BLOOD

It wasn’t meant to last forever, this peaceful idyll. Remy had never been lucky enough for that.

It started with an abrupt change in weather two weeks into his stay—a roll of thick, dark clouds that enveloped the sky, extinguishing the pockets of sunlight that he was used to seeing on Fourth Court lands. Now thunder loomed from a distance, growing louder with every passing hour.

“We’ve got a trying few days before us,” Honfa reported gloomily. “There’s a heavy monsoon coming in from farther east. Judging from its size, I doubt we’ll be getting much sun for the next forty-eight hours at the least.”

“Is this a normal occurrence around these parts?” Remy asked.

“It is not,” Malekh said, voice terse. “This is court magic.”

Remy tensed. “They can control the bloody skies?”

“Ancients can. But Vasilik is not strong enough for this.”

“Put out as many torches as you can and shroud the castle in darkness,” Xiaodan ordered. “Best not to make us the only light for them to see by.”

Remy took a deep breath. “And you think they’re going to mount an attack?”

“The patches of sun were all that was stopping them from staging a frontal assault on us. Double the guards on duty. I don’t want anything near our walls without my knowing.”

The first day passed with little issue, though everyone was keyed up from waiting. Remy accustomed himself to quick catnaps to make up for the shorter bouts of sleep once night came, to store up his strength. He still had an ample supply of bloodwakers at his disposal, and they were all that was stopping him from returning to either Xiaodan or Malekh; he’d grown accustomed to feeding off them, albeit normally as foreplay rather than to enhance his strength. This new threat was enough to snap him out of his indulgences. Their blood was potent and addictive, and it was time he cut back.

So he downed his less-tasty bloodwakers, kept Breaker sharp and ready, and waited for the axe to fall.

On the second morning, he ambled into Malekh’s laboratory for his daily checkup, but the noble wasn’t at his usual position by the medical sequencer, nor by his fragile display of vials where he inspected blood and other more questionable liquids under glass. Instead, the man sat on a chair by the wall, head in his hands.

This was alarming to Remy. Malekh took pains to never show feelings, and certainly never to this degree of desolateness. “Something the matter?” he asked, resuming his usual perch by the sterile counter. “Couldn’t cure leprosy today?”

Muffled, stricken laughter erupted from somewhere between Malekh’s fingers. “Something the matter?” the noble echoed, raising his head. His eyes were bloodshot, stress straining at the sides of his eyes. His hair looked tussled and unkempt for the first time since Remy had known him—not even the fashionably mussed variety the man often sported, but a genuine rat’s nest that somehow still didn’t detract from his good looks.

And he looked murderous. Absolutely murderous.

“I’ve finished analyzing the various blood strains taken from the corpses at the Ministry of the Archives,” he said, “to confirm the same blood type present in them all.”

“Right. The one whose blood started all this.”

“It’s your blood, Remington.” Malekh was staring at him with cold, furious anger. “It’s your blood in all these samples.”

Remy did his own share of staring right back, still half-certain this was another one of the man’s unconventional jests. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve never infected anyone, if you don’t count my dry wit—”

And then the breath was knocked out of him in a heavy whoosh. He was shoved back several feet, Malekh still on him, and Remy hit the wall hard, ears ringing from the force.

The noble kept his arm pressed against Remy’s throat, letting him do little more than breathe shallowly. This was nearly a repeat of their first encounter, but this time there was no glint of desire in Malekh’s eyes, only rage at a perceived betrayal.

“Who put you up to this? Edgar Pendergast? Matthew Astonbury? Was this companionship a ruse to gain our confidence, to lay the Rot’s blame on Xiaodan and I?”

Malekh’s grip was starting to surpass being tolerably painful. “Let go of me,” Remy gasped out. “I didn’t do whatever the bloody fuck you think I did.”

“Zidan!” Xiaodan’s voice rang out. “What are you doing?”

Malekh stepped back, and Remy sank down to the floor, thankful the man hadn’t crushed his windpipe.

