d loved, and I’d saved his life. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling, but I knew that as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was going to have to put a little distance between us if I didn’t want him becoming too attached.

“They’re going to let me out in a couple of days,” he told me. “That is if the psych exam pans out. I reckon it could go either way.”