Chapter 16
Cillian
I can’t decide whether I am disappointed or relieved that I lost the hunt. Relieved that I didn’t have to kill Niamh, certainly, and I hope that the Bean Nighe is correct and she’s reached St Marnox. Once I’ve dealt with Vittoria, I’ll call and check.
By the time I’m on my way back to Glasgow, I want nothing more than to sleep and figure this all out when I’m rested.
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
What started off last night as an engagement celebration has turned into a disaster.
A human killing Kin? It’s happened in the past, but not for decades, and I can’t believe Niamh is the one who committed murder.
As soon as I’ve delivered Vittoria the heart, I’ll figure out what to do about Niamh.
The metallic smell of blood and musty earth fills the car as questions run through my head.
How the hell did Niamh get to St Marnox?
The Bean Nighe claimed it wasn’t through her, so who?
There was magic behind the stag and the mist tonight.
I need to find out whose magic it was and work out why they are doing this.
What’s so special about Niamh? And why have they enabled her to find sanctuary in the Underworld?
I keep my speed legal and an eye out for the polis, explaining why I’ve been deer hunting in an Armani suit is not something I want to get into, and I’m too exhausted for my magic to be reliable.
Dealing with the carcass, however, at least served one purpose – to help rid me of some of the frustrated desire still coursing through my veins.
I didn’t have to bury the deer, I could’ve left it to rot in the woods, but I didn’t want an animal missing its heart to make the news and for Vittoria to become suspicious of the gift I’m presenting to her.
My future as king is important now, more than ever.
The Glamour I’ve cast on the heart to make it look human should more than satisfy Vittoria.
I barely pass another car on the road into the city and stop off at Cernunnos.
Our housekeeper isn’t best pleased at being woken just after five a.m. – but her job is to sort out our problems, and right now cleaning my ruined suit is essential, and it gives me the opportunity to shower and change before I see Vittoria.
I detour into the city centre to check behind the Sussurri premises, making sure Vittoria’s security did their jobs, even if they did a piss-poor one inside the club last night.
They have, and there’s no sign of anything from last night, not even a single drop of blood on the cobbles.
Then I cross the Squinty Bridge, heading for Vittoria’s flat south of the river in Kingston, fighting my desperate need to go to St Marnox and see Niamh.
I tell myself I just want to make sure she’s okay, but I know my desire is much more primal than that.
By the time I pull into Vittoria’s visitor’s parking space, I’m ready to deceive my fiancée.
I have to be convincing, because one thing I am sure of is that if Vittoria realises that Niamh is still alive, she’ll not rest until she isn’t.
And even though Niamh should be safe within the walls of St Marnox, I’d be a fool to underestimate Vittoria’s vindictiveness.
I glance up at Vittoria’s flat. The bedroom light is off, but the one in the lounge is still on. Has she waited up for me? My thoughts have been so consumed by Niamh that I don’t remember whether I promised to come as soon as I got back or not.
Much as I don’t want to admit it, the events of tonight have only made me realise how much I’ve been denying my feelings.
How strong the pull towards Niamh Whyte really is.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want Niamh.
I was so close to taking her, I felt her desire and her fear, and now I’ve got a taste I want more.
I want everything from her. But no one argues with the Bean Nighe.
I’m furious that I lost the hunt, but like Niamh, I don’t want to die.
I ring the buzzer for Vittoria’s penthouse, knowing I need to play this carefully.
I look up at the camera, the realisation that neither of us has keys to each other’s homes summing up our relationship.
I’m buzzed in immediately, although when I reach the top floor, I wait longer than I expect at the main door and have lifted my fist to hammer on it, before it’s pulled open and I’m face to face with my fiancée, who is looking well-rested and coldly beautiful.
Before she’s even looked at me, her focus falls to the cool box I’m carrying.
‘You’ve showered?’ she asks, finally looking at me.
‘I stopped at Cernunnos. Didn’t think you’d want me showing up at your flat covered in blood.’
It takes an effort for me to keep my expression neutral in the face of the sick, twisted smile that curves her mouth, an ugly contrast to Niamh’s gentle smile, and an image of her fearful face replaces Vittoria’s almost immediately.
I rub my hand across my stubble, an unfamiliar response twisting my guts. I push it away. I never feel guilty.
‘That’s hers?’