“Pendergast’s blood is in all these infected humans,” the Third Court king snarled out. “He’s the Rot’s carrier.”

Xiaodan shook her head, as bowdlerized as Remy felt. “Surely it must be someone else who shares the same blood type he does. I can’t imagine how—”

“I’ve perfected the process to identify a specific person through the unique properties in their blood, using the sequencer Ophelia gifted us. I am not mistaken in this. It’s Pendergast’s.”

“What’s my blood doing in them?” Remy wheezed out.

“That is exactly the question I intend to ask you,” Malekh snarled. “When we fought Vasilik at the caves, he said that you were involved. That you and the Alurians had orchestrated the whole thing, that you carried the Rot in your veins. I’d dismissed it as nothing more than an attempt to strain the ties between us, but now… Are you working with Vasilik, Pendergast? Did you do all this just to bring yourself more firmly into our confidence? Straight from his bed to ours?”

“Zidan!” Xiaodan gasped.

“How else would Vasilik have known what I would find? How else could your blood have gotten into the most virulent plague in these lands? You’ve acted as your father’s weapon for years. Did he send you here to spy on us? Or did Astonbury use the rivalry with your father as a cover, order you to earn our trust? Is this all a plan to weaken Aluria long enough to seize power from Ophelia? You’ve fucked people for information before, so what makes this any different—”

And this time it was Remy’s turn to fly at Malekh. For all his anger, the noble didn’t move to defend himself, and his punch landed solidly against the noble’s jaw.

“Stop it!” Xiaodan threw herself in between them, wrenching Remy away before he could deliver a second blow. “Zidan, do you really believe that Remy could have done this?”

“I couldn’t have!” Remy shouted. “My father’s a bastard through and through, but not even he would betray Aluria.”

“Other humans have risked more for lesser rewards.”

“Well, Remy isn’t just any other human.” Xiaodan raised her hands, pleading. “Are you telling me he’s capable of manufacturing everything that’s happened here? He was genuinely infected back at the Dà Lán. He could have died.”

“I planned nothing!” Remy exploded. “I’ve bled halfway to Elouve and back these last several years. It shouldn’t be hard for someone to find samples of my blood!”

Malekh set a different vial down on the table. “It took a much more thorough analysis to realize you already had the necessary antibodies to fight off the Rot. You had been exposed to it long before you ever left Elouve. You would have survived being bitten at the caves, and my serum would not have been necessary on you. I assumed that the swiftness of your recovery compared to those in Huixin and Laofong was due to your physical conditioning. But once I took a closer look—”

“Zidan—” Xiaodan began again.

“Give me one good explanation how this could have been done without him being a willing participant, Xiaodan.”

Xiaodan hesitated. “I can’t,” she whispered. “But there must be a reason. There has to be. Remy?”

“I don’t have it,” Remy said, desperate. “I don’t know what’s going on. The Reapers at the Archives often drew our blood to test for vampire bites and other sicknesses, given our line of work. I can’t tell you anything else, only that…” A spurt of insight. “They started drawing more blood from me over the years. Packets of it, said it was some new health protocol. They told me Astonbury had wanted more of my blood in particular. If it’s been Astonbury who was experimenting on these mutations, then that’s how he would have gotten mine.”

“Even if that is true, and we are to believe you when you say you have never worked with Vasilik, you cannot say the same about never having worked for your father, however you dislike him. From the moment we left Elouve, you have not been shy about demanding what my role within the Night Court was. Did he order you to seduce us for information?”

Remy couldn’t move. “He did,” he whispered, because he couldn’t lie to them. “But I never came to your chambers because of it. I—I wouldn’t—”

He watched Xiaodan’s face fall, her confidence in him finally wavering. The fury on Malekh’s was still plain to see, but so was his pain. “It was a mistake to bring you here,” he rasped. “It was a mistake to let you close to Xiaodan.”

