Apparently, stupid chivalry was rewarded well in this city. If you survived the vampires, that was.
5
I TALKED to Bill after work the following Monday. He seemed somewhat disconcerted by my suddenly having money, which I explained to him as “a relative passed on and left me a little money, not much but more than I was expecting.”
He and Rhonda still managed to take me by surprise by the speed with which they handled the transaction. He had me back at the apartment complex that night, signing the lease and trading Rhonda my damage deposit and first month’s rent for the keys to the basement apartment.
The next step was picking up my—paltry few—belongings from the motel and checking out. By the end of the night, I was moved into my new place. And very aware I needed to go shopping, as all I had was the single mattress and base Rhonda had provided for free.
The next evening was spent opening a bank account—my first in several years—using my Wizard-provided fake identifications. It turned out I had a credit history. Wizards scared me.
Once I had the bank account and had deposited my funds into it, I went furniture-shopping. I didn’t need much, but the apartment still looked much more like home with a table, a desk and a proper bedframe in it. A computer was bought on Monday, and a quick stop into Eric’s acquired a modem that would link me to both the Internet and Fae-Net—the closed distributed network the fae used to keep in touch.
It was less than five minutes after I’d set up my connection to Fae-Net that I heard movement in my apartment. I turned to find myself facing a statuesque woman with raven-black hair that hung to her waist over a neat blue business suit who should not have been there.
I didn’t have a chance to ask what she was doing before she grabbed my hands and stepped.
My apartment was replaced with an inky black nothingness, lit by a slight glow coming off my kidnapper’s skin.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, her voice hitting buttons in the back of my head as I blinked at her. “My presence in Calgary must be kept secret.”
“Um,” I gaped. The woman was familiar, and heart-stoppingly beautiful enough to distract me from the void around us. “Where are we?” Regaining some of my composure, I demanded, “And who are you?”
“We are Between,” she said simply. “The space between worlds. You survive here by my power, or the void would take all life and warmth and breath from you, leaving you a lifeless corpse.
“As for who I am, I am disappointed,” she told me sternly, and all my breath rushed from me in one horrifying instant of recognition. “I am Mabona. Do you not recognize your Queen?”
Mabona.
Mabona. Queen of the fae.
Mabona, Mistress of Seelie and Unseelie alike. Lady of the High Court and all others. Queen in Ireland before men ever walked there. Mother and Queen to all of my kind.
I don’t remember consciously sinking to my knees, but I knelt before her. The Queen of the fae was like unto the Wizards—a true Power made flesh in the world.
“I am sorry, my Queen,” I answered her. “I was surprised, and I did not expect to ever lay eyes upon you in person.” The Queen was never seen by most fae—even among the noble fae like Oberis, they usually only saw her once, if at all. She acted through her Vassals—entire bloodlines of fae, almost always noble, bound to her service.
“I have need of your service,” she told me, and I cringed. I was hoping it wouldn’t be that. I could refuse her; it just wasn’t wise. “I need eyes and hands in this city, but the Covenants between the Powers forbid me to walk in a Wizard’s marked domain.”
“Isn’t Lord Oberis your...” She didn’t let me finish the sentence.
“Oberis serves his Court,” she snapped. “He serves the Court that answers to him, and then he serves the Seelie Lords and Ladies, and only then, at a distant third, does he serve me. I have need of a Vassal in this matter.”
There was no doubt in my mind on one thing—Queen of all fae or no, I was not signing on for that. Agreeing to Vassalhood bound me and all my descendants to her service.
“Lady, with all respect,” I said carefully, “there are many others in this city worthier of such an honor.”
“Who said anything about honor?” she answered with a cold smile, and my heart stopped at the quiet power in her voice. “By your father’s blood, Jason Kilkenny, you are mine.”
That voice ran along my nervous system like fire, yanking me to my feet to face her as she willed. Her words rang in my very veins and I knew, in my bones and my blood, that she spoke only truth.
Shit. Somehow, some way, I was a Vassal of the Queen. Shit.
“Lady,” I said slowly, trying to let the fire of her words fade out of my body. “I did not know. I would not have thought one of my weak blood would be such.” I hid behind the formality of the words. It wouldn’t do to show gut-wrenching fear in front of the Queen. Not that I thought I fooled her.
“You have not yet come to your full birthright,” she told me, “but you will serve me regardless. You have encountered the vampires in this city.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice at the moment.
“They are part of a greater plan—a full cabal has moved here, and done so without the Wizard knowing.” The Queen looked at me, and I tried and failed to avoid her gaze. She locked eyes with me and held me in her burning, inhuman, gaze. “There is a plot afoot to destroy the Magus MacDonald. You will find this plot. You will locate its perpetrators. And you will, by your hand, or Oberis’s, or MacDonald’s, whatever is necessary, see them destroyed.”
I swallowed. The void around me pressed in, cold and unforgiving and warning of the fate of those who defied the Queen.
“I am yours to command,” I said slowly, unwillingly accepting the burden she laid upon me. “If I may ask one question?”
“You may, but many answers are worth more than you can pay,” she told me bluntly.
“If my father was your Vassal, who was he?”
“He was mine, as are you,” she replied. “More it is not yet time for you to know. Go.”
She pushed, and I fell out of the Between, back into my apartment. I breathed quickly, trying not to hyperventilate.
The Queen of all fae had Marked me as her Vassal, one of the ancient bloodlines that served her. It made no sense. Those bloodlines were noble fae, or near enough for power. I was...nothing. I’d presumed my father was minor fae of some kind—a will-of-the-wisp or something similar.
And as her Vassal, I had a mission to prevent the murder of a Wizard—a demigod made flesh, a Power that walked the world.
I needed a drink.
6
I WENT TO THE MANOR, Eric’s. It’s a tradition of our kind that the Keeper is like the theoretical old Catholic priest—completely neutral and bound not to tell others what you told him. In a city with two Courts, it was the Keeper who was the intermediary. In Calgary, I was just hoping that I could talk to him without the story spreading.
I was shivering with the cold when I came in—new warm coat and gloves or not, the “chinook” had fled again and it was way too cold in this city.
“Hi, Tarva, can you get me a beer and let Eric know I need to talk to him?” I told the nymph waitress with a smile as I slid onto a barstool. She nodded and slipped away into the back.
It was a Wednesday night, and the bar was half-full. Not all of the patrons had the feel of fae or other inhumans, so I had to be careful what I said in public. Shortly after Tarva vanished into the back, I saw the door swing open and Eric glanced out, making the same assessment as me. He wasn’t as noticeable as some inhumans, but he was still better off not wandering around in full view of the mortal public.