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‘Back off,’ one of the men snarled, turning away from the woman to face him. ‘This isn’t none of your business, nor your part of town neither.’
‘It’s my business if I choose to make it my business.’ Kai advanced down the alley towards the group, automatically assessing them as his father’s arms-masters had trained him to. The men were muscular in the shoulders, well built, but both showed signs of a paunch and dissipation. He could take them, just as he’d taken others of their kind a few days before.
The free man advanced towards him, fists up in a crude boxer’s stance. He was lighter on his feet than Kai had expected, but not fast enough. He bluffed with his right fist, then tried a straight left at Kai’s jaw. Kai side-stepped, slammed his hand sideways into the man’s kidneys, kicked him in the back of the knee to take him off-balance and ran his head into the wall. The man went down.
‘Now don’t be like that,’ the other man said, backing deeper into the alley and holding the woman in front of him like a shield. Panic was starting to show in his eyes. ‘You just walk away and nobody gets hurt …’
‘You just let go of that woman,’ Kai corrected him, ‘and you don’t get hurt.’ He walked forward, considering his openings. A dodge to the side and a strike to the man’s neck might be the least risky option for the woman, and yet—
‘Now,’ a voice said from above.
Doors slammed open on either side of him and behind him, and at the same moment something fell from above, tumbling down towards him in a knot of shadows. Kai dived to one side on instinct, but then there were too many men in the alley with him. A dozen of them, the combat-trained part of his mind noted, and more behind those open doors. He had no room to dodge and it looked like a trap. They didn’t even hang back and let other people take the first blows, in the normal manner of thugs. They came charging in, most of them bare-handed, but a couple with knuckledusters or small weighted saps.
He had to get back and out. There was no shame to it. Part of a warrior’s training was acknowledging superior force and reacting appropriately. An arm came around his neck from behind. He grabbed it, went down on one knee and flung the man over his head and into the ones closing in on him. Staying low, he pivoted, bringing a foot round and scything another combatant’s feet from under him. He used the momentum to turn and rise. Four men were between him and the way out. Four obstacles to remove.
Vale’s case must be important to warrant this sort of interference.
Kai noted the coils of the net, which had barely missed him, tangled on the street. It was a nasty piece of work, with metal woven into the ropes. Curious. Why go to this trouble to snare him personally? If they had already caught Vale, they would regret it.
He slammed an elbow backwards, feeling the jolt as it connected with a chin, and started forward at a swinging run. At least one of the men in front of him should back away …
He didn’t expect them to all come at him at once, like a sudden human tidal wave. He struck high for a throat, and then low to a groin - disabling blows. But they weren’t going down. They felt the pain, they grunted, they staggered, but they were still in his path.
A blow took him across the back of the head in a sudden burst of pain, and his attempted nerve-strike lost its force as he went down on one knee. He knew that he was a sitting target, but for that moment his muscles wouldn’t respond.
Another man hit him in the face. He spat blood.
A man behind him threw himself on top of Kai, bringing him down to the filthy pavement. Kai struggled for breath, sparks still dancing in his vision. He could feel pure fury running in his veins now. How dare these humans assault him like this?
There was no room in him for fear. It was not possible that this scum could win.
He felt his natural body assert itself, his hands becoming claws, scales beginning to trace their way across his skin, as his true nature rose with that fury. He would call up the river against them, he would scour them from this London, he would make them pay for this insolence. Across London, he felt the Thames and all its tributaries stir in response to his anger. He might be the least and youngest of his father’s sons, but he was still a dragon of the royal house. With an uncoiling shove he thrust backwards, forcing the thug from his back and away, and pushed himself up, teeth bared in a snarl.
More bodies hit him and took him down, heavy hands pinning his wrists to the pavement. His claws left marks in it as he struggled for leverage. For the first time he felt a prickle of doubt. Perhaps it would be wiser to fully take on his true form, one that they could not possibly restrain. It would alert all London that a dragon walked in their midst, but if he should lose …
A hand snarled itself in his hair, pulling his head back, and he felt cold metal snap shut around his neck. And now abruptly there was the ferocious, electric tang of Fae magic in the air, locked around him, binding him. He cried out in sudden shock as the distant rivers faded and were gone from his senses, as his fingers, now purely human, scraped against the concrete.
‘That should do it.’ That cold voice was the first time that anyone had spoken during the whole attack, and it was the last thing Kai heard. There was one final blow to his head, and then he surrendered to unconsciousness.
CHAPTER ONE
The night before …
It was a pity about the poison in her wine glass, Irene reflected. The underground room was hot, and a glass of chilled wine would have been refreshing.
She hadn’t needed Kai’s murmur from behind her shoulder. She’d been watching the crow-masked man in the mirror. His real name was Charles Melancourt, and they’d both been hunting for the same book for the last few weeks. He was the agent for a Russian buyer. Irene was an agent for the Library. They’d both run into each other often enough while investigating the same sources, and he had certainly recognized her in spite of her mask, just as she had recognized him.
The bidding finished for the current item, a set of gold-plated dice with rubies as the points, and there was a gentle ripple of applause. Everyone was masked, even the waiters carrying round the trays of food and wine. This auction wasn’t exactly illegal, but it was certainly dubious. The patrons included eccentrics, the very rich and a large number of people who had lawyers just to prove how absolutely not guilty they were. (Of anything.) Ether-lamps burned on the walls, casting a white glare on the room. It made the beading on the expensive dresses and military decorations glitter as much as the items on auction. She’d recognized some of London’s Fae too, behind their masks. But Lord Silver, their unofficial leader, wasn’t present - a fact for which she was extremely grateful.
Irene had gained entrance with Vale’s help. It didn’t hurt to be a personal friend of London’s greatest detective. In return she’d promised to make sure that she and Kai were out of the place before midnight, before a scheduled police raid happened. A promise she intended to keep. She’d spent the last few months in this alternate world building a cover identity as a freelance translator, and having a criminal record would be inconvenient.
‘Next item,’ the auctioneer droned. ‘One copy of Abraham or “Bram” Stoker’s La Sorciere, based on the book of the same name by Jules Michelet. We are sure that our guests don’t need to be reminded that this book was banned by the British Government. And the Church denounced it on the grounds of public indecency and heresy. No doubt it’ll provide the buyer with something entertaining to read, ha-ha.’ Her laugh lacked anything resembling humour. ‘Sold as part of an anonymous estate. Bidding starts at one thousand pounds. Do I hear any bids?’
Irene raised her hand. So did Melancourt.
‘Lady in the black domino, one thousand pounds,’ the auctioneer intoned.
‘One thousand five hundred!’ Melancourt called out.
