Death's Ethereal Enemy: Mystery (January Chevalier Supernatural Mysteries Book 4) Page 5

  “Looks like you’re stuck doing it the old fashioned way,” she muttered, stabbing herself in the eye with a mascara wand and cursing. Water ran down her cheek and she glared at the black smudge across her eye. All this for a bunch of stuck-up elite. Someone had better do something soon to warrant being added to her bounty hunting list, or she was going to go crazy.

  Chateau Du Cygne was situated in the countryside, a little way from Bruges. It was the kind of imposing building you’d expect to be on every tourist’s sightseeing map, but somehow, it had been kept a secret. The estate was bordered with tall evergreens that concealed the towering chateau from view, and there were strict warnings to trespassers all over the estate. It didn’t escape January’s attention, as they drove up the long, winding driveway in the deepening twilight, that there were defence spells woven all the way around the border. She had been tempted to see how long it would take her to undo them, but the little voice in her head had reminded her that she was supposed to be obeying the rules, biding her time until she’d learnt all the secrets she needed in order to strike.

  Secrets she didn’t have a clue about finding.

  Since meeting Max and Cadence, she hadn’t seen or heard anything about The Clan. They had become shadows, operating the same way they always had. January didn’t even know how many of them there were, or what they’d done with Leah - let alone how to fight them and win!

  Here she was, being chauffeur driven to yet another ridiculously grand affair with a coffin containing Gregory in the seat next to her. It was a farcical situation to be in.

  January harrumphed and settled lower in her seat as the car finally came to a stop outside of the castle.

  “Another day, another overpriced pile of stones,” she muttered, and unless she was much mistaken, she heard a chuckle from the inside of the coffin. “Go back to sleep. You enjoy these things far too much,” she told Gregory.

  “You don’t think it’s that bad really, do you?”

  She looked up to discover that the door to the car had been opened. A man with short, pale blonde hair and some curious darker stubble and eyebrows stood there with an eyebrow raised.

  Not a man, January mentally corrected. He was a vampire. One who could walk in the daylight. He was a member of The Clan.

  He kept his eyes on her while she made her assessment. Although the Old Ones were supposed to have started the race of vampires, and possess their qualities themselves, the quality of their creations had definitely diminished since they were made. The light smell of decay January associated with vampires wasn’t present around these older types. Max and Cadence had both looked fairly pale, but this man had a tan that imparted a strangely alive look. It was hard to remember that he was one of the oldest things she’d ever spoken to.

  “I’m not a big fan of socialising,” she confessed, feeling ridiculous. She stepped out of the car and stood, a little way away from the Old One.

  “It may be shocking for you, but I can tell,” he said and actually smiled at her.

  January felt her teeth compress together. It was beyond strange to be having a normal conversation with someone who’d conspired to kill her. Someone who could possess powers she didn’t know about.

  When that little thought ran across her mind, the man’s face broke into a smile. Was he another mind reader, like Max? Or was he something else? She didn’t know if it had been a coincidence or not.

  “I’m January,” she said, grudgingly being the first to introduce herself, despite knowing it was hardly necessary.

  “I’m Emerson. I’ve watched you for a long time, but it’s lovely to finally meet you.” He said it so casually, it almost didn’t sound creepy.

  January shot him a wary look. She’d learned enough from her past experiences to know that the comment probably wasn’t an idle one. Could this first vampire be the reason why The Clan seemed to know so much about where she was and what she was doing? She thought it was likely.

  “It’s interesting to meet you, too,” she said, carefully keeping her thoughts as quiet as possible. “Will the others be joining us?” she asked, secretly hoping that Emerson might be loose-lipped enough to let her know exactly how many other members of The Clan there were.

  It was a piece of cake for something as old as he was to see straight through her casual question. “I’m a surprise guest. Our hosts are royalty. They’re some of our most esteemed allies, but they still don’t know about us,” he said, his voice full of implication. “It should stay that way.”

  January heard his warning loud and clear. “So, you’re just another envoy.”

  He inclined his head. “One who would like to get to know you better. Perhaps you’ll even have fun tonight. I’m sorry your usual colleague isn’t doing a very good job.”

  There was something both interesting and concerning about the way he said it. January was both looking at an eons old vampire and a very attractive, blonde-haired man, with ice blue eyes that seemed to see both her and events, far away. She wasn’t sure how to feel. The only thing she knew was that he was definitely her enemy.

  “There is nothing wrong with my company. She’s just a stay-at-home unicorn,” Gregory said, pushing open the lid of his coffin and stepping out into the darkness of the evening, already clothed in an immaculate suit. It was almost as nice as the one worn by Emerson.

  “What are you wearing?” Emerson asked her, completely ignoring Gregory. For once, a slight against Gregory annoyed her. She knew that to this vampire, he was a mere child, but she didn’t like people who only bothered with those they found interesting or wanted something from. It was a sign of bad character.

  All the same, she gestured down to her dress - a red satin gown that was fit for the red carpet.

  He looked unimpressed and shook his head. “There’s something better in your room. Put it on and we’ll meet in the lobby before being greeted.”

