Judged Page 6

  And that’s all the journey needed to erupt into a full-blown conversation about smooth moves, bad dates and conquests. I grin to myself and sit back, letting their one-upmanship roll over me. By the time we hit the West End my stomach hurts from laughing so much at them both and they’ve both forgotten to pester me about the migraines that have become the bane of my existence.

  Dante parks near Covent Garden and leads the way to the Island club, which I never would have found because it’s down too many winding side-streets.

  The place isn’t as big as Milton’s, but it is busy. Aiden scans the crowd with a quick glance, his gaze snagging on a booth in the corner.

  ‘There are Fae here,’ he says. ‘Also another were, but not sure what type.’

  ‘Will they be an issue?’ I glance around but my sight shows me nothing but a lot of energy being generated by the people on the dance floor.

  ‘Not sure. Let’s go get something to drink and then we try to find our friend Marko.’

  I take the lead and weave my way across the floor. The music is good but not, I think wryly, as good as Torsten’s music had been at Milton’s. At the bar, I get lucky and am served quickly – an alcopop for me and beer for the boys.

  ‘I thought you didn’t drink,’ Dante says, looking at the alcopop.

  ‘I don’t. It lets me blend in.’

  Aiden looks up from his phone. ‘Marko’s earlier text says he’s at a table near the back, in the VIP area.’

  ‘Listen, Aide, he might remember me,’ I say, hanging back. ‘He saw me when we busted Morika and her merry band of faerie followers the last time.’

  ‘Ah, but Strach’s boys hit him with a memory spell so he may not remember you at all.’ Aiden peers over my head towards the VIP area. ‘He definitely won’t recognize me. Unless I turn wolf on him.’

  I nod when I remember that big wolf’s paw pressing Marko into the concrete floor of the warehouse two months ago. ‘Yeah, okay, let’s do this.’

  We push our way back through the dancing crowd and Aiden casually jabs a guy in the gut who tries to grind up against me. By the time we get to the other side of the dance floor we’re all three a little out of breath and there’s a high colour on Dante’s cheeks.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he says, giving a weird little shiver like he’s shaking off water. ‘There are a lot of hungry, desperate people out there. If I don’t concentrate on you and Aiden, I can hear everything they want.’

  Aiden looks as worried as I feel, and I nudge Dante lightly. ‘You want to wait elsewhere if your senses are giving you trouble? Outside, maybe?’

  ‘No, I think I’m okay. I have to figure out how they work. Now’s as good a time as any. Let’s find this Marko guy and take him and his buddies down.’

  The VIP area is guarded by a large, heavily tattooed, tank of a guy, wearing a wife-beater and black jeans. He looks about as friendly as a bulldog with a flea infestation. As we near he lifts the tablet from the table next to him.

  ‘Names?’

  ‘Ah, we’re not on there, I think. We’re here to meet Marko.’ Aiden doesn’t smile or turn on the charm. Instead his eyes scan the tables behind the tank. ‘He said he’d be here.’

  The man scowls. ‘Yeah, he left about ten minutes ago. And because you’re not on my list, you can’t go back there. Feel free to take off.’ With that he puts a hand against Aiden’s chest and pushes him lightly, increasing the pressure when Aiden doesn’t budge. Before Aiden can react, Dante’s there, pulling Aiden away. I give the tank a stink-eye as I follow the boys.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Punching that guy is not a smart idea,’ I tell Aiden as we sit down at the tiny table they’ve managed to secure. ‘We should check around, see what else we can see.’

  He grunts and takes an aggressive gulp of his beer. ‘Where the hell did that Marko guy go? When we spoke he said he’d be around for at least another hour and now he’s not answering his phone.’

  ‘People change their minds, Aide. Calm down.’ Dante’s between us and has an arm wrapped around both our shoulders. I realize that he’s mostly stopping Aiden from standing up and decking the tank in charge of VIP security, if only to feel the satisfaction of some kind of action. ‘There’s still a chance we’ll figure something out.’

