God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (21 page)

His words sent a shiver of unease down my spine. And I’d given Vex a hard time about his ego. Mine wasn’t much weaker. Why did I instantly assume that my records were the ones they were after?

Because Fee had waved that file in my face like a red scarf in front of a bull.

“You watch too many procedurals, Simon.”

He laughed. “Got to have some excitement in my life. Call you in a few days, love.”

I thanked him and told him he was my favourite labby, and then left the building. I was a little nervous about the outcome, though I was fairly certain there was nothing special about my blood. Still, if Ophelia was to be believed, someone had mucked about with my medical records, and I wanted to know why. Was I one of the experiments Dede had gone on about? Or maybe, Ophelia just wanted to have something to hold over my head so I wouldn’t go outing their little rebellion to the authorities.

There was no point in getting all mental about it until I had the results. My grip on sanity felt tenuous at best, so why step on my own fingers?

I made the trip to Whitechapel in record time. The flat was just as it had been during my last visit. Mrs Jones had left boxes outside the door for me, along with a large roll of tape. She was in quite a hurry indeed.

I tossed my coat on the sofa and put two of the boxes together. One was for things I’d take with me. The other was for donations. If Dede wanted any of it back, she could drag her arse to the charity shop. I certainly wasn’t risking my own neck to take it to her. I was in too deep as it was.

Why couldn’t I have just believed she was dead?

I went through her ACs and VCs. A lot of them I already owned, but I took some anyway and some of the extras for Avery and Val.

Someone was going to have to come and collect her furniture. Was betraying your country worth leaving your life and family behind? Obviously it was, because Dede had done just that.

I had tried to wrap my head around it long enough. No more. Instead I popped a cylinder into the player and turned the volume up. I was so taking her audio system home with me.

It was because of the high volume of the music and my subsequent singing along that I didn’t hear footsteps approach the door. In fact, I didn’t know I had company until the door of the apartment swung open. I whipped the Bulldog out of its holster and levelled it at the intruder.

Churchill froze on the threshold, watching me as warily as if I was a wild animal.

“I hope you’re not planning on using that thing,” he joked.

Safety on, I slipped the handgun back into place, snug against my hip and upper thigh. Then, as I turned the volume down, “Apologies, sir. Reckon I’m a little on edge.”

He nodded and stepped inside. “I should have announced myself. Obviously it would be difficult to hear me over the music.” And my caterwauling along with it. But if Church hadn’t wanted me to hear him, it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d been sitting here in stone silence, I don’t think I would have known he was there.

When I didn’t say anything, he remarked, “You sounded rather chipper.”

That came across as vaguely censorious. Or maybe I was just paranoid. After Bedlam and Val’s remarks about Vex, the ground was a little unsteady under my usually sure feet. I put a photograph of me, Dede, Avery and Val in the box of stuff to take home. “I considered wailing and gnashing my teeth, but it’s not a good look for me.”

He chuckled, and I relaxed a little. “Rumour has it that you were quite chummy with the MacLaughlin at Freak Show last evening.”

I paused over the box. “If rumour has it then it must be so.” I forced a smile to soften the words, but I had no intention of
discussing my personal life with Church. What I did want to discuss was the things I’d discovered at Bedlam, but that wasn’t going to happen.

And why wasn’t it? This was my chance to tell him everything and wash my hands of it. Keeping quiet would only make things worse. Yet here I was, keeping my own counsel. Church would not excuse Dede for being part of the group who had killed his friends and family during the Great Insurrection. He wouldn’t forgive me for keeping it from him either.

I opened my mouth to speak …

“Grief can lead to poor choices, Alexandra. I do hope you will be careful in your dealings with the marquess.” A deep furrow cleaved the flesh between his brows. “I hate to think of what he’d do to an impressionable girl like you.”

Dealings? Impressionable? “I didn’t ask him to do my taxes, Church. We had some drinks and danced, that’s all.”

His gaze locked with mine and I noticed his jaw was tight. “You left with him.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him just how little I liked this condescending attitude when a particular flicker in his eyes stopped me; made my stomach clench.

Was Church jealous? Fang me.

“I did,” I replied, placing another photo in the box. “And that’s really none of your business, sir.” I tried to keep my tone even, but I was starting to feel like the whole world was going barking mad. Thoughts of confiding in him disappeared as my defences came up.

Church looked as though I’d slapped him. “You’re right. It isn’t any of my business with whom you spend your free time. I thought our years of friendship gave me the right to speak freely with you. I see now that was an error, my apologies.”

I sighed and reached for another photo. “Martyrdom doesn’t
suit you, old man. I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need for it. You don’t like the marquess and I respect that, but I do, so you need to respect that in return.”

He opened his mouth as though to argue with me, but closed it just as quickly. “Fine.”

The word must have left a poor taste in his mouth, given his pinched expression. I smiled, for a moment forgetting all my questions and suspicions. “What brings you to this part of town, Church?”

He looked about the flat. “I got your message. It sounded important. I thought we could chat face to face, and I could help you put Dede’s affairs in order.”

I hesitated, a statue of Danger Mouse in my hand. Right. I had called him. Didn’t seem like such a smart move with hindsight. “That’s not your responsibility. Not like she was with the Academy or RG.”

“No, but she was Peerage Protectorate, and I’m on the board. Plus, as a friend of the family, I’m here to do all I can for you in your time of need.”

Twenty-four hours ago I would have believed him without question, but paranoia made me suspicious – and Church had trained me to be that way. Did he suspect Dede had faked her death? I had told him my own theory; had he followed up and discovered the truth about Bedlam?

No. If Church had found out about Bedlam, it would have been raided by now.