“My lady!” Honfa burst through the door. “There’s a vampire at the—” He stuttered to a halt, noticing the tension. “Err,” he began again. “Milady. There’s an injured vampire at our gates.”

“One of Vasilik’s coven?”

“No. She claims to be of the Fifth Court—a former member of the Fifth Court, not this new coven of bo lan jiao hiding out at the Dà Lán—and she’s asking for sanctuary. Said she was ambushed by a large pack, which she claims is heading our way. Calls herself Lady Whittaker?”

“Elke?” Remy shouted, alarmed. “She was supposed to stay in Elouve!”

“Is this another trick, Pendergast?” Malekh demanded.

“I don’t even know why she’s here!”

“She said your father was attacked, Armiger,” Honfa said meekly, “and that she was faster than any carrier pigeon or messenger Aluria could think to send.”

Remy felt his knees wobble. “My father was attacked? Is he—?”

“Alegra scouted the perimeters and reported nothing else amiss, so unless they’re very well-hidden, I doubt she’s come here with an army of her own.”

“No sudden moves,” Malekh said, tone harsh. “Reach for that Breaker of yours, and I won’t hesitate to kill you where you stand. Do I make myself clear?”

Remy looked at him. It was as if the last couple of weeks hadn’t happened at all. “I understand,” he said quietly, because there was nothing else left to say.

---

ELKE WAS bleeding in the courtyard, her fire lance beside her. She was cradled in Alegra’s lap. Far from looking injured or in pain, she was looking up at the muscular woman with an expression bordering on infatuation. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met your acquaintance before,” she said.

“You arrived here only a few minutes ago,” Alegra said.

“Did I? How impolite of me.”

“Bloody hell, Elke,” Remy said, kneeling beside her. “If you wanted to visit, you should have sent word beforehand.”

“And spoil the surprise?” Relief lit up Elke’s face momentarily, though it eventually gave way to worry. “Remy, someone tried to kill your father at Loxley House last night. They think it might be the same person—people—who murdered Astonbury.”

“Is he—”

“He’s alive and unharmed. That great butler of his managed to chase the would-be assassin off, but I’m told that your father’s in shock. It can’t be good for his health. I set out here as soon as I learned everything I could. It would take a good three days for a competent pigeon to reach Qing-ye, and I figured I’d be faster.”

“You’re too good to me, Elke.” There was a dull ache in Remy’s chest. Edgar Pendergast wasn’t much of a father, but he was the only family he had left. “I need to return to Elouve.”

“I didn’t run all the way here just to drag you back. Something strange is going on with the Alurian court, and I believe your father is not the only target. If you return to Elouve, I’m convinced that there could be an attempt on your life, too.”

“Do you have proof of that?”

Slowly, Elke shook her head. “No. I have nothing to go by save for my instincts, though they’ve saved me too many times in the past for me not to listen. But you all have an even bigger problem at the moment. I believe Lady Song has a few hundred or so vampires squatting on her lands.”

“Oh, we very much do know about it,” Xiaodan muttered, but then promptly followed with, “Did you say a few hundred?”

“Maybe closer to two-thirds of a thousand, give or take. I saw a whole mess of them. Believe me, it’s not something you’d ever want to see when you’re traveling alone. I’ve never seen a horde of vampires standing so silently before. I’m fairly quick on my feet, but—” She gestured at her injuries. “One of them tried to help me before the others were alerted to my presence. Said I should keep going north if I knew what was good for me, because they’d commandeered everywhere else for miles. Took his advice because I didn’t have much choice, but it did bring me here.”

“A vampire?” Remy asked. “Nondescript face; shaggy, wheatyellow hair; and brown eyes?”

“You are acquainted?”

“You could say that.” The messenger who’d brought him to the caves had survived and was as helpful as always.

Malekh gestured, and Honfa hurried forward with a map in his hands. “Show me where you encountered them.”

