“Ah, but what if you flip the story around? What if Lucy lies dying of consumption, and her doting suitor discovers a sip of vampire blood will cure all her ills? What if he begs help from a doctor friend and they pursue the panacea at all costs, but are refused and the beloved wife dies? The lover might retire, his heart broken, but the doctor might be unable to let the idea of a universal cure go. He might make of himself a hunter, perhaps the best in all the world.”
Margrit lifted her hands to her temples, massaging.
A burst of sympathy filled Alban and he stepped forward to touch her shoulder.
She dropped her hands and stared at the ceiling before exhaling heavily. “Yeah, okay, I guess he might just. I mean, all the other stories are turned on their ears. So what happened?”
Janx shrugged. “Eliseo determined retreat was the better part of valor, and fled. Shortly thereafter he met Vanessa, and you know the rest.”
Margrit laughed, short, sharp sound, and turned a despairing look on Alban. “That’s so far from the truth I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Why are we still here?” Kate demanded with what struck Alban as very human impatience. “Even if Daisani can’t do anything to this Chelsea person, shouldn’t we still be going after him? What if you’re wrong?”
Janx sniffed. “I’m rarely wrong, Katherine. And there’s no haste, because it’s not possible to catch up with him. Your sister might have, but as for the rest of us, we may as well wait for him to come to a stop.”
“Wherever that may be,” Kate said sourly.
“Most of us do have somewhere we call home.” Janx gave Margrit a telling look. “Unless it’s been stripped of us, of course. Either way, I have very little fear for our friendly neighborhood bookseller.”
Margrit glowered at the dragon. “Chelsea told me to ask about the bodies when I asked if Eliseo had any vulnerabilities. I’d think you’d be just a little bit interested in what the answer was. If you’re not, that’s fine. I won’t pursue it, but you’ll release me from this promise, no holds barred. I leave Daisani alone, he retains his empire, and you don’t go after Tony. I’m going to check on Chelsea. Come or don’t, but make your choice, dragonlord. I’m sick of this.”
Janx said, “I liked it better when she was afraid of us,” to Alban, then bowed melodramatically to Margrit. “Very well. I’ll chase your wild goose.”
Kate and Janx walked ahead, red-haired vanguards of a tiny army. Margrit itched to turn to Alban and plead for him to take her and take wing. They’d left the tunnels as close to Chelsea’s bookstore as any of them knew how, but the intervening blocks could have been swept away under a few beats of Alban’s wings. The idea of a few minutes of time alone in the sky with him was as appealing as making certain of Chelsea’s safety that much more quickly. But neither Janx nor Kate could transform as discreetly as Alban, and with Janx’s grudging agreement to join them, Margrit was reluctant to now leave him behind.
“Did I do this?” Her voice sounded wrong to her own ears, too soft and high. Alban looked down, concern creasing his forehead, and she fluttered a hand at the pair in front of them; at the world. “Did I make your world this place where we’re all running around trying to stab each other in the back before someone else gets a chance?”
“You had help,” Alban said with a ghost of humor.
Margrit twisted a smile. “I feel so much better, then.”
“Even my people have come to believe this is necessary, Margrit. Even I have. Not the politics and machinations, but a forcible entry into the modern age. Perhaps the one doesn’t come without the other. Everything has a price.”
“I hope it’s worth it.” Margrit’s phone rang and she clapped a hand against her hip, then pulled the phone from her pocket to say, “Hello?”
Kaimana Kaaiai’s easygoing voice came across the line, sounding, as usual, as though he had a smile in place. “Margrit Knight. Cara asked me to contact you. She seems to think you have another trick up your sleeve.”
Margrit stopped walking and scowled at the sky, lips thinned as she considered what to say. After a moment she shrugged and chose the truth. “I had one. It fell out.”
Some of the geniality fell out of the selkie lord’s voice. “Really. I was given to understand this trick would compensate us for a significant loss. I’m disappointed to hear it won’t be coming through. What, if I may ask, was it?”
“Does it matter?” The brusque question was just better than the ill-advised suggestion to suck it up that Margrit was tempted to give. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, especially if you’re back in Hawaii. It must be about four in the morning.”
“On the contrary, it’s seven in the evening. Nothing to worry about,” Kaimana assured her. “Will you be providing another form of recompense?”
Margrit pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. It was a moment before she trusted herself enough to say, “I’m afraid not,” politely. “It was a gamble. You lost. It happens.”
“It was your gamble, Ms. Knight.”
“‘Ms.’ You people always pull out the honorifics when you’re annoyed with me. You know what, Kaimana? If you really want to destroy your own people and the rest of the Old Races by taking it to the mat with the djinn, be my guest. Go be offended that you’re not getting your big fat paycheck and take it out on whomever you want. I have done my goddamned best, and if that’s the game you want to play, I wash my hands of it.” She hung up the phone and spun around, arm lifted to fling it against the nearest wall. Only the fact that it belonged to Cameron stopped her, and after a few seconds, she lowered her hand with a curse.
Alban’s quiet presence appeared behind her, more felt than heard. Margrit turned her profile to him, shoulders sagging. “Well, that was mature.”
“Perhaps it was necessary.” His warm hands enveloped her shoulders, sending a wave of comfort through her. She relaxed a little, leaning against him, and felt him lower his head over hers. “You’ve been thrust into a world about which you knew nothing, and have stood fast for what you’ve believed to be right, even at a personal cost. Perhaps, having shaken us up, it is as necessary to let us condemn or save ourselves of our own accord. I do not believe Kaimana Kaaiai will guide his people into open warfare with another of the Old Races. But if he does…we reap what we sow. Isn’t that the phrase you use?”
“Me personally or humans in general?” Margrit turned in Alban’s arms to bury her face against his chest and let go an exhausted sigh. “I feel as if there’s no way out of this alive, Alban. Janx is playing it like a cat with a mouse. It’s all fun and games, all light and mocking, but if I don’t manage to completely ruin Eliseo somehow, he’s going to kill Tony.”
A last vestige of hope was smothered with Alban’s nod. Dismay soured her laugh. “You were supposed to tell me that he wouldn’t really.”
“But he will,” Alban said steadily. “Human lives mean little to Janx, and Detective Pulcella has humiliated him. Had Janx not been injured so badly at the House of Cards, I doubt Tony would have survived the night. He’s been fortunate.”
“I’m not sure anybody involved with me is fortunate, right now. Russell’s dead, Tony’s under a death sentence, Daisani’s threatened to eat Cam more than once, my mother nearly had her heart pulled out…Jesus. If I thought leaving town would work, I’d do it.”
Alban, carefully, said, “Sarah did.”
Margrit shook her head. “Her situation was different, and you know it. I have to see this through. I’m not going to let Tony pay for my involvement with the Old Races.”
“You’re a worthy adversary, Margrit Knight.” Alban tipped her chin up, his pale eyes serious as he studied her. “Regardless of how lacking in control you may feel, I assure you that no one amongst the Old Races thinks you are anything but worthy. As much trust as you put in Janx’s integrity, if you hadn’t earned his respect, he wouldn’t have honored the favors you’ve played against each other.”
“Which is why I’ve got to hold up my end of the bargain. My own honor’s as much at stake as his is.” Margrit took a deep breath and released Alban, her whole body aching as the comfort of his presence withdrew. “I said humans were good at leveling the playing field. I have to keep trying to do that. This’ll end soon,” she added more softly. “Either I’ll succeed and this horrible mess will be over, or I’ll fail and I’ll be—”
“You will not.” Alban’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl.
“Janx’ll take Tony’s life over my dead body.”
