Society of Supernatural Sleuths Box Set 1, page 12
The pressure on Scarlet relaxed momentarily, so she took the opportunity to ask it. “He was with the Order?”
Rothschild continued. “Cruces practically is the Order. He is almost the oldest of us. Older than me. Older even than Elder. The ring was forged soon after he became one of us. His line is ancient and powerful. His father is the father of so many of us, and began the war against the fey.”
Scarlet’s heart sank at that. Cruces was one of the Order? Had he really been playing a game like that with her all this time? With Holmes? There was no time to think about it, because in that moment, Elder was biting into his own wrist. Blood such a deep red it was almost black bubbled to the surface. Elder pressed his wrist to her mouth.
Scarlet kept her mouth tightly shut. She knew what ingesting a vampire’s blood might do to her, and she had no wish to be one of them. Except that, sooner or later, she would give in.
“Let her go!”
Scarlet almost sighed with relief at that. The one voice she had been hoping for. Tavian.
Chapter 19
Still kneeling, Scarlet half-turned and Tavian was there. He held a long wooden spear, worked with sigils that seemed to flow into one another in knots and spirals. He hefted it, and then threw the spear at Elder like a javelin. The spear hit the vampire, but seemed to pass right through him, flashing a brilliant blue as it did so. The same blueness seemed to surround Elder, and he was still, apparently frozen in place.
“That was a fey spear,” Rothschild remarked, clearly amazed that Tavian should possess such a thing.
Cecilia seemed almost as surprised, staring at her brother. “You made it through the barrier between worlds? You retrieved a spear?”
“No.” That voice was as familiar as Tavian’s. Cruces was there, stepping through the door behind the gypsy man. “I just happen to have one hidden away where a thief like you cannot get to it.” He pointed at Cecilia. “You will owe me an explanation, Cecilia. But that can wait, given how briefly the effects of the spear last.”
Cruces was over to Scarlet in less time than it took to blink, his hands cool on her arms as he helped her up. He held her tightly, squeezing her hands, his worry over her obvious. Even so, Scarlet knew what she had to ask.
“They said you were part of them. That you were with the Order.”
Cruces hesitated briefly, but nodded. “A long time ago, yes. I know better now.” He looked over to where Rothschild stood. “I wish I could say the same for you, old friend.”
“Friend?” Rothschild said it lightly, but Scarlet could feel the anger there. “You are touching my property, Cruces. I have marked the girl fairly. She is mine.”
“Marked her, certainly,” Cruces said. “But fairly? In any case, you clearly do not care about stealing what is another’s. I would like my ring back now, Rothschild.”
Rothschild laughed softly. “Take it if you think you can.”
Cruces nodded, lifting Scarlet’s hand to his lips, kissing it before gently pushing her towards Tavian. “Scarlet, go to Tavian, he will keep you safe in what is to come.”
Scarlet did not like the sound of that. “Cruces…”
Cruces was already squaring up to Rothschild, violence promised by every line of his expression. When he looked back to Scarlet, his fangs were prominent.
“Go now! I don’t want you caught up in this.”
“It is a little too late for that, Cruces,” Rothschild said. “Scarlet has been caught up in this from the moment it began. Or did you think this was coincidence?”
“He said I was the reason for this,” Scarlet explained, from the side.
“You didn’t think this was just about your ring, did you?” He reached into a pocket and produced something that shone gold in the light. “After all, I have my own. We need Scarlet more than that, though I must admit that depriving you of the things you want is rather fun, old friend. First your ring. Then the girl. Most enjoyable. I think you’ll agree that I owe you that much.”
“No,” Cruces said. “You don’t.”
“Cruces!” The vampire aristocrat had been correct about the effects of the spear being temporary. Elder stood as he spoke and threw himself on Cruces. The two vampires fought in a flurry of limbs and flashing fangs, trading blows and slamming one another against the walls of the room with seemingly impossible force. When Elder drove Cruces face first into the wall by the fireplace, Scarlet was surprised that it did not give way completely.