  I shrug out from under Dante’s arm and glance over the dance floor as if I’m looking for someone. I focus my sight, seeing if I can spot the faeries Aiden mentioned when we walked in. Their energy spikes differently from humans’ and if I concentrate it’s easy enough to spot, even in a place as brimful of energy as this. I don’t often do this, allow my magic to flow from me, surfing the stream of energies pulsing around us. It feels incredible, as if you’re being drawn along a strong welcoming tide that envelops, heals and soothes all tiredness from you. But it is dangerous to do this without an anchor to pull you back. I’ve read a few accounts where magicians have escaped into the expelled energies during a ritual and lost their minds, becoming nothing more than broken shells of their previous selves. The trick is never to get wholly sucked into the energy you’re connecting with – be it directly from the songlines which channel the earth’s magical energy or during a ritual where energy has been raised through chanting or a suitable sacrifice. But it’s hard to pull back. The temptation is always to open yourself further, for longer, to just keep absorbing.

  With this in mind I curl my nails into the palm of my hand and squeeze tight. Using the pain I’m inflicting on myself as an anchor, I let my magic surge forward, tracking the Fae that are present. Two are dancing, one’s buying a drink at the bar and the last one …

  I find her easily enough. She’s crowding a human girl with pale hair and dark eyes against the wall near the VIP area. The faerie looks as if she’s taken her outfit tips from Marilyn Manson himself. She’s bleached bone pale with enormous gold eyes that reflect the club’s light in a crazy way. And because of the way she’s dressed, presenting this persona, there’s no alarm in the human girl’s expression when the faerie presses kisses to her neck, or when the faerie whispers something to her and it makes the human girl blush and nod.

  I narrow my focus and my sight brings them into sharp focus. The faerie has something in her hand and when she opens her palm, the girl looks absolutely thrilled, nodding enthusiastically, reaching for whatever it is.

  ‘We’ve got one,’ I say over my shoulder, knowing that Aiden would hear me even over his conversation with Dante. ‘Watch my back but don’t interfere. Unless there’s more than five of them. Then come in swinging.’

  I push my way through the dancing crowd with little finesse, provoking a few angry glares. The faerie and the girl are still there, talking quietly and intimately, but the second I’m within six feet of them, the faerie lifts her head and looks directly at me with those unearthly golden eyes and a smile on her carnelian lips.

  ‘Blackhart.’

  Her teeth, I realize, look very sharp against the fullness of her lips, especially the canines. I hesitate for a second because this is not the look Fae usually go for.

  ‘You have me at a disadvantage,’ I say, keeping my tone civil.

  ‘Good. You have no right to interfere with me. I have a token from my liege.’ At that she shows me her slender wrist and sure enough, the small silver token on a delicate bracelet glints up at me.

  ‘I’m not here to send you back. I’m here to ask you about the Glow.’

  The human girl turns slowly to look at me; her pupils are blown wide from whatever she’s taken. I assume it’s Glow, possibly even something else. I remember Aiden’s words to me a month ago, asking me how things can go so badly for some humans that they’d go out of their way to smear, ingest and inject themselves with all kinds of substances merely to forget. I had no answer then and I still have no answer, but looking at this very pretty dainty girl with the dark eyes and too much mascara and eyeliner, I sense a deep-seated sadness in her and I have to resist the urge to just hold her tight.
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  I glance back at the faerie. ‘Did she take the tablet you gave her?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She looks down at the girl, and leans down for another soft kiss. ‘I found her like this.’

  ‘We need to talk,’ I tell her, stepping closer. ‘Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want a scene. Just come with me.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’ Her gaze moves past me and I sense the solid muscle of both Dante and Aiden behind me and I grin at her.

  ‘I can ask my friends to help me.’

  Before she can move, the human girl sways on her heels and moves towards me.

  ‘Look,’ she whispers, staring at Dante, her voice breathy and awestruck. ‘He’s so pretty. Is he real?’ Then her gaze turns to me and she dimples a smile. ‘You’re all so beautiful, but he’s extra beautiful. Just look.’ With that she moves to stand before Dante, peering up at him. ‘Can you see his antlers? They’re wide, huge, rising all the way to the sky. Is he magic, Dorya? Is he one of you?’

