God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (13 page)

I froze, biscuit poised halfway to my mouth. “She planned to move out?”

She looked surprised. “Why, yes. She didn’t tell you? She said she was going to live with some friends.” Surprise turned into guilty consternation. “Dear me, she did tell me it was a secret, but I didn’t think she meant from you.”

Like hell she didn’t. I patted the old girl’s hand. “Don’t fret, Mrs J. No doubt she thought I’d try to talk her out of it.”

Mrs Jones dabbed at her eyes again, but she smiled through the sheen of tears. “You’re right about that, Xandra, yes you are.”

I stayed long enough to finish my cup of tea and eat seven biscuits. Then I took my leave. It was after midnight now, and Mrs Jones was starting to yawn. I thanked her for her time and vowed to be back soon to take care of Dede’s belongings. She gave me half a dozen biscuits to take with me.

I was going to keep all Dede’s ACs and VCs just to piss her off. She had scads of American bootlegs I coveted.

Outside, I set out for the closest Met stop. I wished I had the Butler, but I had started this evening with plans to attend a funeral, not run about London. I hopped as few trains as needed to get me to Lambeth Road as quickly as possible. Soon I was standing on the street, looking through the locked gate at the sprawling asylum and chewing thoughtfully on a biscuit. I’d eaten almost all of them on the way here.

I could jump the fence, but that would set off the alarms – and it was so well lit and open in front that I wouldn’t be able to
conceal myself. Plus, there had to be video surveillance. I reckoned someone was watching me on a monitor somewhere.

I walked down the street and turned the corner. It was darker this way, and there were trees inside the wall. I was sure there were security measures in play here as well, but they’d been designed to keep people in, not out. No human would be able to get in without considerable effort, but I wasn’t human – half didn’t count.

This wasn’t much of a residential area, and at this time of night it was very, very quiet. As I approached the shadows near the wall I heard voices – jovial voices – coming from the other side. Was Bedlam having a party? Dear me, I’d forgotten to RSVP. Maybe Fee put my name on the guest list.

The thought of how I’d helped her – felt a kinship with her – burned in my gut. If I’d known then that she’d had anything to do with Dede’s disappearance, I would have beaten the truth out of her.

What was the connection? And what did the missing hospital records have to do with any of it? Why pretend my sister was dead? I had more questions than answers and it pissed me off.

That anger gave me the courage to do what I had to do next. I took a deep breath and ran for the wall, easily vaulting on to the top of it. Balanced precariously, I peered into the trees for a foothold. I jumped, grabbed a limb over my head and swung myself into the shelter of leaves and branches. My feet landed on what felt like a sturdy branch, and from there it was just a matter of climbing and swinging.

I dropped to the ground by the side of the building, where it was shaded and just out of reach of the floodlights and cameras. Slowly I moved towards the back of the asylum. I peeked around the corner, the brick wall cool and rough beneath my palms.

The back lawn of Bedlam was prettily landscaped. The far side bordered what I assumed was a parking area for staff vehicles. There was an ambulance there. The sight of it dried my throat. I remembered my mother being hauled away in a similar vehicle.

From there, I turned my attention to the people on the lawn. They sat on dilapidated chairs that were at least a hundred years old, chaises that weren’t in much better shape, and overturned crates. A small fire burned in a nearby pit, and I could hear the occasional “tink” of glass as they chattered and laughed amongst themselves.

They were mostly half-bloods – I could tell by the hair. There were humans there as well, though. It made me uneasy seeing the two races mix so casually, so easily. Yes, I was bigoted and not in the least bothered by it. History taught that humans were not to be trusted. Were these people staff? Some wore lab coats and uniforms that made me think they were, but others looked like regular citizens.

Amongst the crowd I spotted Fee’s blue head. She was talking to a man whose face I couldn’t see – his back was to me. She laughed and smiled as though she hadn’t a care in the world. I was so going to enjoy making a job of her. I should have brought my brass knuckles.

Partway up the wall there was a ladder – the sort used to escape during a fire, or slip out to meet mates at the club when you were underage. I took a step back, then threw myself at the building. Pushing against the wall with my toes, I leapt up and grasped the bottom rung. The metal quivered as I pulled myself up. Then it groaned. I heard a “ping” and something hit my cheek; it was one of the brackets holding the ladder to the wall. The bloody thing was going to snap loose, tossing me to the ground. It wasn’t injury that concerned me, but rather the noise that would accompany it.

For security, I reached out and pressed the tips of the fingers of
my left hand into a crevice between bricks. My grip felt strong, the wall sturdy. I frowned. I’d never really had to do much climbing before, but I enjoyed it. Still, it was one thing to climb a rope in class, or scale a rock wall. Could I pull myself up the side of this building?

Digging my fingers into the brick, I lifted my right foot and pressed the toe of my boot against the wall. Then I pushed up. I clutched at a window casing like an insect, heart beating hard enough to bruise my ribs, and slowly moved upwards, toward a better vantage point.

Using handholds caused by deteriorating mortar and bits of architecture, I worked my way up with surprising ease. When I reached the roof, I stepped over the low balustrade that ran around the entire perimeter and crept towards the centre, where I could crouch down and spy upon their do in a proper manner.

So many pretty hair colours mixed in with mundane blondes and gingers. Human hair wasn’t as glossy as halvie, so once you knew what to look for, it was relatively easy to pick out those masquerading from the real thing.

The man Fee had been talking to had left her during my climb, but the blue-haired halvie was a freaking social butterfly, flitting around the gathering like they were flowers and she was trying to pollinate them all.