Their struggles were furious, but they also meant that Cruces was no longer in a position to confront Rothschild. Even as Scarlet stepped back towards Tavian, Rothschild pushed past her, lifting the young gypsy man one handed and pushing him back against the nearest wall with his teeth bared. “I believe Miss Seely is with me, not you.” He looked over to Cecilia. “Fetch her for me, Cecilia.”
Cecilia looked at Rothschild for several seconds, and Scarlet prepared herself to have to protect herself from the other girl. Then Cecilia did the one thing Scarlet hadn’t been expecting. She stepped forward and slapped Rothschild sharply. It probably wasn’t that hard in vampire terms, but the shock of it was enough for Tavian to slip free, darting past them.
“Why you…”
“That’s for how you used me, and that’s for my brother,” Cecilia said. “How dare you discard me like that, you… monster.”
Scarlet admired the other girl’s fire, but there were more important things right then than telling Rothschild what they thought of him. “Cecilia, where is Gordon? Where is Cruces’ ring?”
Cecilia looked like she might say something, but before she could, Rothschild’s hands were on her throat. They squeezed with the kind of terrible force that only a vampire could bring to bear, and Cecilia fell to the ground, unmoving.
“No!” Tavian rushed past Scarlet, her dagger in his hand. He had obviously taken it from where it had fallen in the grate, and now he used it to slash and thrust at Rothschild. The vampire was fast, but he clearly knew that the knife could harm him, because he was wary and unwilling to close the distance. He and Tavian darted around in a frantic game of cat and mouse, even while Cruces and Elder continued their wall shaking struggle.
Scarlet ignored both conflicts for a moment, kneeling beside Cecilia, trying to find some sign of life. One look told her that Cecilia’s neck was broken, her throat crushed, but Scarlet sought for some slim sign of life anyway. There was none.
“I’m sorry, Cecilia,” Scarlet said softly. “I’m sorry that the people you thought loved you didn’t, and that you couldn’t see the ones who did.”
She stood then, and saw that Tavian was doing well in his fight against Rothschild. He had the vampire hemmed in and was making short, slashing cuts, ready to move in for the kill with a thrust to the heart. After what Rothschild had done, Scarlet would gladly have plunged the blade home herself.
In that moment though, a cry came from Cruces. Scarlet turned, and saw Elder with the fey spear in his ancient hands, while Cruces was surrounded with the faint blue glow that suggested he had been stabbed with it. Cruces was helpless, in no position to resist as Elder dropped the spear and prepared to finish him.
Scarlet reacted on instinct. Without so much as pausing to consider what it might mean, she levered the dagger out of Tavian’s hands, gripped it tightly, and leapt towards the spot where Elder’s arm was already going back for the killing blow. Scarlet plunged the dagger into his back at heart height, feeling no resistance as the dagger plunged into ancient, paper thin flesh. In less than a second, all that was left of one of the world’s most ancient vampires was a pile of silvery dust.
A pile in which something glinted golden. Cruces’ ring. Scarlet bent, picking it up and holding it to the light. It was almost identical to Rothschild’s. She would have given it to Cruces had he not still been stunned by the spear. Instead, Scarlet held it a second longer.
Heat poured from it, making the metal almost burning hot. Scarlet dropped the ring, then managed to pick it up daintily in her handkerchief. As she did so, Rothschild laughed. He wasn’t standing far from Tavian, but he was obviously in no danger now that Tavian did not have the dagger.
“I knew it!” he said, with a level of glee that was almost gloating. “I was the one who told the others in the Order how important it was to find the right girl, and I was right. You are a tracker for us, Scarlet. Every Device you touch will respond to you.”
“And through the mark on me, you will feel it,” Scarlet guessed. That explained why she had been marked rather than killed, at least.
Rothschild bowed like an actor receiving applause. “Finally, you understand. Oh, Holmes will be so proud when you go back to him. Oops.” He put a hand to his mouth theatrically. “You can’t, can you?”
