Unperfect Souls (30 page)

I’d seen the commissioner angry before, even angry at me, but this came out of the blue. “Excuse me?”

Moira grabbed his arm. “Scott, stop it.”

“I think stopping this is very good advice, Commissioner.” Tibbet’s voice was low and sharp. Behind her, two brownie security guards waited with polite expressions on their faces.

The commissioner released me with a shove. A few guests had noticed the commotion but were pretending they hadn’t. Tibbet tilted her head down and toward one shoulder as if listening to something behind her. “The Guildmaster requests that you join him in his study in a few moments, Commissioner. My assistants will provide you with whatever you need in the meantime.”

Scott Murdock adjusted his jacket. “Tell Eagan I’m leaving. I will speak to him tomorrow.”

Tibbet clasped her hands at her waist. “I respect that desire, sir. However, I believe it will take some time to retrieve your vehicle, and I am sure you would not wish to break protocol and neglect to thank your host while you wait.”

The commissioner set his jaw and glared at Moira. “Get this . . . person away from me, then.”

Tibbet nodded with a smile at Moira. “Please wait in the back hall until I arrive, will you?”

Moira had gone pale. “Do extend my regrets to Manus, but I believe it best I retire for the evening.”

Tibbet’s smile tightened. “This is the Guildmaster’s house, Cashel. Your presence is not a request.”

Tibbet took my arm and led me through the great hall. She smiled as we eased our way through the crowd and toward the fireplace. A servant was helping Eagan to his feet.

Are you okay?
Tibbet sent.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I have no idea what that was about,” I said.

Manus is furious. It’s not good for him. Please try to keep him calm,
she sent.

“I will,” I said.

We followed Eagan and the servant into the back hall. Moira waited there, but Eagan ignored her as we passed through double doors that the servant opened. Moira wouldn’t meet my eyes and looked like she wanted to escape.

The servant helped Eagan to an armchair by the lit fireplace. The study had a classic décor of dark wood, expensive leather couches, and stained-glass lamps, and miles of bookcases filled with books on subjects both fey and human. As the servant adjusted the blanket on Eagan’s lap, the old man brushed him away. “That’s enough. If you and Tibbet will wait outside please.”

Tibbet gave me a significant glance as she left to remind me what she had said. I squeezed her hand. Eagan leaned back in the corner of the chair and shook his head. “It’s never dull around here. There’s a flask behind that curtain over there. Could you get it for me?”

I went to the window he indicated and found a small glass flask on the floor hidden by the brocade drapery. “Who the hell hides all these flasks for you?”

He grinned around the neck of the bottle, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s a secret. And speaking of, I assume you have something to report?”

I nodded. “How familiar are you with the crackdown in the Weird?”

A cryptic look spread over his features. “I get reports.”

I spun an antique globe on a stand near the wall. “Are you aware that the Boston P.D. has turned over all security to Guild agents?”

“Out of political necessity, I had to allow Guild agents to act under civilian authority. The Boston police are powerless against the fey. You know that,” he said.

I nodded. “Some of their actions are going beyond the law—civilian or Guild. Complaints to the police are referred to the Guild and complaints to the Guild are ignored.”

A sly smile slid onto his face. “I know you, Grey. You’ve been complaining about that for some time.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been complaining about neglect. This is different. The Guild agents down there are actively breaking the law. They’re encouraging a turf war between the solitaries and the Dead. It’s going to explode if they don’t back off.”

Eagan frowned. “And the Boston police are involved?”

I glanced at him. “Human officers have been ordered to stand aside and let the Guild do what it wants. I personally saw Commissioner Murdock meet secretly with a leading perpetrator among the Dead.”

Eagan rubbed at his chin. “What do you make of it?”

I smiled at him. “If you ask the Guild, they’re acting on your orders.”

Eagan chuckled softly to himself. “And when there is blood on the ground, macGoren can blame me and gain the support of the solitaries at the same time. How much time do you think I have?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s reached a crisis point.”