“Lower down this gorge behind your castle. I’ve never seen so many in a coven in one place before that weren’t court vampires. Most of them didn’t even look like kindred. They were… odd.” Elke scrutinized the chart carefully, then pointed her finger, running it across the bottom of the large cliff behind Chànggē Shuĭ. “This area,” she said. “I recognize the woods they were milling around at.”

“We’re defending the wrong side,” Malekh affirmed grimly. “They intend to scale up the waterfall from the opposite end and attack us from behind.”

“There’s nothing up there but the lake!” Xiaodan exclaimed. “They would have to swim through it, then jump off the falls to reach us! Newly turned vampires won’t have the endurance for such a—”

“If Vasilik has nearly a thousand forces at his command, then he wouldn’t care about the losses. Particularly if many of his followers are the Rot-infected who would not protest traveling twenty miles underwater just to strike at our weakest point. He had reason to be so smug—he has far more vampires than he was willing to reveal. Not even a dozen of us, against that army. Gideon, Alegra, we need to shore up the rear immediately.”

“How could he have hidden nearly a thousand vampires and infected?” Xiaodan was visibly shaken.

“Vasilik?” Elke sat up, true fear now on her face. “He’s still alive? You haven’t killed him yet?”

“Yes,” Malekh said curtly. “And if you’re lying to us, Whittaker—”

“She isn’t,” Xiaodan said. “She hated Vasilik even when the Fifth Court was thriving. She would never ally herself with him.”

“Like bloody hell I would,” Elke said with a shudder.

“I want two people keeping an eye on the forests in the north. Everyone else get out the pitches and line them along the rear of the castle. We’ll burn the falls if we have to. The more we can take out with them, the less we’ll have to fight.”

“Lady Whittaker,” Malekh said brusquely. “If you intend to leave before they attack, I would suggest doing so now. I’ve asked Malira to prepare the helhests and a carriage to send you back to Elouve. It may take longer than your journey to the palace had, but it would give you ample time to recuperate. You will not want to be here when they come.”

“My wounds are not so severe as that, milord.”

“Even so, you would find it strenuous to bring Pendergast with you on foot. The ride should take four days, six if you stop at night. There is a farmstead two miles from Elouve that we use to stable the stallions. They should be in good hands there.”

The other vampires shifted uncomfortably. “Remy’s leaving?” Honfa asked, turning to Xiaodan. But the woman only bit her lip, bowed her head.

“But why?” Naji demanded. “If we’re about to be attacked, he could help our defenses with—”

“You’ve wanted him to leave since the day he arrived at Chànggē Shuĭ,” Malekh said coolly. “Why change your mind now?”

Naji looked chastened. “I simply don’t understand why you’re making such a hasty decision.”

“There is nothing to question. His sire is ill.”

“What exactly are you saying?” Remy snapped.

Malekh turned to him then. The cold rage hadn’t left the noble, but what was new was the suspicion in his eyes, the look of mistrust that hit Remy like a stab to the gut. “I think it would be best if you returned to your father and see to his whims as you’ve always done, Pendergast. You’ve outlived your welcome here.”

---

“YOU THREE were on much better terms when you’d left the capital,” Elke said as the carriage sped on. “Care to enlighten me?”

Remy stared out the window. “It’s nothing,” he said shortly.

“Lady Song had to fight to convince Queen Ophelia to let you accompany them back to Qing-ye, and now she lets you leave without another word? Did you at least find something new regarding the First Court?”

“Not quite.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I’m heading back to Elouve because Father is unwell. Wasn’t that why you came all the way here to warn me?”

“I came because I was worried that you might want to return without my convincing you otherwise. There are strange whisperings in Elouve. The Reapers tried to quash the preachers calling for hell’s damnation, but it only makes those unhinged sots the victims in the people’s eyes. I didn’t want to say so in the others’ presence, but there’s a growing resentment against the Queen’s court for the alliance with the kindred. The priests were spinning the deaths at the Archives as a new conspiracy. Saying Lady Song and Lord Malekh had created the undead plague, forcibly turning people to fight in their war. But even without all that, the Remy I know would have stayed to fight with the Fourth Court.”