Scarlet looked over at the vampire, then at Tavian. “What is he hinting at? Did something happen to Holmes?”
Tavian shook his head. “I do not know. He was not there when I went looking.”
“You think he was there at all?” Rothschild countered. “The right actor, with the right glamour…”
“You arranged that too,” Scarlet guessed.
“Well, I had to be sure that you would be pointed at the case. Why else do you think London’s most famous detective did not clear the matter up in a trice? All that nonsense about you being the only person for the job.” Rothschild considered it for a moment. “Well, perhaps it isn’t nonsense. You are exactly the right person to do the job the Order wants done.”
Scarlet shook her head. “You think I am really going to help you?”
Rothschild laughed once more. “I think you are going to help Holmes and Gordon.”
“What have you done with them?” Scarlet demanded. It was hard to keep from using the dagger on the vampire, but if she did so, Scarlet knew that she might not see either man again. It was enough to make her curb her temper, for now.
Rothschild shook his head, and then moved. In less than a second, he was over at one of the doors leading from the room, half out of it and looking back. He glanced at Cecilia with something akin to regret, then, though the expression did not last.
“That is something you will have to find out for yourself,” he said. “Of course, since the Order dealt with them in a way that will undoubtedly require the Devices to find them once more…”
“You have created a situation where I have to look for the Devices whether I want to or not,” Scarlet finished for him. “You want me to put together the pieces, while you stay consistently just one step behind.”
Rothschild shook his head. “Oh no, dear Scarlet. Not behind. Not always. When it comes to the Devices, I assure you that we will be ahead of you, in the end. Now, I should go, because undoubtedly Cruces over there will regain the ability to move momentarily, and I have no fondness for facing superior forces.”
“You should get used to it,” Scarlet warned.
Rothschild raised an eyebrow. “You actually believe that? And I was starting to have such respect for your intelligence. The Order is large. It is ancient. And it is growing. You are not some raging forest fire to overwhelm us, Scarlet. You are a few points of light that will eventually be snuffed out when you have shown us what we need to see. Farewell.”
He was gone through the door before Scarlet could move to stop him. She had more sense than to follow. Rothschild would have a way out, and for now… for now there was Cecilia to consider, along with Tavian’s grief, and too many other things to deal with at once. For all that they had recovered the ring, it did not feel much like a victory to Scarlet in that moment.
Chapter 20
The darkness hung about them like a shroud as they stood outside the caravan Tavian shared with his sister. He’d moved it away from the main gypsy camp, partly so that he could be alone with his grief, and partly so that Cruces could travel with them for this last part. Cecilia’s body was laid out on the earth before the caravan, and Tavian knelt over her, his tears obvious to Scarlet even in the half light.
Scarlet stayed near him, even though she could feel Cruces’ eyes on her. Tavian needed her then, and she wanted to comfort him during his pain. On the way over, Cruces had explained the gypsy way when it came to funerals. When dawn came, Tavian would put his sister’s body in the caravan and burn it around her as a funeral pyre. Until then, it seemed, all they could do was be there for him. Even Cruces stood there, his fey spear leaning against the caravan, where he’d placed it “just in case” he’d said.
“I know my sister did many things wrong,” Tavian said after kneeling there silently for a while. “I know she did things to hurt both of you, but she was my sister, and I will miss her.”
Scarlet reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. It didn’t seem like enough, somehow.
“I know,” she said. “I’ll remember her too. There were a couple of moments when I felt like there was some kind of kinship between the two of us. Like we at least understood one another.”
Scarlet knelt beside Tavian then, her arm around him. She pulled him close to bury his face against her, feeling the wetness of his tears on her skin.
“I’m going to go and find a drink,” Cruces declared, “or it’s going to be a long night.”
Scarlet saw the look of jealousy that crossed his face as he said it, but right then, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Tonight was about Tavian’s grief, not about whatever Cruces felt for her. So she knelt with the young gypsy man pressed close to her while Cruces left, slipping off into the dark. She knelt like that for what felt like several minutes, feeling the rise and fall of Tavian’s chest against her as he didn’t bother to hold back the tears.
