“I’m so sorry,” Vivienne said quietly, after Cyrus and Cassandane had gone off to bed and they sat alone in the library. “It’s my fault. I should have gone with Nathaniel—”
“Hush. It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“What if—”
“D’Ange uses the cuff?” Alec said icily. “I don’t know, Vivienne. I suppose we’ll deal with that if it happens.”
The light from the coal stove played across her high, regal forehead and generous mouth. Cassandane had given her a pair of trousers and a man’s shirt. Vivienne was tall but more slender and it seemed to swallow her up.
She was silent for a long moment. “Do you ever…. Ever wish you hadn’t—”
Alec rose and knelt beside her chair. He took her hand. “Vivienne,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “I don’t regret a single moment of the lifetimes I’ve had with you. And if he bonded me right now, it would still be worth it.”
She looked into his eyes and let out a soft breath. Then she reached for him. Alec pulled away.
Vivienne was on her third glass of palinka.
“I’ll make us some tea,” he said.
She laughed. “Tea? But that might sober me up.”
Alec stuck the bottle under his arm and stood. “I’ll be back.”
She sighed and lifted the walking stick. “Don’t you want your cane?”
Alec smiled. “I’ll need both hands for the tray.”
Vivienne leaned it against her chair and returned to staring out the windows at the unkempt garden beyond.
As Alec walked down to the kitchens, he thought again of Gabriel D’Ange. They hadn’t known each other long. He remembered only a man with polished manners and a humble air that concealed the monster beneath.
Alec puttered around the large kitchen, gathering the tea things. With his power trapped in the cuff, he had no fear of fire. It was strange to light the stove like a mortal, to bring the kettle to a boil himself, with no urge to seize the wild power of the flames and try to work them.
He didn’t know why daēvas couldn’t touch fire. Only that if he did, he would die.
He threw a handful of leaves into the teapot and filled it with steaming water. Then he added a saucer of cream, six sugar cubes and two chipped porcelain cups.
The wind howled along the slate roof as he made his way back to the library. Through the darkened windows, he could see the shapes of the trees swaying outside.
Vivienne is hanging by a thread, he thought. I’ll have to hide the palinka until we return to London.
She never, ever drank to excess, in part because she knew he despised the feeling of drunkenness, and he couldn’t really blame her for it now. He was almost tempted himself. But he didn’t want her that way, even if—
Alec was three paces down the hall when he was slammed with the skin-crawling sensation of something from the Dominion. He halted, head cocked. The house was quiet, the low wind the only sound.
Alec set the tea tray on the floor. One of the cups gently rattled against its saucer. He let out a slow breath and stood.
The corridor was dark with doors all the way down. Around the far corner, he could see a glint of light from the library. Alec started toward it, eyes flicking to either side, alert for any sign of movement. Most of the doors were closed, but a few stood open an inch or two, revealing a crack of darkness beyond.
Something was here, among them. The only question was whether he could find it before—
A shadow slithered out of the doorway on the left just ahead. It gave off cold waves of wrongness. The reek of the Dominion grew overwhelming. Alec caught a sudden flash of movement. Startled, he staggered back through the opposite door, tripping over something that crashed to the floor with a clatter like old bones. A quick look confirmed that the obstacle was exactly that, one of Cyrus’s bizarre skeletons. He collected anything outre — mermaids, giants, two-headed unicorns — and refused to listen when Alec told him they were fakes, glued together by charlatans.
Alec hopped over the bones, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the door. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating a diamond-patterned carpet and more strange outlines strung together with wire and wax. His gaze swept the room, searching for anything he could use as a weapon, but a creak snapped his attention back to the solid black rectangle that led into the hall.
Very slowly, a face moved into the moonlight. It had gleaming white skin and onyx eyes with no pupils.
A girl.
She’d been no more than twelve when the wight took her. She must have been pretty, with a perfect little bud of a mouth and wavy golden hair. Now the hair was dirty and snarled, and the mouth curled in a smile too old and cunning for the rest of her features.
“Daēva,” it hissed, holding out a hand tipped with black talons.
So it could talk. Not all of them did.
“Go back where you came from.” Alec’s throat felt too dry. He hated wights, especially the children.
She tilted her head and took a step forward.
Alec snatched up one of the skeletons and hurled it at her. She dropped to a crouch, tapping her nails on the floor. Rat-a-tat.
Rat-a-tat.
Wights weren’t especially strong, but they were bloody quick. If those nails opened an arterial vein, death would come swiftly.
Alec grabbed a standing lamp and used it to fend her off, steer her away from the doorway.
She feinted, but he saw it coming and swung, knocking her away.
She was back on her feet in an instant. Lunging, batting the lamp aside….
Another shadowy figure loomed in the doorway. He saw a flash of steel…. And Vivienne’s sword neatly claimed the wight’s head.
She rushed to Alec’s side, her face hard and sober. “Did it hurt you?”
He shook his head. “A few scratches, nothing more.”
Distant shouts drew them to the strong room.
Cassandane stood over two more dead wights. The heavy door had been smashed in, and Cyrus crouched among the mess inside. Half the glass cabinets were broken and his precious collection had been strewn across the floor.
Alec bit down and tasted blood. “The cross?” he asked tightly.
Cyrus scanned the wreckage, his face bleak. Then he frowned. “No, it’s there….”
He pointed. The cedarwood box lay on the floor. Alec picked it up and opened it. The rose cross still nestled in its velvet lining.
“We must have scared him off,” Cassandane said.
Cyrus was muttering to himself.
“Is anything else missing?” Vivienne asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve no idea. I’ll have to check everything against my records.”
“You can’t stay here,” she said gently. “This old heap. Just the two of you. It’s not safe.”
Cyrus rounded on her, his usually mild face ablaze with fury. “I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s been taken. Perhaps he wasn’t after the rose cross after all. I have all sort of things in here….” He trailed off, crawling over to a set of reed pipes and clutching them to his chest like an infant.
Vivienne shared a look with Alec. “We have to tell Sidgwick and Blackwood what’s happened. Launch a full inquiry. I want every resource they have bent on finding him. And if D’Ange wants to trade….” She glanced at the cedarwood box. “He seems to know where to find us.”
“First thing in the morning,” Alec agreed. He no longer sensed any danger within the walls of Ingress Abbey.
“I’ll take care of him,” Cassandane said, her eyes on Cyrus. “You go. Cable if anything happens.”
“Still think D’Ange is a harmless necromancer?” Alec snapped.
Cassandane gave him a level look. “I never said he was.”
He immediately felt stupid. “I’m sorry, Cass.”
She patted his arm. “Go get some sleep. I’ll keep a watch.”
“There’s another dead wight in the room with the skeletons,” Alec said, his gaze turning to the pair that lay headless in the hall. A man and woman. Likely the poor girl’s parents.
Cassandane gave a nod. “I’ll burn them all in the garden.”
He trudged upstairs with Vivienne. She paused before going to her own room.
“I saw the tea tray in the corridor,” she said softly. “The cups were all upright, neat as a pin.”
Alec tensed, but he couldn’t lie to her. Not his own bonded. “I sensed the wight, Viv. Before I saw it. Almost like a bad smell. It was the same in Gran Canaria with the men D’Ange sent … though not exactly. The reek of the Dominion wasn’t present. Only that they posed a threat.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think it’s because of what happened in New York?”
“I think so.”
She thought for a moment, then nodded. “Well, that’s good. It’s useful.”
Alec forced a smile. “Yes. Goodnight, Vivienne.”