A Stroke Of Midnight

“Then why am I coming?”

“So that when the press follow us around we can stand shoulder to shoulder and show that you are helping solve this case. And bring the officer who shot at me with you.”

“Why in the name of God?”

“Because his career is ruined unless he gets a chance at this, too.”

“Won’t he be a danger to you?”

“We’ll give him a charm to help bolster his psychic shields. If I think he’s too fragile for the duty, I’ll let you know and we’ll escort him out.”

“Why do you care what happens to one young uniformed cop?”

“Because he could have gone his whole career and not ever had anything like this happen to him, if he’d only stayed away from the faeries. The least we can try and do is minimize the damage.”

“I’ll make calls now, but you puzzle me, Princess Meredith. You’re almost too nice to be true.” He hung up.

I put the phone back in its cradle. Too nice to be true. My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them. I wondered if he’d taken his own advice that summer’s day, or if he’d hesitated because someone facing him had been his friend. I would have given a great deal to find the person in question, and ask him.

CHAPTER 6

THERE WAS ANOTHER PHONE CALL I WANTED TO MAKE. I LOOKED at Christine’s smiling, pleasant face, and said, “Can you wait outside for a moment, Christine?”

She blinked big blue eyes at me, but took a deep breath, stood up, rustled out her full skirts, and left without a word. I couldn’t tell if I’d offended her, but then she was always hard to read. That she could smile and smile through everything the queen did in front of her always made me wonder about her. Did she enjoy the queen’s little shows, or did she not know what else to do?

With Christine gone I was left with Doyle, Barinthus, and Usna. Frost, Galen, Hawthorne, and Adair were at the door to make sure we weren’t interrupted. Besides, the office just wasn’t large enough for all of us. Not comfortably anyway. I trusted everyone but Usna. I didn’t know him well enough to trust him.

“Usna, wait out in the hall,” I said.

He gave me a little smile, but he didn’t argue. He just hesitated by the door. “Do you want me to send someone else to take my place?”

I thought about it, and said, “Galen.”

He gave a little bow, then opened the door and told Galen to come in. Galen looked a question at me as he closed the door behind him.

“I’m going to call Gillett.”

Galen was shaking his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Who is Gillett?” Barinthus asked.

“He was one of the federal agents who investigated Prince Essus’s murder,” Doyle said.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you remember that, but I am,” I said.

Doyle looked at me, and his face was unreadable, dark and closed to me. “Gillett was the most persistent of all the human investigators.”

I nodded. “Yes, he was.”

“You’ve been in touch with him?” Doyle asked.

“More like he kept in touch with me, Doyle. I was seventeen, and he seemed to be the only one who wanted to solve my father’s murder more than he wanted to obey the queen or his superiors.”

Doyle took in a lot of air, and let it out slow. “And Galen knew of this?”

“Yes,” Galen said.

“And it never occurred to you to tell your captain that the princess was keeping in touch with a federal officer?”

“It made Merry feel better, and just after Essus died, I’d have done anything to help her feel better.”

“And after that?” Doyle asked.

“They exchanged cards twice a year, that was all.”

Doyle turned his dark gaze to me. I shrugged, then wished I hadn’t because it hurt. “He sent me a card every year around the a

“How did no one notice this?” Doyle asked.

“The queen didn’t care enough about me to pay attention, and you paid attention where the queen told you to. You all did.”

He rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “How badly does your arm hurt?”

“It aches.”

He took in air again, then let it out slow. “You need to rest, Princess.”

“You’re not mad at me or Galen,” I said. “You’re angry with yourself for not knowing this.”

“Yes,” he said with the tiniest edge of anger.

“When my father died, what other guard could I have trusted but Galen?”

“Did you not trust me?” Barinthus said.

I looked at him, my father’s closest friend. “You were almost as distraught over his death as I was, Barinthus. I needed someone who was touched by grief but not consumed by it. Galen was that person for me.” I reached out to Galen, and he took my hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“If you could marry where your heart lies,” Doyle said, “I fear what it would do to the court.”

I looked at him, trying to see behind his careful face. I squeezed Galen’s hand and drew him in against me. Once, Doyle would have been correct. Once it was Galen in my heart and no other, but that was before I grew up enough to understand what it would mean to be at my side. It was a dangerous place to be, a treacherous place to be.

I hugged him not because he was the only name written across my heart now, but because he no longer was. A part of me was saddened by that, and another part of me was almost relieved. I understood what my father had known decades ago: for Galen the title of king would be a death sentence. I needed someone hard and dangerous by my side, not gentle and placating.

I looked into Doyle’s face as I held Galen to me. Did Doyle not know that my heart’s list had grown larger, and that his name was on that list? The way he was acting, he seemed jealous, or envious, or angry. He was hiding his emotions so well that I couldn’t decide what emotion he was hiding, just that it was something strong that he didn’t want to share. Even being able to see that much meant the Darkness’s legendary control was slipping.

“I’m going to call Gillett.” I turned back to the phone, and since I had only one good hand, I had to let go of Galen. He kept himself touching the back of my body, his body insinuated against me. He fit against me as he always had, as if he’d been born to be there. If all I’d ever wanted in my bed was gentle lovemaking, then Galen would have been wonderful, but we’d had months in bed to discover that his idea of passion and mine did not match. He did not understand my desire for roughness, or pain, or just simply being a little more forceful. Galen gave me pale, uncomprehending eyes when I asked certain things.

I dialed Gillett’s number by heart, though his number had changed over the years. I’d always had to memorize it for fear of someone caring enough to look through any address book I might have. I could have saved my worry; Doyle’s reaction had shown plainly that no one had been paying me that close attention. It was a little sad, and a little frustrating. So much wasted effort in hiding from people who weren’t even looking.

I waited for Gillette’s cell phone to ring. I’d promised him that if anyone else ever died in circumstances similar to my father’s, I’d let him know. These weren’t really that similar, but a promise is a promise. I felt half silly and half excited, as if somehow just being able to make this one call would change things. I was over thirty, but part of me was still seventeen and wanted justice. I should have known better by now.

He answered, “Gillett.”

“Hey,” I said.

“Merry?”

“Yes.”

“Are you all right?”

Over the years he’d become protective of me. As if he felt some debt to my dead father to keep me well. If he only knew, but I hadn’t shared all the attempts on my life. The endless duels that made me flee faerie for years and let everyone think I was gone for good.