Eagan hummed to himself. “It seems I may have to put in an appearance downtown and shake things up a bit. I had hoped to spoil their plans once they had Vize in custody, but I suppose I can adjust.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “What does Vize have to do with it?”

Eagan leaned his head back, his eyebrows raised in thought. “Everything, of course. The solitaries have been hiding him for Bastian Frye. MacGoren is using the Dead to find him, particularly a miscreant named Jark. Matters seem to have gotten out of hand. I didn’t anticipate the human police colluding with macGoren. An excellent move on his part, though he seems to have overplayed it. That’s always been macGoren’s flaw—his unwavering surety in the perfection of his plans.”

My feet felt rooted to the floor. “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

Eagan shrugged. “I didn’t
let
anything happen. The whole point of a black ops program is in its unprovability. I couldn’t stop it unless I knew the identities of macGoren’s agents, and that I was still working on. Unfortunately, Jark killed my inside agent before she could expose them.”

Jark killed his inside agent. The statement sank in with a sense of disbelief at what I was hearing and what it meant. “Are you talking about Sekka?”

Eagan barely suppressed a look of exasperation. “Of course, Grey. Why do you think I called you in the first place? When Sekka disappeared the same night Jark’s body turned up, I wanted to keep tabs on your investigation.”

I shook my head with a touch of anger that I had completely missed the connection. “And you had Keeva bury the Guild notice that Sekka was a Consortium agent to keep her Guild double-agent status secure, didn’t you?”

He tapped his knee in acknowledgment. “And had the damnedest time getting her to do it.”

“You used me,” I said.

He managed to look indignant and amused at the same time. “I most certainly did not. You took on Sekka’s murder case before I spoke to you. I gave you a complete choice in the matter. I merely covered my bases.”

I laughed. The man amazed me. “You’re right. I take it back.”

He grinned. “I’ll have to deal with this tomorrow. Something tells me the commissioner is in no mood to discuss his failings tonight.” He gestured at the door. “Now, tell me. Why have two of my guests felt inclined to lay hands on you?”

“Moira I insulted. I have no idea what the commissioner’s problem is.”

Eagan chuckled again. “I should chastise you for being a rude guest, but that minx has been spying on me for weeks. She’s quite the amateur. I expect better court intrigue from Maeve. She disappoints, she does.”

I bowed my head. “I apologize anyway.”

He acknowledged it with a nod. Eagan might have been pleased I had annoyed Moira, but he still liked the niceties of protocol. “Let’s see what they have to say for themselves,” he said.

A weak sending fluttered in the air, and the doors opened. Moira entered first, her expression firmly angry. She glared at me as she moved to the side of the room and bowed extravagantly toward Eagan. “You have my deepest apologies, Guildmaster. I was provoked in the situation. Allow me to make it up to my host.”

Eagan hummed. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Grey and will deal with him as fitting. I will think on your apology. Stay a moment, will you, Moira? I would like your presence while I speak to my other guest.”

Moira bowed again as the commissioner strode in without acknowledging either of us. Tibbet closed the doors behind him.
I will be right outside,
she sent.

“What do you want, Eagan?” the commissioner asked.

Eagan put on a tolerant smile. “Pray, have a seat, Commissioner, and let us sort through this disruption of my house.”

“I apologize for involving you in a personal matter. I’m leaving now. Thank you.” He turned and stopped short, obviously making eye contact with Moira over my shoulder.

Eagan didn’t change his expression. “I appreciate that, Commissioner, but I believe you owe an apology elsewhere as well.”

The commissioner’s gaze shifted to me. “I’ll be god-damned before you get an apology from me, Grey.”

Eagan spoke to the commissioner’s back. “I will be the judge of that in my own home, Commissioner. What is the meaning of this?”

Moira stepped forward. “This is all a misunderstanding, Manus. We should not take any more time from you.”

Eagan rocked his head against his chair. “I don’t think so, Moira. I invited Grey here, and both of you laid hands on him. I am not pleased.”

