Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1 (13 page)

“She should be able to stop me, mentally, if she’s truly the Niteclif.”

That pissed me off. I had taken so much on faith in the last few days, been dragged into a world of make-believe without much explanation, been shot and then poisoned and here he was questioning
me
?

“I would think that my initial efforts would have counted toward convincing everyone. Apparently I’m wrong.” I dropped Bahlin’s hand and stepped forward, but he stopped my progress by dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “It only seems fair that if you’re going to increase the game by siphoning power off each other that I should be able to use what defenses are available to me. Or do you two not play fair?”

Black Beauty arched her eyebrow at me but set her hands on top of the table. Hellion gave a lopsided grin, shrugging.

Tarrek laid a hand on my other shoulder and said, “Gretta, Hellion, this is Madeleine Niteclif, though she strongly prefers to go by Maddy.” No one else was bringing up my quick healing, so I left it alone. I wouldn’t have to answer questions that were never asked. Profound, that.

Gretta inclined her head toward me, ceding this round, I supposed. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to look at the woman sitting to Hellion’s left. She smiled, and I noticed her canines were sharper than normal. Her skin was as pale as milk, and her hair was as dark as Tarrek’s. But her eyes were her most startling feature. Her eyes were the color of the Caribbean sea. I gasped, guessing immediately what flavor of the supernatural she was. Vampire. She was sitting at the table in a leather dress that left little to the imagination, looking more like fetish-wear and uncomfortable at that. She stood to offer me a hand, and I realized the dress was slit up to her waist on each side. I was instantly embarrassed, and Gretta and Hellion chuckled.

“You’ll have to get used to Imeena,” Hellion said, his voice deep and melodious. “She has her own sense of fashion, and it often involves as few pieces of clothing as possible.”

“It will likely take her as much time to get used to me as I’m remiss to express my fashion sense beyond jeans and a T-shirt.” I smiled.

Imeena smiled back. “You are kind to make no more of my aversion to boring clothing than it is, Niteclif.”

“So you believe in me?”

She let her head fall back, and her laughter sounded like sex and dark nights and mystery. “Oh, I do at that, precious girl,” she said. “I feel your heritage in my heart, for I knew your great-grandfather well. Therefore I will defer to your word as law. I will accept your rulings to be fair and just.” She inclined her head slightly at the last word, and I felt a shockwave ripple through me. Those were the same words that Tarrek had said at the restaurant four days ago when he affirmed me.

“And that is enough then, isn’t it? Because our two fair brethren have already made up their minds.”

I looked at Bahlin, and he sighed. “I’ve yet to affirm her.” He turned and looked at me. “If I say the words, Maddy, it’s done. There’s no going back because it will be a High Council majority. What would you have me do?”

“Aren’t we missing someone?” I asked, counting through them again.
Bahlin, Tarrek, Hellion, Imeena—yep, four.

“Sarenia is not here, but we have enough for a majority.”

I thought about it. I had already begun to sense a difference in my thought process, more logical and less influenced by the ordinary. I knew, deep down, that my genealogy was true and that I was a descendant of the greatest sleuth of all time. The biggest shift was realizing he’d been real, not fiction. But I had to accept it. I’d gone from a mild-mannered, out of work copyeditor to a shot-up detective in a matter of days. Nothing like this happened to “normal” people, or mundies. I realized that there really was no backing out at this point.

“It’s okay, Bahlin. I don’t know if I believe this is my legacy, but it’s where I’m at and I’m responsible for it. It began five nights ago with my own wish, and I think it has too much momentum to stop it now. Affirm me so we can get on with this.” I felt a hand run down the back of my hair, and I turned my face toward Tarrek. He was like the night amid all this white stone and marble, though I knew he was a creature of light and life. But he looked so sad.

“I’m sorry, Madeleine. I would go back and stop this from being set in motion if I could.”

“No, Tarrek. No apologies, okay? My dad used to always say that you ended up where you were supposed to be. So I’m here. And it’s all right.” I bumped his shoulder with my forehead. “Besides, I’ll fake it ’til I make it, right?”

“Or until you are killed,” said Gretta.