Remy kept silent. The rain came down harder.

“Lady Song and Lord Malekh need us. Your father is unharmed, and he’s no sicker than he was when you left. It’s not like you’re a doctor specializing in whatever he has, that your constant presence is required at his bedside. Look.”

Elke fished out a newly reworked knifechain. “I made it tougher and more durable, added six more feet to the links because you said you wanted more range. I replaced the thinner blades with the round spikes you wanted. I would have thought you’d prefer to test it out here first. I’d even brought my fire lance, with some of the new and improved adjustments to the lightning specifications you’re so admiring of, to help.”

“Thank you, but that’s no longer my choice to make,” Remy said bitterly, accepting the gift. “As you said, it’s not like they asked me to stay. They think I’m responsible for the Rot.”

“What? How?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Seems like we’ve got a lot of time for that.”

Remy turned his head and stared back in the direction of Chànggē Shuĭ; at the speed they were going, it had already disappeared into the distance. “They’re going to die,” he said. Perhaps not Malekh, because the bastard always came out on top. But Xiaodan could not handle so many of those vampires without it putting a strain on her heart. And then there was Alegra and Gideon and Naji and everyone else.

It wasn’t like he could fight a thousand vampires all by himself, either. His presence wouldn’t be enough to stem the flow of that particular tide. If Malekh was right in his findings, and the arse always was, then his small consolation was that he would be safe from the Rot….

“What are you doing?” Elke gasped, when Remy stuck his head out of the carriage, heedless of their speed.

“Hey!” Remy yelled at the galloping helhests. “Peanut! Biscuit! No, wait—Caramel? Scone? Cookie! Peanut and Cookie! Heel!”

The helhests were ignoring him, so Remy gritted his teeth and shoved himself out of the window, clinging to the roof of the carriage for dear life as he angled forward and braced his body against the edges. He slid forward, nearly slipped from the wetness and missed the perch, righted himself up in time, and grabbed at the reins. One good tug sent the horses into a startled halt, though it also nearly sent him flying forward over their heads.

The undead stallions nickered, then looked curiously back at him.

“We’re not going to Elouve,” Remy told them, more certain now with every word he said. “We’re going back to the eastern palace, and then we’re going to help your family fight, and I don’t give a shit what Malekh thinks about that.”

The horses whinnied and were compliant as Remy turned them around. “Do you remember what those vampires you’d seen looked like?” he asked Elke.

The vampire frowned. “Others seemed far too young to have been vampires for long. The rest moved sluggishly. Are they mutations? They still looked remarkably humanlike. I don’t expect any vampires under Vasilik to be particularly stimulating at conversation, but most of them were just… standing around. They weren’t even talking, just gazing blankly at nothing. The coven youngbloods were the noisy ones. I didn’t have time to think much about it because they spotted me soon after that.” Elke’s mouth fell open. “Ah, were they infected? Then how are they being controlled?”

“That’s a question someone smarter than me is going to have to answer. But right now…” Remy gave a quick flick at the reins, and the horses began to move again, this time back to Chànggē Shuĭ. “I’m going to help them. You’re right, Elke. I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

The helhests were back to full speed. “I still could have reined them in myself, you know.” Elke said. “That was far too risky of you to do.”

“You’re injured.”

“I’ve got some scrapes and bruises, but nothing that would immobilize me. I was just hamming it up back at the palace. Otherwise that gorgeous warrior with the frown and the pretty hair would never have given me the time of day. And, meaning no offense—as capable as you are, you were never this nimble before you left Elouve.”

“Being their familiar has given me some unexpected attributes.”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” Elke’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is it Lady Song? Or… Lord Malekh?”

Remy cleared his throat, pushed the horses to go faster so he could pretend to ignore Elke’s gleeful shout.

“You tupped them both? Remington Adrian Pendergast, you sly dog!”