  January just had a moment to reflect how strange it was to be greeted by royalty, rather than the other way around, before she was whisked off upstairs to an incredibly grand bedroom. A dress that surely belonged in the pages of history books, when wealthy rulers could afford to spend the earth on clothing, sat on a dummy.

  January wasted a few seconds just looking at it. She didn’t care about fashion, but this dress was beyond that. It was a work of art.

  The satin train was a delicate shade of icy blue and the bodice was encrusted with sapphires, sewn on in spiralling patterns. Lace more delicate than January had ever seen adorned the top of the skirt and skated across the shoulders, like foam on the sea.

  January wondered who the dress had been made for. Ten minutes later, when the servants had tied her into it, she was forced to conclude it was for her. Surely there was no other way a dress could fit so well? The servants left her alone in the room and she gazed at herself in the mirror, wondering at the woman in the reflection who looked back at her.

  “I knew it was worth it,” a voice from behind her said.

  She spun around but there was no one there. Little by little, an apparition formed, until the person in front of her might have been flesh and blood. She experimentally put out a hand. It went straight through an arm.

  “Well, that’s just rude,” Emerson said with a lopsided smile.

  “How are you here?” she asked, dread already settling in her heart at the answer she’d already perceived.

  “I’m everywhere… when I want to be. I can find anyone and be anywhere. It’s sort of like… astral travel. Everyone’s got their own signature and I simply find it and find them. But I’m getting carried away. You’re not curious about my secrets, are you?” he said, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

  January shook her head, playing the role of the compliant bounty hunter.

  Emerson smirked a little. “I knew it was worth it to see you in this dress.” He moved closer, laying his weightless hands on her shoulders. “We make quite a striking couple, don’t we?”

  January looked in t
he mirror, seeing the way their pale blonde hair nearly matched. Emerson’s was a shade or so darker and his tan skin contrasted with her ever-pale complexion. She reflected that if someone was asked to pick who was the vampire out of the two of them, they’d probably choose her.

  “Are you Cadence’s brother?” she asked, ignoring his last words.

  The satisfied look on Emerson’s face vanished for a split second. “She’s my sister. Not quite so gifted as I am, but doesn’t that tend to be the case with the second sibling?” He looked at her with such knowing, she knew he had her own sister in mind.

  “I think it all depends on the circumstances and the siblings,” she said, trying to be non-committal. She was not getting personal with this vampire.

  “I’ll see you downstairs,” Emerson said. His hands that weren’t there lingered on her shoulders for a moment. She looked into his eyes and saw the blue ice chips warm, just a moment before the apparition dissolved.

  January resolved to feel nothing, no matter what happened. She would never be able to out-play the Old Ones. Her only chance would be to do something unexpected, but how could you achieve a feat like that when faced with beings who’d seen the world change since they’d walked the earth? They had witnessed everything. There were surely no surprises left.

  January bit her lip. It really was a very nice dress.

  Emerson and Gregory were waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her when she walked down, feeling like a teenager who’s just had a makeover before prom. Gregory’s mouth nearly fell open, but Emerson remained composed, showing no sign that he’d just visited her in her room.

  “The royals will be impressed. Nothing like you has ever walked through that door,” he said, slipping his arm through hers.

  January gritted her teeth and accepted it, making sure she didn’t look at Gregory. She could practically see the tension coming off him and knew that Emerson could, too, by the way that sideways smile stayed pinned to his face. He outranked the Witchwood head vampire and was taking all the privileges he could get.

  January’s first opportunity to talk to Gregory came after dessert had been served. The vampires had eaten, too - only not food. January privately thought it must be boring having to subsist off blood and miss out on things like cake and chocolate. She’d enjoyed a beautiful chocolate mousse, consisting of dark, white, and milk chocolate layers, topped with a miniature sugar sculpture, coated in gold leaf. It had been beautiful.

  It had been small.

  January had watched, disbelieving when the women on the other side of the room glanced down at their servings and ignored them in favour of talking. It hadn't been too difficult for January to figure out Simon’s net spell that he’d used to capture Jinx and gently float the mousses across the room to herself, shrouding them in a magical shield, so the casual observer wouldn’t witness two desserts flying through the air. Emerson had spotted them when they were halfway across the grand hall and had shot her an amused, but exasperated, look. January had ignored him and immensely enjoyed her ill-gotten gains. The chatting women never noticed what they’d lost.

  “This is ridiculous,” Gregory whispered in her ear once Emerson seemed to be deeply immersed in conversation with someone January thought might be a king. A king of what, though, she had no idea.

  “Which part of it?” she hissed back.

  “Emerson. Why is he here? The whole point of us doing these events is so that they don’t have to. Perhaps we’re being checked.”

  January tilted her head. “He wouldn’t need to be here personally to check up on us.”

  Gregory shot her an alarmed look but didn’t ask for an explanation.

  “I just want to know what’s going on. What’s the dress all about?” he said, glancing down at the beautiful outfit January was wearing.

