Long Live the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (9 page)

Still, I had to try.

Could I stop her if she decided to go? I’d only known about being a goblin for a few months, and I still had yet to realise
just what I was capable of. I was strong – very strong – and a good fighter, but was I better than Vex? Could I hold my own with William? I hadn’t really tested either question. I would have to be at least Vex’s equal to survive a scrap with my feral twin – William’s if I wanted to subdue her.

I reckoned I ought to figure that out just in case. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this was going to end well. Too many people were going to want her dead, on both the human and aristo sides. She was simply too dangerous – a child with a monster’s urges, and the strength to act on them and no moral code to stop her. Even if I could help her, she was freak enough to go through the rest of her life with a target on her back.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” she asked.

Would I feel so much for her if she didn’t have my face? Would I want to protect her if I didn’t feel a freak-to-freak kinship with her? It didn’t really matter. I was going to help her – if I could.

“A little.” Such a gross understatement. “But you didn’t know you were doing anything bad.”

“I hurt your friend.” She wrapped her arms around the knees bent to her chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I was scared and hungry. I thought he was going to hurt me like he hurt the vampires.”

Right. She would have seen Vex and the others brutally attack the only guardians she’d ever known. How could she not react to that?

I massaged conditioner into her hair. What a tangled mess it was. “It was right of you to protect your loved ones.”

She tilted her head to glance at me. “I didn’t love them. They fed me, taught me, but they didn’t love me. They
punished me for trying to eat the meat they brought. They said it was special and I couldn’t have it. It was
infected
. What does that mean?”

Infected? With what? “It means sick. The mea—the person wasn’t well.”

She made a face. “Ew. The others were sick too. I wouldn’t want to eat them.”

“Others?”

“Other meats.”

Had they tried to feed her diseased humans? No, because she said she wouldn’t want to eat them. “What was wrong with them?”

My furry twin looked at me as though I was the one born only three weeks ago. “They were sick.”

Served me right for asking. How could I expect her to know the answer? But it was something worth bringing up with Vex.

“How much do you normally eat in one day, Ali?” I was all polite interest as I gently worked the tangles out of her hair with a comb.

She shrugged. “It depended on who fed me. Some gave me more than others – I was quite hungry.”

“Take a guess.”

“Maybe one and a half.”

“Meals?”

She blinked. “Bodies.”

Fang me, that was a lot of meat. Where were her handlers getting it all?

At least that answered my earlier question about how many there were like her out there. There couldn’t be too many – any – if they all ate like her. That many missing people attracted attention, and humans being the viable food source
they were, most aristos wanted to keep them quiet and complacent.

“You’re going to be eating less from now on,” I told her. “You can’t kill someone whenever you’re hungry.”

An angry pout was my reward. “Why not?”

“Because humans call that murder and they will want to punish you for it.”

The pout turned to a threatening scowl. “Then I’ll eat them too.”

“They’ll kill you.” No point in sugar-coating it

“Humans?” She snorted. “They’ll never catch me.”

I rinsed the conditioner from her hair. “Sweetie, humans are only one group. There are those among the aristocrats who would hurt you as well.”

“They won’t catch me either. My makers made certain.” It was such a cheerfully ominous statement that it sent a shiver down my spine.

“What did your makers do?” It certainly had nothing to do with scent, because I now knew hers as well as she knew mine.

The bones of her face shifted. Startled, I jumped back, almost knocking over my chair. I watched as her face changed – as her entire form shifted, melted and then came back together with terrible slipping and cracking noises.

She went from a double of me to a double of Rye, then to someone I didn’t recognise, then to William, and then she morphed into a face I couldn’t stand to see on another’s body.

Dede. She turned into a perfect copy of my poor mad baby sister, right down to her copper hair. She rose out of the tub, and stood there naked and dripping, holding her arms out to her sides. “See? I can be anything.”

