Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
“Best get to bed, Mr. MacPherson,” Genevieve said with a half-smile. “Jeremy comes on duty in a moment. I can smell the breakfast cooking.”
Robbie bowed from his place by the front door. “It was a marvelous ball, ma’am. Faith, I think every vampire in London came through the doors at one time or another.”
Not everyone, thankfully. “Any trouble?”
“A few humans, young bucks if you ken the type, tried to slip in here and there, but I gave them the boot,” Robbie said with a smile. “No other problems. Everyone departed in their carriages in good order ahead of the sun.”
“Thank you,” Genevieve said. Day would soon be upon them, and because of it, they had ended the ball much sooner than many human affairs that brought around carriages at dawn to cart away the partygoers.
The teeming house was now quiet and still, save for the muffled voices from the billiards room.
Kendrick and Salem were still awake and talking.
Ophelia had begged off early in the morning, saying she was still unused to nocturnal activities and had never been used to parties extending so far into the night.
She was asleep, almost certainly. The human staff members were just waking up.
And Genevieve was feeling warm and fuzzy, slowing as the sun rose closer to the horizon, still in her ballgown.
Ascending the stair to the now-deserted ballroom, she surveyed the scene with an air of surprised propriety.
The chalk designs on the ballroom floor had been blurred and trampled beyond recognition, but that was how it should be.
The floor had been packed with dancers, and though there had been no “refreshments,” she had received compliments on the décor, the gaming rooms set up with all manner of activities, and the music selection.
Monsieur Dupont had succeeded admirably as maestro and had played a wide variety of selections from various decades, which made even the starchiest and most disapproving vampires get up and dance when they recognized songs from their era.
It had been a fascinating thing to see the Montmorencys take to the floor with an agility and lightness that a casual observer would have found unbelievable.
She smiled in the silence and went around to make sure all the windows and drapes had been securely closed.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you disappear after Ophelia went to bed,” Kendrick told Salem, who was rolling an abandoned cigar contemplatively between his fingers.
Some vampires smoked—just about the only vice one could employ beyond blood—but Salem didn’t, and Kendrick had left that behind a century ago and had no desire to take it up again, especially with the English propensity for smoking harder substances like opium.
Opium made the blood taste like sludge, and opium users tended to be wasted and unhealthy.
They had designated the billiards room as the location for all vampires who wished to partake, and now the whole room smelled like an ashtray.
“I walked her back to our room and then came down like a good boy,” Salem said wryly. “But I didn’t care to be ogled anymore, so I stayed in the library. You’ve gotten some new books. Why behind glass, though? I know you love those historical books, but the children’s novels?”
“If you mean the books by a Mr. Anglesy, that is a pseudonym for Genevieve’s father, who wrote his adult books as E.D. Saxon.”
“Did he really?” Salem raised his eyebrows. “And then you marry the daughter. And her father is…”
“Dead, a year ago. But he left her a trunk of belongings, and I found it when I went back to Oxford. So that’s why the books are behind glass. Her father’s last gift to her.”
“Fascinating.” Salem spun the cigar between his fingers. “Well, did the end of the ball survive my absence?”
“It did. I think Genevieve is regarding it as something of a triumph.”
“And you’re not?”
“Well, I didn’t have to draw my sword once, which is both encouraging and also disappointing.”
“If you want to trade blows with someone, convince MacPherson to get fitted for a peg leg. You two can go at it with claymores.”
“There’s a thought,” Kendrick mused. “So why are you still up? The last revelers departed twenty minutes ago.”
“I wanted to catch you before dawn.” Salem pitched the cigar with pinpoint accuracy into the wastebasket. “I felt like I should apologize.”
“For what?”
“The state you found the Ossuary in. It feels like it was partially my fault. I killed Theron, after all, and paved the way for Rupert. I know it wasn’t in any way good before he took over, and I could not have fixed a broken system when I was broken myself.
But I wanted to apologize and ask what you need. ” Salem met his eyes squarely.
Kendrick extended his hand, and Salem clasped it.
“None of this was your fault, Salem. But thank you, my friend. We can use whatever help you can give. Genevieve has discussed starting a school for any vampires who are illiterate and has an idea for a twenty-four-hour circulation library, catering to humans by day and vampires by night. Either cause could use a book donation.”
“I could do that,” Salem agreed with a smile. He eyed the clock above the mantle. “I ought to take the dog out. Might as well take your lad’s dog as well,” Salem said, standing.
Kendrick waited for him while he whistled the dogs from the kitchen, where they were awaiting breakfast, and then followed him out into the garden behind the house.
Kendrick yawned as Blaze and Wulfric investigated the garden.
The sky was lightening, but true dawn would not be for another few minutes.
Genevieve had finished securing the far curtain and was looking forward to getting out of her gown’s trappings. But when she turned around, she was no longer alone in the ballroom.
“You didn’t invite me to the ball, Genevieve.” Laurent smiled at her, blood streaked across his mouth.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded, going cold at the sight and smell of the blood.
“Why, through the front door.”
Oh, no, Robbie—no, Jeremy! Her throat tightened. Her head felt sluggish. She had to stop him.
His face hardened, and he advanced on her.
She backed up and circled the room on instinct, trying to get closer to the door.
“You ruined everything,” he snarled. “You and Elspeth, but you’re the one who’s been whispering into ears and poisoning people against me.