  “Showing off, I suppose. Isn’t that what vampires like to do?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. Across the room, Emerson looked up from his conversation and smiled her way. For a worrying moment, January felt a small blush rise to her cheeks.

  “You have got to be joking,” Gregory said, disgusted. He threw down his napkin and stood up from the table, walking out of the hall.

  January stood up, too, now that dessert was over. This was the part where she was supposed to socialise with anyone who wanted to talk to her, but for once, her appearance had been overshadowed by Emerson. He’d told her that no one here knew who he really was, but they surely knew he was someone. The most important people in the room had gravitated towards the ancient vampire and even those further away, were acting like satellites, pulled into his orbit.

  “January, come over here!” he called, his voice light and casual, the way he always contrived to make it.

  She wondered if it would change if she decided to ignore him. She shook herself. Now wasn’t the time for petty rebellion. Playing her part, she pasted on an interested smile and walked over to meet royalty.

  “Where’s Gregory?” Emerson quietly asked, when someone else in the circle was talking.

  January shrugged and then winced when she thought about how unsuitable that gesture was in a dress like the one she was wearing. “He went out. Maybe he wanted some fresh air,” she invented, unsure why she was covering for him, when he’d been rude all evening.

  Emerson just smiled in response before raising his voice. “Unfortunately, I am here for a reason beyond the pleasure of sharing your good company. A grave situation has arisen, and tonight it must be resolved in a final manner.” He clicked his fingers and the main doors swung open. A man, struggling in the grip of two leopard-shifter guards was dragged in, loudly protesting that this was all a setup.

  Something dried up in January’s mouth. For the first time ever, she regretted having extra dessert.

  “My liege, you were concerned that personal information about your family had been leaked to those who would use it for ill purposes. As per our agreement, we have found the one responsible and are ready to give you your justice,” Emerson said.

  He turned to face January. “There’s a drawing room just outside of the main hall. It would be a shame to spoil that dress.”

  She nodded, mutely, before walking out of the hall. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. It was true that earlier today she’d wished for someone to kill - just like in the good old days - to vent her frustration, but this was different. The man they’d just dragged across the room was 100% human.

  “I’ve never killed a normal person before,” she muttered, feeling all kinds of panic.

  “Vampires are people, too,” she looked up to find that Gregory was sat in a sumptuous looking armchair on the other side of the drawing room.

  “I know,” January confessed. She’d once thought otherwise, but meeting Gregory had changed her mind. Sure, he was conniving and manipulative, but he was also loyal and had saved her life more than once. More than that, he was even occasionally thoughtful. Although, his thoughtful gifts had usually coincided with an attempt to upset someone else close to her, she allowed.

  All the same, she knew she wasn’t the same cold-blooded bounty hunter she’d once been. Feelings had got in the way, and she’d realised that she may not be the ‘good guy’ after all.

  “I’ve never killed a human. It’s murder,” she explained.

  She’d come close to it before. When Lewis, a drummer she’d once been in a band with, had tried to stab her, if Gregory hadn’t arrived, she had no doubt he’d have wound up dead by her hand instead. But that would have been in self defence. The same went for the wolf bounty hunters she’d killed. Right now, her life wasn’t under threat, and she was being asked to kill someone, just because she’d been told to.

  “You’d better do it,” Gregory said, his eyes flashing a warning. She knew him well enough to see that he was scared. Someone bigger and badder than him had come along, and he valued his life enough to be a good dog and obey the master’s commands. January had never coped well with authority.

  “Fine, but I
don’t like it. It’s blood on my hands that’s hard to wash off. I don’t know where this body will end up. All of this could one day come back to me,” she protested.

  Gregory gave her an incredulous look. “So what if it does? You’re an enchanter. There’s not a prison in the world that could hold you,” he told her.

  “That’s not actually true,” a new voice said.

  They both turned to look at the apparition of Emerson that had just appeared across the room. “I wondered what was taking you so long. Our guests are growing impatient and the sentenced is not going gracefully, I’m afraid.” He sighed at how inconsiderate the condemned man was. “Hurry up, or I’ll stay and make sure you hurry.”

  “How do we know you’re not watching anyway?” Gregory said, visibly furious and shaken, all at the same time.

  Emerson smiled that ever-present smile of his. “You don’t,” he said and faded away.

  Gregory looked at her in silent horror once he’d gone. The tingling sensation on the back of January’s neck warned her that he was still present, somewhere in the room. She shot a quelling look at Gregory, hoping he'd keep whatever he’d been planning to say next to himself. They would have to figure out a way to speak privately another time. Leah had done it once before, she remembered, thinking back to the band practice room Leah had warded, so no one could listen in, or spy.

  “It’s not as if he hasn’t seen it all before,” she said, feeling annoyed all the same, as she stripped off the dress. After a second’s thought, she flung it haphazardly over the back of a sofa. Let Emerson think about that. If he thought he could buy her compliance with a dress, he was wrong.

  Gregory’s eyes showed warmth in that moment. January shot him a disbelieving look before changing into a unicorn. Had he really ever contemplated that she might be drawn in by Emerson?