“Change,” I commanded between clenched teeth. Any fear
of what she was capable of disappeared as rage overtook me. How had she done that? It would be impossible to use DNA from that many people, wouldn’t it? Was she able to copy anyone she’d seen? Smelled? It didn’t matter. She could run around with my face, which I assumed was her default, but Dede was not an option.

She tilted her head, regarding me curiously.

My goblin rose up inside me. I felt the bones of my own face shift as I took on a more feral countenance. “I said, change your fucking face. You don’t ever wear
her
face!”

Abruptly she dropped back into the water, drawing arms and legs around herself in an almost protective manner. I watched as she cowered, hair returning to my barley-sugar red. The tips of her canine ears bowed.

“I’m sorry,” came her tiny voice.

I was such a bitch. Sighing, I forced myself to return to my own normal form before I crouched beside the tub. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know why I got angry?”

She shook her head, but didn’t raise it.

I stroked her wet hair. She must be getting chilled. “That face – that person you became – was my sister Dede. She was murdered a few months ago. It hurt very badly to see you look like her.”

Green eyes peered at me from between the damp strands of her hair. Wider and more gullible than I hoped my own had ever been. “Someone killed her?”

I nodded. Just thinking of Dede hurt more than I could put into words. She was my baby sister, a fragile little thing that I’d loved as much as I could love anyone. Churchill had killed her just to hurt me. “Please don’t become her again.”

“I won’t.”

I forced a smile. It wasn’t her fault. “How are you able to change like that?”

She shrugged. “I just do it. At home they would show me pictures and tell me to become whatever I saw, and then I would.”

Scary. I would probably be much more scared if I wasn’t so angry. No, furious. Consumed by rage. Why had they shown her photos of Dede? And how pathetic was it that she referred to a laboratory as “home”?

“Come on, let’s get you dried off and into some clean clothes.”

She stood up as I fetched a towel from a rack in front of the fire. As I wrapped it around her, she twined her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll never look like Aunt Dede again.”

I frowned. “
Aunt
Dede?”

Ali pulled back enough to look me dead in the eye. She smiled slightly – hesitantly, as though she was afraid of me, which was a joke. “Of course she would be my aunt. You’re my mother.”

Fuck
. There was no other response lying about in the great blank chasm of my brain.

“I’m not your mother, Ali. Not in the proper sense.” Bloody hell, I could barely look after myself, let alone offspring.

She looked crestfallen. “You’re not?” I knew that expression. I’d worn it enough myself. It was the look of someone who thought she knew the truth about herself, only to find she was wrong.

That she was alone.

Had the bastards who made her not taken any sort of responsibility? Did they think she’d just appear and know immediately how the world worked? They’d thrown words and concepts at her, but no meanings and certainly no consequences.

If she’d been brought about using the eggs taken from me
in the Tower, then technically – genetically – she
was
my daughter. Who was her father?

“No.” I didn’t bother trying to explain, because I thought it would only complicate things even more – for both of us.

She cocked her head. “Can I be your sister, then?”

That was a knife to the heart. “Sure,” I rasped around the lump in my throat. “Sisters.”

A smile as bright as the noonday sun spread across her face. Her teeth were white and pointed – like a wolf’s. She really was the oddest little murderous hybrid. I wanted to protect and coddle her even though instinct told me to rip her throat out. “Yay!”

I smiled – it felt strained – and held out fresh clothes. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Fortunately she was fairly adept at dressing herself, and once she had the light ankle-length bloomers and long-sleeved shirt on, I took her back to her little cell.

“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked.

“At my own house.” At her stricken look I continued, “You’re safe here, and I’ll see you when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I pointed to the bed. “Go to sleep now.”

She crawled between the linen sheets without protest, pulling the wool blanket up to her ears. “Thanks, Xandra.”

At least the bastards had taught her manners.

I left word with young goblin George to notify me if anything happened, but I was fairly confident all would be fine. Ali would be safe here – and more importantly,
feel
safe here. And if she went hatters and managed to bust through the lock on her door, there were more than enough goblins to subdue her. She had a chamber pot and a little food and water. She’d be fine for several hours.

