The Masked City (2 page)

Vale’s case must be important to warrant this sort of interference.

Kai noted the coils of the net, which had barely missed him, tangled on the street. It was a nasty piece of work, with metal woven into the ropes. Curious. Why go to this trouble to snare him personally? If they had already caught Vale, they would regret it.

He slammed an elbow backwards, feeling the jolt as it connected with a chin, and started forward at a swinging run. At least one of the men in front of him should back away …

He didn’t expect them to all come at him at once, like a sudden human tidal wave. He struck high for a throat, and then low to a groin - disabling blows. But they weren’t going down. They felt the pain, they grunted, they staggered, but they were still in his path.

A blow took him across the back of the head in a sudden burst of pain, and his attempted nerve-strike lost its force as he went down on one knee. He knew that he was a sitting target, but for that moment his muscles wouldn’t respond.

Another man hit him in the face. He spat blood.

A man behind him threw himself on top of Kai, bringing him down to the filthy pavement. Kai struggled for breath, sparks still dancing in his vision. He could feel pure fury running in his veins now. How dare these humans assault him like this?

There was no room in him for fear. It was not
possible
that this scum could win.

He felt his natural body assert itself, his hands becoming claws, scales beginning to trace their way across his skin, as his true nature rose with that fury. He would call up the river against them, he would scour them from this London, he would make them pay for this
insolence
.

Across London, he felt the Thames and all its tributaries stir in response to his anger. He might be the least and youngest of his father’s sons, but he was still a dragon of the royal house. With an uncoiling shove he thrust backwards, forcing the thug from his back and away, and pushed himself up, teeth bared in a snarl.

More bodies hit him and took him down, heavy hands pinning his wrists to the pavement. His claws left marks in it as he struggled for leverage. For the first time he felt a prickle of doubt. Perhaps it would be wiser to fully take on his true form, one that they could not possibly restrain. It would alert all London that a dragon walked in their midst, but if he should lose …

A hand snarled itself in his hair, pulling his head back, and he felt cold metal snap shut around his neck. And now abruptly there was the ferocious, electric tang of Fae magic in the air, locked around him,
binding
him. He cried out in sudden shock as the distant rivers faded and were gone from his senses, as his fingers, now purely human, scraped against the concrete.

‘That should do it.’ That cold voice was the first time that anyone had spoken during the whole attack, and it was the last thing Kai heard. There was one final blow to his head, and then he surrendered to unconsciousness.

CHAPTER ONE

The night before …

It was a pity about the poison in her wine glass, Irene reflected. The underground room was hot, and a glass of chilled wine would have been refreshing.

She hadn’t needed Kai’s murmur from behind her shoulder. She’d been watching the crow-masked man in the mirror. His real name was Charles Melancourt, and they’d both been hunting for the same book for the last few weeks. He was the agent for a Russian buyer. Irene was an agent for the Library. They’d both run into each other often enough while investigating the same sources, and he had certainly recognized her in spite of her mask, just as she had recognized him.

The bidding finished for the current item, a set of gold-plated dice with rubies as the points, and there was a gentle ripple of applause. Everyone was masked, even the waiters carrying round the trays of food and wine. This auction wasn’t exactly illegal, but it was certainly dubious. The patrons included eccentrics, the very rich and a large number of people who had lawyers just to prove how absolutely not guilty they were. (Of anything.) Ether-lamps burned on the walls, casting a white glare on the room. It made the beading on the expensive dresses and military decorations glitter as much as the items on auction. She’d recognized some of London’s Fae too, behind their masks. But Lord Silver, their unofficial leader, wasn’t present - a fact for which she was extremely grateful.

Irene had gained entrance with Vale’s help. It didn’t hurt to be a personal friend of London’s greatest detective. In return she’d promised to make sure that she and Kai were out of the place before midnight, before a scheduled police raid happened. A promise she intended to keep. She’d spent the last few months in this alternate world building a cover identity as a freelance translator, and having a criminal record would be inconvenient.

‘Next item,’ the auctioneer droned. ‘One copy of Abraham or “Bram” Stoker’s
La Sorciere
, based on the book of the same name by Jules Michelet. We are sure that our guests don’t need to be reminded that this book was banned by the British Government. And the Church denounced it on the grounds of public indecency and heresy. No doubt it’ll provide the buyer with something entertaining to read, ha-ha.’ Her laugh lacked anything resembling humour. ‘Sold as part of an anonymous estate. Bidding starts at one thousand pounds. Do I hear any bids?’

Irene raised her hand. So did Melancourt.

‘Lady in the black domino, one thousand pounds,’ the auctioneer intoned.

‘One thousand five hundred!’ Melancourt called out.

So he was going to go for big jumps, rather than take it up by stages. Fair enough. At least they seemed to be the only people interested in this lot. ‘Two thousand,’ Irene said clearly.

‘Two thousand five hundred!’ Melancourt declared.

That got a few whispers from the other bidders. The book was rare, but not hugely so. Certain museums had copies, so Irene was being comparatively virtuous in buying the tome at an underworld auction. She could have stolen it, after all. The thought made her smile. ‘Three thousand.’

‘Five thousand!’ The sudden jump in price made the room fall silent. People were looking at Irene to see what she would do.

Kai leaned over her shoulder. True to his cover as bodyguard, he’d been standing throughout, refusing food and drinks, and keeping watch on the carpet-bag with their assurance of payment. ‘We could let him win this, and then visit him later,’ he murmured.