‘You asked for a heart.’ It’s dangerous, sometimes fatal, to outright lie to any of the Kinfolk, but I don’t owe Vittoria the whole truth. Niamh’s life depends on it.
‘I did. Come in.’ Vittoria holds the door open for me, and I enter.
I spot my reflection in the antique mirror she has hanging in her hallway.
It’s out of character with the rest of the modern penthouse, but it’s such a piece of exquisite workmanship that the fact it doesn’t fit in here doesn’t really matter.
Vittoria leads me into the ultra-modern kitchen. The gleaming white and shiny stainless-steel surfaces contrast with the darkness of their owner. I hold out the cool box, and she claps her hands in delight before reaching for it.
‘Thank you!’ she says, her blood-red nails curling round the handle as I hand it over. I watch as she practically skips over to the sink.
‘Have you slept?’ I ask. Every muscle in my body is screaming for rest, while Vittoria is positively buzzing with energy.
‘Yes, I wasn’t sure how long you’d be,’ she says. She turns and smiles at me, but I can’t find it in myself to smile back. Her energy exhausts me further. Exhaustion is slowing my every movement, but there is no fucking way I’m sleeping here today. I’m not convinced I’d wake up in one piece.
‘What day is it?’ While I don’t think I spent long in the Underworld, it can be unpredictable how much time passes relatively between the worlds.
There are ways of controlling this, but they take focus and concentration.
Even the time spent talking to the Bean Nighe could have resulted in this not being Saturday morning as I expect.
‘Saturday.’ Vittoria frowns at me. ‘You’ve been to the Underworld?’
‘Yes, but not intentionally,’ I reply. ‘But someone seems determined to fuck me over this weekend.’
‘Aww, poor darling,’ she pouts. Thankfully, her attentions return to the cool box, any concern about my evening and the hunt long gone. She doesn’t even ask me how I killed Niamh, her sole focus is on the fact I delivered the prize to her, not the lengths I went to to get it.
She places the cooler in the sink and opens it, then peers in and … giggles. It might be the first time I’ve ever heard her do that. It sounds anything but amusing.
‘It’s bigger than I thought it would be,’ she says.
‘You’ve seen a lot of human hearts?’
‘A few,’ she confesses, lifting it out of the cool box and holding it up in both hands to admire. ‘But none as pretty as this one.’
I watch as brilliant-red blood oozes from the heart down Vittoria’s arms, the sticky liquid coating her hands as she cradles the organ.
She runs a taloned finger over the surface, tracing the outline of it.
I hide my emotions as she beams at her prize.
Where smiling implies joy, her features show evil. A dark, stagnant evil.
‘Goodbye, Fairest,’ she says with glee as she dumps it unceremoniously in the sink.
Blood drips from her fingers, and she turns and cups my face, smearing blood over both my cheeks.
Leaning in, she pulls me towards her, kissing me deeply.
The feeling of her tongue entering my mouth and the smell of the metallic blood has my insides churning.
‘Fuck’s sake, Vittoria. The blood,’ I say, pushing her away. She pouts and turns back to the sink.
‘Actually,’ she says, eyeing the heart with sickening glee, ‘I might keep it instead. The end of an era, so to speak.’
‘The end of an era?’ I query, as I search for something to clean the blood off my face, concern that Vittoria suspects more than I think she does begins to gnaw at me.
She doesn’t face me, but shrugs.
‘She appeared in our lives just as everything turned to shit, Cillian. Consider it symbolic. And maybe it’ll stop you being so distracted.’
‘Distracted?’
Now she turns, her expression way too innocent, and a chill runs right the way down my spine. Has she fucking known all along?
‘Surely this will be a wake-up call for Rose? That it’s time for her to fully support her family.’
I pray to the old gods that that’s all she means.
‘I’ll find a suitable container,’ she says, pulling open the door to a cupboard. ‘Then I’ll ask around, find out the best way to preserve it. For posterity.’
I shake my head and frown. I’d much rather she disposed of the evidence now. ‘Why?’
‘If it wasn’t for her…’ She trails off, shaking her head as she slams a box on the counter and lifts the heart out of the sink into it, seals it, then stores it in the fridge.
I stare into the sink as she throws a tiny piece of stray flesh into the waste disposal and presses the power switch, smearing blood over it as she does so.
I flinch – the grinding loud in the morning stillness.
Vittoria stares gleefully as the little piece gets pulled into the machinery.