The commissioner stepped toward me. “Where do you think you’re going with this? I will cut you off at the knees, you miserable piece of shit.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

He grabbed the lapel of my jacket. “I am going to ask you one more time: What little plan did the two of you come up with?”

Eagan struggled to his feet. “Unhand him now, Commissioner.”

Moira pushed herself in front of me, forcing the commissioner back. He didn’t let go. I reached up to pry his hand away. Moira shoved him back. “Knock it off, Scott. He didn’t know,” she said. Only she used Amy’s voice.

The commissioner backhanded her across the face. “Don’t you dare use her voice,” he said.

The door opened behind me as Moira fell back into my arms. In the blink of an eye, Tibbet was in the center of the room. Her eyes were huge, and her fingers elongated and tipped with claws. She didn’t speak, but I felt sendings fluttering in the air. Tibbet went to Eagan’s side and gently forced him back into his chair.

“What the hell is going on here?” Eagan said.

The commissioner faced Eagan. “She’s betraying you, Eagan. Setting you up to take a fall and using me to do it.”

Moira moved toward the commissioner, her body shield flickering around her as a bitter, angry glint sparked in her eye. “He’s lying, Manus. Scott Murdock has been blackmailing the Guild to force his political agenda down in the Weird. He’s been taking money to let Guild agents operate in the Weird without human oversight. I’ve been trying to convince Ryan macGoren it’s a trap. He’s going to let you take the fall when things get out of control. This man hates us, Manus. He hates all the fey. It amuses him to get paid to watch them kill each other down in the Weird, all because once upon a time, his pride and ego were damaged by a woman.”

“Stop using her voice,” the commissioner said through gritted teeth.

Moira’s face shifted, a ripple of light and color cascading over her. Amy’s face resolved into focus. “It’s my voice, Scott, and I will use it. You’re not going to silence me ever again.”

“You are not her,” the commissioner said.

Moira laughed, an unattractive sneer on her face. “Oh, but I am, Scott. I would have been satisfied to watch you lose your precious reputation, and no one had to know why except you. But you had to make a scene. So finish it, little man. Tell them what I did to you and what you did to me.”

Blood drained from the commissioner’s face as he began to tremble. “Shut your mouth.”

Moira shook her head. “Never again, Scott.” She tilted her head toward Eagan. “This man put a gun to my head and threatened to shoot me and my children if I didn’t leave, Manus. He was so horrified that he had married a fey that he was willing to commit murder to hide it from the humans.”

The floor felt as if it shifted under me, as the reality of what she said sank in. “Holy shit,” I whispered.

“You bitch,” the commissioner said. A gun appeared in his hand before anyone registered his movement. Tibbet came forward as I yanked Moira back. Eagan shouted.

The gun went off.

The flash blinded me. The crackle of essence-fire burned in the air. Something slammed into my face, a searing hot blow beneath my right eye. Pain lanced through my head, then a wash of cold ran down my body. My knees collapsed. Fluid filled my throat as I fell. I coughed a spray of blood into the air. I tried to inhale but choked as more blood entered my lungs. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred. The room spun in a smear of color and

 

 

 

 

White.

Sound stopped. The music. The shouting. Gone.

Whiteness filled my vision with nothing to break the relentlessness of it. I coughed, feeling blood in my throat, hot blood welling out of my mouth and down my face. Blood ran into my ears, across my chin, down my neck.

Above me, the white simply was, as if the air itself was color. Or no color. As if nothing else existed except the white. I lay on the ground, if there was ground, on something. The firmness of it pressed against the back of my head, but nowhere else. My head rolled to one side of its own accord, blood pouring out of my mouth. I wanted to sit up, to stand, to reach up and touch my face, but my body did not respond. Numb. I was numb. Paralyzed. Gods, I can’t move myself.

Everything was white. I have been here before. This is where it started. Or ended. I don’t remember which.

Everything around me is white. I lie on my back, staring into a nothingness of white. I am here again. This place. Above me, I see two vast shadow shapes. Powerful shapes speaking with words I do not understand. They move closer.