Unless he knew I’d been there and he was trying to protect me.
Fuck
.

“That’s very good of you, sir.” I was a better actress than I thought – not a hint of falsehood in my tone. “Thank you for your concern, but I have the situation in hand. I’m sorry for the dramatic message. I was feeling … out of sorts.”

He picked up a bobble-head doll that sat on a shelf by the door and studied it. “Dear Alexandra. You wouldn’t ask for help even if you needed it, would you, you stubborn, stoic girl?”

My brow twitched but didn’t arch, thank God. Stubborn maybe, but stoic? Did he know me at all? “No,” I admitted. “Probably not. Can I get you anything? I think there’s tea in the cupboard.”

He held up a broad hand. “Please, do not trouble yourself. I’m off to the Devonshires’ later this evening and have several pressing things to take care of before then.”

I stared at his hand. No doubt that lack of fine bones made him stand out amongst his own kind even more. Did he blame his mother for it, as I blamed mine for my moments of madness?

I reckon I couldn’t blame her any more. Seeing as how she wasn’t really mad, it was a useless exercise. All nuttiness was completely my own.

“I’ll probably spend most of the night here,” I volunteered. “Not like I have anything else to do.”

He lifted his chin as he pinned me with a frankly questioning gaze. “You would rather be at work than spend this difficult time with your family?”

“I would rather be at work than alone with my own thoughts, sir.” That was true – and more of a confession than I should have given. Then I added, “Grief and idle hands do not mix.”

I thought Church might take his leave now, but he didn’t. Instead, he came closer, leaning one elbow on the box of things I’d planned to take with me. “You went to Bedlam last night. Might I ask if that had anything to do with why you rang?”

He did suspect something. “I wanted to have my own private memorial to my sister. And afterwards I suppose I felt rather sorry for myself.” I busied my hands with putting more items in the boxes, so that I didn’t adopt a defensive posture. Wait a
moment … “Might
I
ask how you knew where I was, sir?” And how had he known where to find me now?

I felt him watching me as I worked. “When Avery told me you hadn’t returned home with her, I checked your locator chip. I was concerned for you.”

Concerned for me maybe. But he’d definitely been concerned as to what I’d been up to. I made a mental note to dig out my old displacer. We’d used them when we used to sneak out to go clubbing. Basically they fooled the transmitters beneath our skin into thinking they were somewhere else, so if a parent or Academy employee tried to check up on us they’d think we were somewhere much more suitable than the truth.

I hadn’t used my displacer since joining the RG because I thought the tracker a good idea given the danger of the job, but now it seemed more like an invasion of privacy than a safety precaution. “You could have rung me instead of spying on me.”

Church smiled slightly. It was an expression I’d always thought of as calming; now it struck me as falsely placating. Damn Dede for making me question him! “Don’t be like that, Alexandra. I don’t mean to pry.”

That both mollified and chastised me. “Beg pardon, sir. I’m not myself at present.”

He straightened and patted my hand with his own much larger one. “No offence taken, my dear. If you do not require assistance I will leave you to your unfortunate task. You will let someone come by and take away what you do not keep, won’t you? You won’t try to do everything yourself?”

It was a kind sentiment, and I tried to see it as just that. I nodded. “I will, promise.”

“Take care, my dear girl.” Then he cupped the back of my head with his palm and kissed me on the forehead. My throat tightened, my eyes burned. It was all I could do at that moment not to fall
down at his feet and admit everything, beg his forgiveness and his help.

But I held my tongue and knees firmly in place, and didn’t even dare to breathe until he was gone, door closed behind him. Then, my shoulders sagged and I drew a deep breath into my lungs.

I was hungry.

All the boxes Mrs Jones had left were filled and taped up in the middle of the living-room floor. I’d packed almost all of the cylinders and knick-knacks from the open area. I’d need more boxes for the bedroom, loo and kitchen. I’d have to rent a van to take everything I wanted to keep.

I grabbed a packet of crisps from the cupboard and ate those before climbing on to the Butler. There was an Indian restaurant I liked near Drury Lane, and since I didn’t feel like going home, I went there instead. As soon as I sat down I realised that I was the only person at a table alone. Everyone else was there with someone, or a table full of someones.

I ordered food, and when it came I ploughed through the basmati, naan and rich butter chicken in record time. I followed it up with a sinfully delicious dessert and left the restaurant sated.

I went next to St James’s, to a gorgeous sprawling building of pale stone and tall columns. It looked like a palace, but was actually the most prestigious brothel in the Kingdom – Courtesan House. I had spent much of my early life there, and had visited often through the years afterwards, but as I stood outside the gate, I hesitated to push the button that would alert staff to my presence.

What did I hope to accomplish with this visit? Was I looking for truth, absolution or something else? How many times did I have to pick this scab before I could be satisfied with the scar? Nothing I might find in this house would make the last few days any better or make any more sense. I should just turn on my heel
and go home. Later, if Avery and Emma were around, I’d order pizza and we’d share a bottle of wine.

I pressed the button.

There followed a crackle of static before I was asked to identify myself. I’d no sooner said my name then the gates began to open with a clink and the whisper of well-oiled hinges.

Finely crushed gravel crunched beneath the thick soles of my boots as I walked up the drive. As children, those of us who lived here would run down to the gate and stare out at the world beyond. Sometimes there would be human children there, mocking us because we could only gaze out at their wonderful world. Occasionally we were taken out on trips, but halvie children were vulnerable and there were humans who were not above killing what they perceived as a monster, even if it was a child. Our world was this place until we were old enough to go to the Academy, and then that became our world until we’d proved we could defend ourselves. What happened after that depended on aptitude and choice.