Oh good. An optimist. I looked at her and said, “No need to be threatened by a mundane like me, Gretta. Not if you’re the real deal.”

She scowled. “The real deal? What do you think I am?”

“A witch.” Ah, so many connotations came to mind, but I actually meant the literal translation, even if I did say it with a little forcefulness.

Gretta’s smile was just as snarky as my response in that it held worlds unsaid. “Very good, little Niteclif. Very good. I suppose how we proceed depends on Bahlin, then.”

All eyes turned to him, and we waited. His gaze shifted to me and me alone. The amphitheater may as well have been empty.

In a voice resonating with leashed power, Bahlin’s voice rang out over the silent amphitheater. “I will defer to your word as law. I will accept your rulings to be fair and just.”

It was done.

Chapter Six

The room erupted in cheers, and I jumped like someone had stuck a cattle prod to my bare skin. Two people emerged from the crowd and began walking toward us. Male and female, they were tall, almost equally so. He was fair-skinned with hair to his waist, a slim yet muscular build and intelligent eyes. She was like the sun, hair of spun gold that hung to her knees, bronzed skin and tall, with few curves evident beneath her clothing. If not for her hair and her delicate features she could have been described as androgynous. The difference in their expressions, hers wary and his curious, was plain for everyone to see.

“Son,” said the man, “introduce us to the Niteclif.”

Tarrek inclined his head and then turned to me. “Madeleine Niteclif, allow me to present to you my father, Kelten, King of Faerie. And this is my mother, Gaitha, Queen of Faerie. Father, Mother, this is Madeleine.”

I didn’t know whether to shake hands, bow or curtsy, so I made a mixed attempt at a bow and curtsy and probably looked like I was having a mild seizure. But the introductions were made.
So much for being cool
,
I thought, silently grinning at the absurdity of it all
.

Kelten, his eyes on me, addressed the crowd in a strong voice. “Madeleine Niteclif has been affirmed. The High Council will meet here and discuss the murders. Maddox has been disavowed and will be killed on site for his involvement in the attempted murder of the Niteclif.” The room fell so silent you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. “The queen and I will remain for the High Council meeting and will share what information we may regarding Jossel’s disappearance and the murders to date. Return to your activities.” The room’s residents began to move quietly, with no more than a rustle of fabric as they made their way out the doors.

The king and queen took seats at the table. Tarrek and Bahlin both approached me to escort me to the table, which was flattering and frustrating. I looked from one to the other and said, “Look, if we have to work out a system for taking turns, we will. But for now, let’s all sit, okay?” I moved passed them and sat next to Gaitha, directly across from Hellion. The two men stood staring at me, then took seats at the head and foot of the table, though it was beyond me as to which was which. I think if they’d been able to discern the head from the foot they would have fought over who sat where if it hadn’t been for the king’s glare at Tarrek.

Kelten turned to look at me, leaning past his wife so that he could make eye contact. “Madeleine—”

“Just Maddy, please, sir.”

He quirked an eyebrow and in that instant I saw Tarrek in his face—the same eyes, the same jaw, the same mannerisms. It dawned on me that Tarrek was truly royalty. I bit my bottom lip and glanced at Tarrek. I’m ashamed to say it changed the way I thought of him, if even for a moment. Not that it made me any more or less attracted to him, but maybe that I was more aware he was royalty.

“Maddy,” said Kelten, drawing my attention back to him. “I want to extend Faerie’s deepest regret that one of our own, nearly a member of the royal family, caused you harm.” I looked up in time to see Hellion and Gretta clasp hands and Imeena look down and away. What was with the avoidance? These creatures came from a world that was apparently more used to violence than humans, and definitely more than I had ever been exposed to short of CNN. So why look uncomfortable?

Kelten interrupted my thoughts, continuing his speech. “I would ask that you involve both me and the queen in the investigation’s update as we’ve lost Maddox to the tragedy, and we will likely lose Jossel.” I was struck by two things. First, that the king spoke of Maddox as if he were dead. Second, that he spoke of Jossel as if his death was imminent and unavoidable. I looked at the king hard, and he maintained eye contact. What was I looking for? Anything, I suppose, that would tell me why he was behaving this way.