Bloody hell, I was exhausted, but I knew before I crossed the threshold into my house that sleep would be a long time coming. I knew it as soon as I caught a sniff of my visitors.

I walked in, down the hall and into the back kitchen/dining area. Normally it was gauche to have the dining room so close to the kitchen, but I liked it, and since I didn’t have a staff of servants, it made my life easier.

Sitting at the heavy, polished oak table that had been left behind in the house were William, my brother Val, and Vex, who had healed even more during our brief time apart that night.

“You look good,” I said.

He turned to me. One eye was still a little swollen and the wounds were still angry-looking scars, but he was beautiful to me. “I fed.”

“Ah.” Blood was important to all aristo races, but like goblins, weres tended to react better to meat. Human was preferable, but not necessary.

There was a bottle of Scotch from Vex’s distillery in Scotland on the table, and each of them had a glass. I got one for myself and sat down at the head of the table, pouring myself a glass so full it was vulgar. I took a healthy swallow.

“What brings you here, Fetch?” I used my brother’s family nickname in the hope of softening him up.

Val – Valentine – was a year older than me and a chief inspector at Scotland Yard, Special Branch. Of course Ali would be his case.

His green eyes narrowed – suspicion brought out our family resemblance. He looked tense and tired.

“You wouldn’t know anything about a hatters redhead running around eating people, would you?” He slid a photograph
towards me. It was a little grainy, but I could see it well enough. It was a creature who looked an awful lot like me, eating a man she’d just pulled out of the hole she’d made in his motor carriage. Victoria had been right – the man had been alive while she did it.

“I need a sandwich,” I said, about to get up.

Vex handed me a plate with cold cuts, cheese and bread on it. He knew me too well. He also knew when I was stalling. I didn’t want to do this, but whining about it was just so unattractive.

“Talk,” he instructed. Vex was not the sort of man to boss a woman about. He had a vast well of patience, and he was protective to a fault, but not in a possessive sort of way. Some might think he was too good to be true, but he wasn’t perfect; he was just old. He’d had over a century to develop patience and understanding, and a will of iron. If he was being curt with me, and telling me what to do, then there was probably a very good reason for it.

And I would no doubt do well to listen.

“No,” I replied. “I’ve nothing to say.”

“
Xandra
.”

“No, Vex.” I forced myself to meet his gaze, not because I was afraid, but because I needed him to understand. “Have you all conveniently forgotten what happens to people I involve in the melodrama that is my life? Simon was murdered. Dede was murdered. Val was kidnapped. Vex, you were attacked. I know I’m not responsible for these things, but they happened because of me. I’m not prepared to be that afraid for people I love, not again. None of you are getting involved in this.”

William looked at me, and I knew what he was thinking as
clearly as if he’d said it. If I was so concerned about my loved ones, why had I left a monster in the den?

Vex crossed his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Caring about us is all the more reason to include us. Dammit, we don’t want to lose you either.” Then his eyes flashed with gold. “She’s not a pet, sweetheart. She’s not a child. She’s not Dede.”

My heart squeezed tight. I opened my mouth to rail against him – to tell him to fuck right off – but closed it again. If I couldn’t even convince myself he was wrong, there was no point in arguing. “I know that.”

“You can’t save her.”

This was one of those times that I hated his age and wisdom. I also hated that he knew me so well. “I can try,” I protested weakly.

My wolf smiled slightly as he reached across and placed his hand over mine. The skin around his knuckles was still a little raw from his tango with Alexis. No, she certainly wasn’t Dede. If she had succeeded in killing Vex, would I be so sympathetic towards her? No. I’d want her head on a platter, regardless of the fact that we shared some genes.

“She killed someone very publicly.” He said this while looking deep into my eyes, as if trying to ram the point of this into my brain through my retinas. “Hiding her makes you an accomplice to that crime. That will make life very difficult not just for you, but for me, your goblins – who will be without a queen if you are incarcerated – and your family, a member of which is very much involved in the investigation. This is not just about you any more. This affects all of us.”