10. Not Fair
NOT FAIR
Alex
The last thing I needed was a meeting with the Fair Duchess, Esmeralda, and bloody Knight.
But the day after we’d visited Lucy, Her Grace had asked to see us in Winterdale, the mansion close to Whitehall, which was considered neutral territory among the courts.
Its walls radiated magic so intense that our powers didn’t work, guaranteeing a more equal environment, meaning that, if we wanted to beat each other up, we had to be creative.
Knight greeted me with a curt nod of his head when I entered the library.
The shelves loaded with books and the heavy drapes blocked the light of the dying sun, for which I was grateful.
But I didn’t appreciate the large painting depicting the mediaeval Countess of Saragossa, the first known vampire slayer, stabbing a vampire in the chest.
Hunters were humans who acquired uncanny strength and speed by drinking a potion, or so the legend said. They were bent on killing wizards, vampires, werewolves, and even fairies. The countess had been one of them. I’d never met one so far.
With her flaming red cape and dark hair flapping around, the countess looked like an avenging angel.
Instead, the vampire appeared to be a monster with a distorted face, pointed ears, and claws. Annoyingly, the scent of blood wafted from the painting, and if I focused, I could hear the growls from the vampire and the war cry of the countess.
If the magic in the mansion didn’t suppress my vampire powers, my fangs would already be out.
“You aren’t alone.” Knight nodded at another painting where St. Patrick used a bow and a silver arrow to slay a werewolf in the act of leaping.
“Interesting how there aren’t scenes showing fairies being slaughtered.”
He clicked his tongue. “The hunters killed fairies as well. I find these paintings obscene.”
“They shouldn’t be here.”
The crackling of the fire filled the silence.
“News?” I asked Knight in a low tone.
He glanced at the set of double doors where two footmen were standing.
“Nothing. My werewolves and I patrolled the streets last night. We visited the gaming den where those men had been found dead. We didn’t catch any signs of a vampire.
Whoever he is, he’s damn fast and doesn’t leave traces. Not even his scent.”
“Which means he must be ancient.” I had to look away from his neck because the damn thirst reared its head at the sight of Knight’s thick veins. “What about Lucy?”
He shifted his weight and averted his gaze. “The same. No improvement.”
“You took a shine to her.”
He drew his eyebrows together. “Shut up.”
“Are you fifteen?” I chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“She’s a werewolf with no power and belongs to the Argos.” He sounded as if he were reciting a passage from a manual.
I snorted. “I see. Status and classes are important for werewolves. Like the toffs. Is it true that you converted her ducal palace into small flats?”
He flexed his fingers. “We didn’t have a choice. Yes, we subdivided the palace into small units to accommodate homeless families and veterans. I realise Lucy’s flat isn’t the best, but she accepted it with good grace and asked her brother not to make a fuss about it. I greatly appreciated that.”
A moment of silence stretched. A duke’s choices were never easy. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to take care of his pack.
“Why did you lie about Rothbart when we asked?” I asked, controlling my voice. While I was annoyed by the lie, Rothbart was terrifying enough to force good people to do bad things.
“I didn’t lie.” He shifted his weight.
“You said you didn’t know him.”
“And I don’t.” He turned his back on St. Patrick.
“I’ve heard about him and his cruelty, but I didn’t live in Whitechapel, nor did I control the Moon Court when he was around.
I wanted to gather more information about him before saying anything.
I already have too many enemies, and even among supposed allies, I’m not popular.
” He clenched his jaw, maybe realising he’d said too much.
“Being a duke isn’t easy. You became the moon duke through a war, as I did. One can’t expect to conquer power by force without making a few enemies.”
He was about to add something else when Esmeralda entered. The footmen shut the doors behind her and left.
“Ravenhill. Knight. Good evening.”
Emerald green was her favourite colour, as shown by the evening gown she wore. The fabric matched her large eyes. They looked wide and innocent, but she was as much a fairy-tale princess as I was Prince Charming.
She gazed around the library, tugging at her gloves. “I love this library. It’s not as huge as the one at Raven Hall, but then again, none is.”
I’d never seen the infamous library, but from what Darius had told me, she was right.
“Is it ready to be seen again?” She sat at the oval table in a swish of silk.
“It’ll soon be.” I took a chair and ignored the plates of sandwiches, tarts, and sweets on the table.
She gestured to Knight to take a seat. “Tell me, Ravenhill. Why did you insist on an evening meeting?”