I should have taught you your lessons better—should have ripped out every single one of your nails!
I should have plucked out both your eyes! ”
“Poisoning?” Genevieve demanded over the ringing in her ears. “I said nothing that was not true. Your own behavior condemns you!”
“You couldn’t be content with your lot in life. You had to go and change things!”
“Yes—Yes, I did!” Genevieve stopped and stood her ground. “Being controlled and belittled and abused is not anyone’s lot in life, and I will make sure it never is again! You’re never going to hurt me or make me feel small again.”
“I’m going to kill you!” he growled. “And then I’m going to kill every single human in this house and stain the floor with their blood.”
Genevieve saw a flicker of movement behind him. “No,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Laurent said. “That’s all they’re good for. You can’t protect them—and you shouldn’t. They’re sheep. That’s a—aarghh!” he yelled as his body jerked.
Behind him, Fletcher, practice foil thrust through the belt at his waist, held grimly to the hilt of the silver knife he had thrust into Laurent’s back. He had aimed at the heart—but the angle was wrong. He’d missed.
“Fletcher, run and get Kendrick!” Genevieve yelled. Then she smashed her fist into Laurent’s face.
She wasn’t a helpless human anymore. He could intimidate her all he liked—but she wasn’t fettered anymore. He had no power over her.
Laurent growled, trying to both stem the blood oozing from his nose and get a hand on the knife to pull it out. “You little—”
Fletcher pelted away just as Laurent got a hand on the knife and yanked it free. His skin sizzled as he dropped the silver. “Little brat—” he wheezed, blood splattering the floor.
“Leave him alone,” Genevieve snarled. “Pick on someone your own size.” She hit Laurent across the face again, staining her glove with his blood. Then she dived for the knife and scooped it up. She could feel the silver through her thin gloves, but she held it grimly.
She was free, and she was strong, and there was a house full of people who would come down on his head if she could just keep him distracted and angry enough not to run after Fletcher.
His bloodshot eyes focused on her with a snarl.
She backed up towards the wide ballroom floor, the knife held in front of her. “You think humans are worthless, but look what one boy did! You look down on vampires weaker than you, but Elspeth foiled you! You’re delusional, Laurent, if you think this will gain you anything.”
He gnashed his fangs, closing in on her. “It will gain me your blood in my teeth!”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Kendrick growled from the doorway.
“No more hiding in shadows, Laurent,” Kendrick declared, stepping into the room and raising his sword.
“No more sending others to do your death-deeds. Face me now, according to the traditions you claim to espouse. Face me in trial by combat, though by rights, such an honor should not be given to you.”
Kendrick and Genevieve’s people crowded in behind him, cutting off Laurent’s escape.
“I will not fight a usurper!” Laurent said, his eyes wildly darting for an exit.
He reached for Genevieve, as if to snatch her to him like a shield—but she sliced his arm with the silver dagger that had already tasted his blood and ran out of range, traveling along the edge of the room to reach her allies.
Laurent howled wordlessly in pain and outrage, and Kendrick felt a rush of pride.
All the blood in him had frozen when he had heard Fletcher’s urgent cries. Now he would deal with this tormenter who had hurt Genevieve and so many others—one way or another.
“I gained rulership of the Ossuary fairly. If you had wanted to challenge me, you should have done it in front of witnesses instead of conspiring like a coward. If you will not fight me, then I’ll kill you the way you deserve,” Kendrick said, advancing on him.
“No!” Laurent shrieked.
“Then will you fight?” Kendrick asked. “Fight or face the dawn. Those are your choices. Choose your end.”
Laurent licked his lips. “No weapons in trial by combat! Throw down your sword!”
Kendrick handed it off to Salem, hilt first. “Agreed.”
Genevieve reached him and seized his arm, her eyes wide. “Kendrick—”
“All will be well,” he said in a low voice.
She took his hand and kissed it.
Then Kendrick stepped forward to meet him.
Laurent would never willingly parley or pay weregild for those he had harmed. He had to be dealt with, here, now. But like all those who traded in fear, this vampire was a coward. Kendrick advanced on him as the household peered in the ballroom doors.
“Get him, guv!” Fletcher’s voice called as Laurent backed away.
“Are you going to stand and fight, or run like a dog?” Kendrick asked as Laurent continued to scuttle away from him. “For a man with a lot of big talk, you have no spine when the battle merits it.”
“You’ve turned them all against me,” Laurent hissed.
“Have I? Or have you done it yourself, by years of abuse and neglect? Years of oppression? Were they ever with you to begin with?”
“It’s the right of the strong to dominate those below them!”
“It is the right of every ruler to reach out to those sorely oppressed and save his people. You had twenty years to change your tune. Now we will have a new way.” Kendrick feinted for Laurent, who skipped backward.
He could end this here and now, but he wanted to see if Laurent would actually turn and fight.
“The truth is, Laurent,” Kendrick said, gesturing to the room, “even if by some chance you managed to strike me down, there are plenty here who would step in to end you. Your vision of darkness and tyranny has no place here. It never will again.”
Laurent’s face twisted in a mask of rage. “Then if I am to die, I’ll take all of you with me!” He lunged for the drapes in front of the windows and ripped them away.
And then, as Genevieve screamed, all Kendrick saw was light.