  Dorya, obviously the faerie, shakes her head pityingly and lets out a little put-upon sigh. ‘Humans are so easily distracted,’ she mutters, then stares at me. ‘But not you.’

  ‘I really think we should talk. Away from the crowd.’ And just to make it clear, I press further. ‘Privately.’

  My hand rests lightly on her wrist, the gold band of my ring brushing lightly against the skin there.

  Dorya tilts her head to the side a little and I will the magic in the ring to help convince her. I keep the touch of my magic light and brief, but even so the result is her taking a moment to consider my request before inclining her head in a queenly fashion.

  Dante falls in behind me and we trail Dorya through the side exit and into the narrow alleyway behind the nightclub. I lead Dorya further into the alleyway, away from the smokers around the door, and am grateful for Dante’s bulk blocking us so we can talk privately.

  She slouches against the wall and her skin looks luminous in the dim lighting. ‘Tell me, Blackhart, why exactly do you care what these humans do with their spare time?’

  ‘I care because these humans you’re referring to are dying because of a drug, Dorya, that you seem to have no qualms about handing over. And I’m pretty sure you know this, but in case you don’t, it is still illegal to distribute the stuff in the first place. In both realms. I don’t care whether your token is from the Sun King or Suola, you are breaking the law. And because of that, I can actually send you back to be judged by your Court.’

  ‘You’re prepared to risk that?’ Her gaze flicks to Dante, who’s remained very quiet throughout. ‘It could be a diplomatic debacle.’

  ‘I don’t see it that way.’ I smile and it’s the kind of expression Aiden’s told me will get me beaten up one day. ‘You break our laws – I have permission to send you back. Simple.’ I look over my shoulder at Dante; he’s clearly read my intention. ‘Or, we can have a nice talk and you tell me what I want. My friend here has some skill with magic.’ He steps closer and there’s something dangerous in his demeanour, as if he’s going to enjoy how the next few moments play out. I look at her and let my smile grow wide.

  She doesn’t actually back up, but she straightens to frown at me.

  ‘Blackhart, don’t do this.’

  ‘What? We’re having a friendly discussion.’

  Her eyes rest on Dante, where he’s opening and closing his hands by his side. Every time he flicks open his hand a ball of blue swirling energy appears. When he shuts his hands it disappears. He does this a few times, and it’s an impressive display of magic for a Fae in the Frontier. Dorya watches, then actually focuses properly on him.

  ‘Kami,’ she says, and there’s something like awe in her voice. ‘You have a kami working for you. Voluntarily? How did you … what have you promised him?’

  ‘Dante is a friend,’ I say, and watch him shake his hands, letting blue fire drip from his fingers like water. The magic hits the ground at his feet and spreads like wildfire. But unlike wildfire it doesn’t burn out of control. Instead it circles him, blue flames shooting into the air on an ‘up’ gesture from him, blazing happily in the darkened alleyway.

  He’s clearly been practising this and I feel a stupid amount of pride at the little display and grin at him in approval.

  Dorya’s still eyeing Dante and I wonder if she’s sorting through the various stories she’s heard about kami, or Japanese nature spirits, in her head. About how their powers can cut off a Fae’s magic from the Otherwhere completely. And how adept they can become at draining other Fae to the point of mortal death – whilst themselves growing stronger. None of these stories could be disproven and Dante remains an unknown quantity, a weapon in my arsenal, and I have no qualms about directing him right at my target.

  Dorya’s smile is now less predatory and a little sickly. ‘And if I do tell you what you want to know?’

  ‘We can come to some agreement, where you may remain in the Frontier.’

  ‘With a Blackhart as an ally?’

  ‘Let’s not push my generosity.’

  Chapter Nine

  We’ve had maybe four hours’ sleep in the past twenty-four hours. I feel wrecked and the boys both look pretty near to breaking point. We head home hardly talking, each of us busy with our own thoughts. My mind flicks between Jane in hospital and the information Dorya gave us. Her drugs came from an old ‘knocker’, a type of mining goblin. They frequent the deeper parts of mines all around the world (says the handy phone app Kyle made me). This particular knocker, he goes by the name Antone Pensa, does the occasional bit of business from the Fae Hold in North London. He’s been in the human world for such a long time that he apparently no longer presents as Fae and looks mostly wholly human. Interestingly, Dorya’s take on Marko was less than flattering. She didn’t like him or any of his crew.