‘Too risky,’ Irene whispered back. She picked up the glass of wine from the tray he was holding, raising it to her lips, and couldn’t mistake the sudden tension in Melancourt’s posture. Yes, this
had
been from him. She’d thought so.

‘Wine, boil,’
she murmured in the Language, and quickly set it down again as the glass heated up under her fingers. The wine was already bubbling, and it overflowed onto the tray, hissing and steaming as it evaporated. Kai’s hands tensed, but he held the tray steady.

The silence had deepened. Irene broke it. ‘Ten thousand,’ she said casually.

Melancourt brought his fist down on his thigh with a curse.

‘Do I hear any other bids?’ the auctioneer demanded, against a rising susurrus of whispers. ‘Ten thousand from the lady in the black domino, going once, going twice … sold! If you will come over to arrange payment with our staff, madam, thank you very much. The next item …’

Irene tuned out the next item, rising to her feet. Kai handed his tray to one of the waiters and picked up their carpet-bag, following her as she headed over to the payment desk. She kept a weather eye on Melancourt, but he was slumped in his seat, not trying anything dramatic. Men and women nodded to her with respect as she walked past, and she returned the gesture politely.

‘Your payment, ma’am?’ the man at the desk asked neutrally. He had several large, well-muscled men behind him to help reluctant customers cover their purchases. But they wouldn’t be needed this time.

Irene kept her smile faint as the desk clerk examined her synthetic diamonds with a jeweller’s glass, before closing the transaction and handing over the book. She’d obtained the gems from a Librarian working in a much more technologically advanced alternate, and they paid the bills nicely. Diamond production there was comparatively cheap, and all her colleague had wanted in exchange was a complete set of first-edition Voltaires from her world.

They made it to the door before Melancourt caught up with them. ‘I can make a deal,’ he said, his voice low but desperate. ‘If you would put me in touch with your principal—’

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible,’ Irene said. ‘I’m sorry, but the matter is closed. You will have to excuse me.’ She remembered she had a deadline - and it was ten-thirty already.

Melancourt’s lips drew into a thin line under his mask. ‘Don’t hold me responsible for what may happen,’ he spat. ‘And you will have to excuse me as well. I should be getting on my way.’ He barged ahead of the two of them, calling to a waiter for his coat and hat.

It was quarter to eleven by the time they were clear of the venue and no longer wearing their masks. The night was comparatively clear, and the ether-lamps showed every imperfection of the Soho streets. A few women loitered on street corners, but most of them were in the pubs or operating from indoors, and none of them tried approaching Kai and Irene. Melancourt was already out of sight.

‘Do you think he’ll try something?’ Kai asked, keeping his voice low.

‘Probably. Let’s head for Oxford Street. We should be safe enough, once we’re on the main road.’

As they headed in that direction, Irene considered how her life had changed in the last few months. Previously she’d been a roaming Librarian on assignment, hopping from one alternate world to another in order to collect books for the interdimensional Library she served. Now she had a steady base here as Librarian-in-Residence, an apprentice she respected, and even friends. World-travelling wasn’t the best way to keep friendships, especially when she had to spend half her time in disguise. But now she even had people on this world, like Vale, who knew what she was and accepted it.

And, to be honest about it, she was enjoying her work. It was
rewarding
to fulfil requests from the Library, and to do so promptly and efficiently. Providing unique books for the Library from a particular world helped stabilize the world itself too, balancing it between order and chaos by strengthening its link to the Library. But it was also, for want of a better word, exciting. Last month they’d had to sneak into an automaton-filled labyrinth under Edinburgh to rescue a copy of Elzsbeth Bathory’s lost
Regina Rosae
narrative. Today they’d slipped in and out of the auction without any trouble. (One little attempted poisoning was a minor detail.) Irene wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but it promised to be interesting.

‘Ah,’ Kai said in a tone of mild satisfaction as they turned the corner past a pub and onto a dark stretch of road. ‘Thought so. We’re being followed.’

Irene turned her head and caught a glimpse of two men behind them, at the turn of the street. ‘Good catch. Is it just those two?’

‘At least one more. I think they’re cutting round to intercept us, if we go through Berwick Street.’ Kai frowned. ‘What shall we do?’

‘Go through Berwick Street, of course,’ Irene said definitely. ‘How else are we going to find out what’s going on?’

Kai glanced sidelong at her, the ether-lamps forcing his profile into a sharp marble carving. His eyes were narrowed and dark in contrast. ‘You’ll let me handle it?’

‘I’ll let you take point,’ Irene said. ‘You distract them, I’ll tidy up.’

He gave a nod, accepting the order. She wasn’t going to demand to fight side by side with him in a street fight. He was a dragon, after all, and even in human form he could jump in the air and kick people in the head. And this London’s ankle-length skirts weren’t designed with jumping and kicking in mind.

Kai being a dragon was complicated. It made him a useful apprentice, with capabilities beyond the human norm, but it also meant that he came with his own share of attitudes and prejudices. He outright loathed the Fae as forces of chaos, which was awkward, given that they had a major presence on this world. And he carried himself with the hauteur of a dragon of royal blood, though he refused to go into details about his parentage. Irene was experienced enough to know that this could - no, probably
would
- mean trouble. But right here and now, he was excellent backup.