Perhaps what happened next was inevitable. Tavian pulled away from her slightly, looking at Scarlet through tear-stained eyes, and then he moved his lips on hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately, with such need that Scarlet found herself swept up in it almost instantly, so that she was kissing him back with fervor. Scarlet knew that the kiss had come from Tavian’s hurt, his need for something that wasn’t grief, but right then she did not mind. Right then, she wanted it as much as he did. Tavian began moving his hand along her waist, while Scarlet found her hands roaming Tavian’s muscular chest.
She had never had a man cry on her before. Her heart reached out to the handsome gypsy man, wanting to soothe away his pain. Despite her attraction to Cruces, Scarlet felt drawn to Tavian, too. He was sensitive, romantic, and straightforward with her. She couldn’t help wanting more with him, as their kiss grew stronger, more demanding.
Perhaps that was why neither of them noticed the figure approaching through the darkness until the last second, when Scarlet caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. Acting on instinct, she shoved Tavian aside, then rolled clear, just as Rothschild’s fangs struck in the space where Tavian had been kneeling.
The vampire looked at the gypsy man with something approaching fury in his eyes.
“She still has my mark on her, changeling. I can sense where she is, feel what she feels. She is mine. Not yours, mine.”
Scarlet stood, placing herself between the two of them. “I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone! You think you can come here and make some kind of claim to me when you have murdered Tavian’s sister? Is that what happens to women who get close to you, Rothschild?”
Rothschild looked down at Cecilia’s still form and smiled. “Murdered? For a murder, I think you’ll find that there has to be a death.”
He was still smiling when Cecilia took a rasping breath, gasping as she tried to get air into her lungs, her back arcing with the strain of it.
“Impossible.” The word was out before Scarlet could stop it.
“Fewer things are impossible than you might think,” Rothschild countered, “and the fey are far from easy to kill. Trust me, I have tried. Without the Devices, it tends not to take. Have you started looking for them yet? You’ll need them to get to Gordon and Holmes, remember.”
“You’ve come here, now, for that?” Scarlet demanded. In an instant, she had her dagger out. “Well, at least we know that this will kill vampires.”
She slashed at Rothschild. He moved back, and the cut missed. The thrust that followed it cut through his clothing, but appeared to miss flesh. Scarlet lunged then, and perhaps she did it carelessly, because in an instant Rothschild was behind her, one hand forcing the arm that held the dagger out to the side while the other was wrapped around her waist.
“Tell me Scarlet, do you feel what there is between us?”
“The only thing I feel right now,” Scarlet replied, “is the urge to kill you.”
“Oh, Scarlet, you have no poetry in your soul. There is something electric between us. Why else do you think I waited for Darthmoor to be gone? I’ve come to fetch you.”
Rothschild was pressed tightly to her, and Scarlet could not get free, despite squirming in his grip.
“You are either making fun of me,” Scarlet declared, “or you are insane.”
“No,” Rothschild replied, his grip on Scarlet not loosening in the slightest. “I need you. At the very least, I need you to guide me to the other devices. Believe me, Scarlet, you would prefer that it was me rather than one of the other members of the Order.”
“Really?” Scarlet snapped back. “Because right now, it really does not feel that way.”
“You saw Elder.”
“I killed Elder,” Scarlet countered.
Rothschild laughed then. “Do you think you can kill all of them? You cannot. And if you keep going on the path you are on, you will find yourself hunted by them. They will do things to you that will make you wish you had gone with me. At least with me, you will be safe.”
“Safe?” Scarlet kicked back with her heel. It made no difference. “You think I would ever trust you? You are trying to use me the way you used Cecilia, and look what happened to her.”
Cecilia was still on the ground, pulling herself slowly to a sitting position. There was no sign of the damage Rothschild had done to her, but she rubbed her neck nonetheless.