  He seems to have a problem with the Fae, so whenever they are working the same club, she usually lets him know, as a courtesy. Invariably she’s the one to leave, to move on to another club. But tonight Marko and his little crew were the ones who opted to go elsewhere. Dorya knew that Marko has steady access to Glow and that he runs raves, especially down in Brighton and on the Kent coast – his speciality, apparently. Other than that, she didn’t know much more about Marko or the boss who runs the Jericho Gang at all.

  On our way back to the house I ring the North London Hold. When I ask to speak with the Lady Mar, I’m told she’s not at home but would be the following day. The voice on the line sounds young, pre-teen and friendly. So I tell him who I am and that I’d like to meet with Mar as soon as possible. My name seems to startle him a little, but within minutes I’ve got my appointment. The young voice tells me his name is Laurent and he is Lady Mar’s grandson. We say our goodbyes and hang up.

  Back at the Garretts’ I give each of the guys a brief hug before heading to bed. I need a few more hours’ sleep and another shot of painkillers to get rid of the lingering sore head. The good thing about the painkillers? They make me drowsy. The bad thing about the painkillers? They make me drowsy – even when I’m awake. And the drowsiness doesn’t help the accompanying nausea either.

  The house is quiet and once I’ve showered and pulled the covers up over my head, sleep takes me.

  I sit down for breakfast around midday, after a few hours of bad dreams and tossing and turning. I let the mirror pendant on my necklace dangle from my fingers. Dante carries over our plates of sandwiches before taking a seat opposite.

  ‘Someone moved my necklace.’

  ‘Where from?’

  ‘It was on my bedside table but when I went to put it on, I found it on the floor.’

  ‘I’ve not touched your stuff.’

  ‘I didn’t say you did. Maybe Aiden?’

  ‘He wouldn’t touch your things either, Kit.’ Dante wrinkles his nose and drops his voice low, trying for humour. ‘It’s girl stuff.’

  I run my finger across the surface of the black mirror con
templatively and look up at him from beneath raised brows.

  ‘I’m going to try to sing it awake,’ I say, and my voice wavers only slightly.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do that now? You don’t look so good. Will it be a strain if it works?’

  I move my shoulders in a half-shrug. ‘I don’t know, mostly because it’s not really worked before. Why would today be different?’

  ‘Okay. But have something to eat first, maybe. Give your magic something to riff on that’s not just caffeine based.’

  I nod and pick at my sandwiches. ‘You’ll make someone a good wife,’ I tell him.

  ‘Husband.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  But he’s smiling at me, digging into his own food. He gets up and pours us each a cup of hot chocolate from the pan on the stovetop. I pull it closer and inhale the smell of the chocolate deeply and sigh with contentment.

  ‘You are my favourite, Dante Alexander. Ever.’

  ‘You like me because I feed you, no other reason.’

  ‘Eh, sometimes you even manage to fight like you were trained properly.’

  I get a little push for my sass but he chuckles. When we’ve cleaned up after lunch, he gestures towards the pendant.

  ‘Okay, do your thing. Let’s see if we can find your boyfriend.’

  I roll my eyes at the boyfriend thing but I pull the necklace closer and run my fingers over the surface. I close my eyes and recall the lullaby Thorn sang those long months ago. I know the tune well; it’s settled beneath my skin.

  I hum it when I’m alone and I tap the rhythm on my knee when I watch TV or when I’m thinking. I know I do this because Kyle’s told me and I’ve caught Aiden frowning and shushing me. I hum the refrain, reaching for a small sliver of my magic and start singing the tune, my voice nowhere near as clear as Thorn’s or as pure. But I put a lot of strong will into the tune and I hope that makes up for my lack of musical talent.

  I have very little hope that Thorn will reply. These scrying mirrors seem to have a will of their own and the other times I’ve tried since he gave me the pendant only ever met with static.