I lifted a shoulder. “My preference. As your preference was to request me to come alone without Mr. Strange, Lady Myrtha, and Lady Irene.”
“Why only the three of us?” Knight scratched the scar crossing his face.
“Because I have the impression that you let your companions influence your judgement.” She poured the tea as if this were a normal visit.
Knight made a noise that sounded like he was repressing a growl.
“We aren’t children, Esmeralda.” I had to contain my own annoyance, too.
She smiled pleasantly. “Forgive me, Ravenhill, but you are, compared to me. As I said during our last meeting, you and Knight have been dukes for a very short time compared to my—”
“Five hundred years,” I completed. I was growing tired of hearing that.
She shot me a quick glare. “I would like to know how your courts are faring, if Myrtha’s mysterious weakness is gone, and if the rumours of a disturbance in the Moon Court are true.”
Knight shifted on the seat. “What disturbance?”
Esmeralda took her time before answering. “Three men were found dead in Whitechapel, I believe.”
Of course, she must have heard of that. I drummed my fingers on the table. I should have discussed a strategy with Knight before coming to the meeting.
He turned his palms upwards. “If humans decide to kill each other, there isn’t much I can do. Whitechapel has never been a peaceful area with or without supernatural beings.”
“But these men were found bloodless.” Esmeralda angled towards me. “I suppose a vampire is involved.”
“We’re investigating the matter.” I kept my tone flat despite the burning annoyance.
“That’s wonderful.” Esmeralda’s expression told another story. “I feel more reassured. My first concern has always been and will always be the safety of humans, as I’m sure it’s yours. Yet there are three men dead under unnatural circumstances.”
“Three thugs,” Knight said, and I wanted to smack him on the head for having talked too much.
Esmeralda pursed her lips. “We don’t condone killing of any kind. The fact the victims were criminals doesn’t change anything. We don’t use our supernatural powers to kill humans. Alas, wilis have no choice, but let’s not make the exception the rule.”
“We don’t know what happened yet.” I signalled Knight to let me talk. “If you give us some time, we’ll get to the bottom of the matter.”
“You had better be quick.” She flashed another polite smile.
“What we know is that a sorcerer called Lord Rothbart is involved.” I’d better give her something to mull over, lest she think I wasn’t taking the matter seriously.
She stiffened. “That’s not possible. Rothbart is dead.”
“You know him?” I leant closer.
“He was Koschei’s apprentice, hungry for power.”
“The former Dark Duke?” I was stunned. I’d fought against Koschei without knowing he’d been Rothbart’s mentor.
Esmeralda nodded. “Rothbart became obsessed with dark magic until he surpassed his master. Poor is the student who doesn’t surpass his master, Koschei said.
” She lowered her gaze to her cup of tea, her posture slumping.
“But when Rothbart proved to be cleverer and more powerful than he was, Koschei became jealous. He was cruel to Rothbart, punishing him harshly, even torturing him. At the hands of Koschei, Rothbart developed a dependence on pain. He left the Dark Court to live in the Wraith Court. There, under the guidance of the Wraith Duke, he became even more powerful, mastering many spells. When the Civil War ended, he was found dead in the mansion, or so we believed. Are you sure it’s him? ”
“Mr. Strange thinks Rothbart is a sorcerer who masters only a couple of spells,” I said.
“It may be possible.” She straightened her fork, aligning it with the knife. “He might have lost most of his power and turned into a sorcerer. Still, there’s no proof of his identity.”
“None.” I had to agree with that.
She finished her tea and rose. Knight and I stood up as well. “That said, gentlemen, if humans keep being killed or if you expose our existence, I’ll take control of your courts.” Her tone wasn’t challenging but rather motherly.
“This is unacceptable.” Knight closed a shaking fist. “I’m working hard to keep my court safe and make it prosper.”
“Safety comes first. Always. And shall I remind Ravenhill that an evil witch is in your court?” she asked.
“Carabosse isn’t a danger.”
“She was part of the Wraith Court, and I don’t believe she’s changed. She should be exiled.”
“I should decide that.” I was having trouble controlling my temper.
Cara wasn’t my friend, but I was the Dark Duke. I made the decision.
She rang the bell, and the footmen opened the door. “I don’t want to hear of any further disorders in your courts. Get things sorted.”
Knight groaned when she left. “How can we stop her from taking over everything?”
I glanced at the Countess of Saragossa. “We must find that bloody rogue.”