And then I saw her stop and speak to a young woman with black hair. I probably would have dismissed it if I hadn’t caught a flash of gold as Fee handed her something. Was that a ring? The other woman raised her face with a smile – and that was when the breath caught in my throat.

It was Dede.

I watched her for what felt like hours but was probably only one, possibly one and a half. She looked happy – happier than I’d seen her look in a long time. It was heartbreaking to see her laugh.

I hated her at that moment. Her family and friends were in mourning and she looked so fucking happy. Was it possible she didn’t know that we’d been told she was dead? No. She hadn’t questioned the melted ring. She knew. To rub a little salt in, she was wearing a pair of my earrings.

The fires and lanterns were doused as the crowd slowly thinned and moved inside. I waited a little bit before trying to find my own entrance. The windows on the building were barred, again to keep people from getting out, but effectively preventing me from getting in without doing damage that was sure to be noticed. The windows on the chapel dome didn’t have bars, but I reckoned I’d have to break the glass to get in, and that would undoubtedly set off alarms.

The answer to my problem turned up about quarter of an hour later, when the human security guards began their rounds. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues, but it was easier to crouch and wait with anger and disappointment overwhelming me. I’d always been Dede’s staunchest supporter, always believed in her. But I had to face it, there was simply no bloody way I could excuse her of all culpability in whatever kind of mess this was. It simply seemed too premeditated to me.

I glanced down at the guards and was glad that hueys were easy to sneak up on. I swung my leg over the side of the roof and quickly scampered three quarters of the way down, confidence in my climbing abilities coming easily this time.

The guards began their rounds – one coming towards me, the other going around to the other side of the building. I clung to the window frame until the nearest guard turned the corner to walk past where I hung like a spider. Slowly I eased myself down the wall until I could drop soundlessly to the grass. I crept up behind
the guard. He had an ear bud in one ear – I could hear the melodic hum of music from his A-player. It wasn’t enough to keep him from hearing his buddy if he called for help, but it was just enough to distract him from me. Obviously they didn’t get much trouble round here.

The guard’s key card was attached to one of those clips that latched on to a belt loop and had a little retractable cord so you could display and use the ID without having to look for it. My dagger slid noiselessly from its sheath. I caught the dangling card and pulled it down and back, the pressure so light the guard didn’t notice. Then I severed the cord with one clean slice.

I froze when the guard suddenly stopped. My breath ripened in my lungs as he reached back and felt for the clip. If he turned around he’d see me and yell for back-up. I didn’t want to hurt anyone tonight if I could help it. I didn’t want any alarms to sound until I’d got what I came for.

Luck was on my side. The guard’s blunt fingers only went so far as to determine that the clip was still attached to his belt. He didn’t feel for the card. Success. When he eventually noticed it he’d think he’d snagged it on something. I’d drop it by the side of the building before I left.

Card in hand, I backed away as the guard kept walking, blissfully unaware. Once at the corner, I turned around and ran towards the door. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do when I got inside; I’d figure it out once I was there.

The light on the card port turned green when I inserted the card, and I quickly turned the knob and crossed the threshold. I was in a corridor that looked far more welcoming than it felt. It had the same dark panelling as the foyer and a carpet with a William Morris design. To my right was what looked like a drawing room and to the left a huge dining hall with large windows that overlooked the grounds.

At least my mother had been imprisoned in a nice place. The temptation to find out about her was strong, but my fear of discovering what this place might have done to her was greater. There wasn’t anything I could do for her, but I could still save Dede.

Save her so I could fucking kill her myself.

I had to admit, with the exception of the morgue, Bedlam didn’t look nearly as nightmarish as I thought it ought, a theory only reinforced as I tiptoed down the corridor into the spacious and welcoming great hall. There I stopped for a moment and sniffed the air. Dede’s scent rushed to greet me, bringing the sting of tears to my eyes.

I don’t think I’d realised just how afraid I’d been that she was actually dead – that somehow I’d imagined all evidence to the contrary.

My sister’s scent led me to the right – what would be the west wing. Here oak wainscot contrasted with creamy walls. The ceiling above was white with embossed tiles, and on the floor there was more pretty carpet. The doors were curved at the top, and between each room was an ornate wall sconce emanating soft light. Little side tables held vases of fresh flowers that filled the wide corridor with the smell of spring. But Dede’s scent remained.

I chased the smell, letting my nose lead me. I kept an eye and an ear out for company, but none came.

At the end of the hall was a hidden staircase – probably used by servants once upon a time. I climbed it, following my sister. On the next floor I paused, listening. Muted voices conversed behind closed doors. Someone was playing a guitar. Someone else was watching the box. Easily a dozen other scents reached out to me, daring me to put their puzzle together. I ignored them, because my head wanted to make them into something familiar, and I didn’t have time for it.

My search led me to a room three doors down on the left. On
the other side of the door I could hear Sid Vicious warbling about the summer wind. It couldn’t be that this was where the scent ended, not with Sid played inside.

I didn’t knock. I shoved the guard’s card in the lock, grabbed the brass doorknob and turned it, my heart pounding against my ribs. The heavy wood swung open and I crossed the threshold, alert to any possible threat. But nothing happened. No one jumped me or tried to shoot me. I turned towards the bed and the young woman sitting on it. A book was page-down beside her on the patchwork quilt. She wasn’t reading it, she was staring at me. And I was staring at her black hair – so human and common-looking.