“I think that it’s alright if you sit in on this meeting, but after that I’ll leave it up to the Council to vote on whether or not you can participate.” The king looked shocked that I would deny his request. The queen looked like she was still grieving. “Ma’am?” I said, looking at her.

“Maddox was my uncle,” she said, a bright sheen of tears showing in her eyes. “I have lost a member of my family, so forgive me if I am not thrilled to be a part of this discussion. Though I will not have you think that I am not sorry you were shot. I am. But I am grievously sorry you are sure that Maddox is the culprit.” Tears spilled over her bottom lashes, and she swiped at them angrily, turning to glare at her husband.

Apparently no one had shared with these folks that I’d been poisoned.

“Gaitha?” She spun on me, the festering rage in her eyes not schooled to misery yet. “I’m sorry, Queen Gaitha?”

She inclined her head at me, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m sorry for your loss, truly. If this meeting will be too hard for you, I’d encourage you to leave. There’s no reason to scrape at a pain that’s so fresh.”

“So you believe that I can disregard my duties as queen because it’s too hard?” she said in a tone that was very close to mocking me.

“Nooooo,” I said. “I just think it’s not humane.”

“And I am not human, Niteclif.”

She was right, and I was a fool to forget it sitting at a table surrounded by the surreal as I was.

We discussed the particulars of the case, as few as they were, though I was hesitant to offer my speculation as to why Maddox shot me. Since once again Bahlin didn’t bring up the poisoning, I said nothing. Discussion was loud and, at times, heated. Everyone seemed to think that political maneuvering was the foremost reason for the murders until I interrupted.

“Then why was I shot? Because all of this started before I even got here. To England, I mean.” Everyone looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Pardon us,” Imeena said. “We don’t presume to have a more thorough knowledge than the Niteclif of investigative procedures.”

“But—” I began.

Bahlin silenced everyone. “No, Maddy. Imeena’s right. We won’t know as much as you will about finding this killer.”

I was confused. Bahlin had worked with the last two Niteclifs, so he should be as adept as anyone. “But Bahlin, you—”

“No, Maddy. I mean it.” He looked at me pointedly. And I realized in that instant that his efforts, his identity, had all been concealed behind the fictional character of Watson. It was then that I remembered what he had said to me,
“You’re the first person to put it all together.”
No one knew who he was.

I nodded slightly and said, “Okay. Then I suggest that we save our individual speculations until I’ve had a chance to do some fieldwork. We can meet again, preferably in a neutral location, and discuss what I’ve found. Acceptable? Besides, I could use some rest.” And it was true. I was wearing down fast.

“Agreed,” said Tarrek.

Bahlin nodded back to me, looking relieved. We’d have to talk about trust if this was going to go on, us working together and putting our lives in each others’ hands. Because while I was undeniably attracted to him, I didn’t trust him. Or Tarrek. Or anyone in this room. I had a murderer to find, and no one was excluded from being suspect as of yet. No one.

Tarrek rose, helping his mother to her feet. She stared at me for a long minute then turned and walked out of the amphitheater. We all followed her lead.

Bahlin, Tarrek and I returned to the room I had called home for the last three unconscious days.

“What are the chances I could get some working clothes, Tarrek?” I asked, rolling my shoulders at the weight of the gown. I felt stifled and fraudulent. It just wasn’t my style.

“Of course, Maddy. I’ll go get something from one of the women and return shortly.” He took my hand and kissed it softly. I retrieved it as fast as I could without being bitchy. Behind him Bahlin rolled his eyes.

“Okay, Bay, tell me how likely it is that what you did earlier will cause any lasting effects with us.”

Bahlin sauntered over to the chair by the door and sat, leaning back and crossing his feet at the ankles, arms over his chest. “Would it be so bad?”

“I don’t know how to answer that since I don’t know what it might mean that we’ve shared whatever it is we’ve shared.” I crawled up on the edge of the bed, the cumbersome skirts slowing my progress. Turning to face him, I continued with my thought. “Do I even have power to share?”

“You will, have power, that is. The longer you do this and hone your skills, the more power you’ll accumulate. You’ve already learned that you can sense when someone is trying to use magic to manipulate you.”

“I did?”