The Cold Kiss of Death

‘I don’t know what to say, Gen,’ Fi

‘I’m not asking you to say anything, I was just telling you.’ I swallowed past the constriction in my throat. ‘It happened years ago, so it’s not important now.’ I’d been the stereotypical runaway, straight off the bus, and the vamp had been the clichéd predator, thinking he could use me as bait for a bigger prize, except, at the risk of another cliché, he discovered he’d bitten off more than he could safely swallow—Maybe we needed a change of subject. ‘Why would you think I’d be here with Tavish, anyway?’

‘What? Oh everyone knows that you and Tavish are ... courting.’

‘Tavish and I aren’t courting,’ I said, surprised, watching as I ran past the bakery, the florist’s lad turning round to stare after me. ‘We spent a bit of time together a while back, but I hadn’t seen him for at least six months until now.’

‘Gen, six months is nothing to a fae, and it doesn’t take much for gossip to start. The witches’re bad for tittle-tattle, but the fae are ten times worse. There’s not that many of us in London: the dryads, the naiads in Lake Serpentine, my own herd and the few solitary fae that hang out at the dragon’s eerie. They’re all as interested in what goes on with each other as anyone. You’re the only sidhe’— yeah and look how that was turning out—‘and you might not know any of them, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to ignore what you do.’

‘Aye, that’s true, doll.’ Tavish’s voice sounded behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder as he strolled towards me. The wound across his muscled chest had healed to no more than a faint shadow. He was dressed, sort of, in a long pair of orange silk harem pants, the beads in his hair coloured to match. He looked like he’d just walked off the set of The Arabian Nights.

‘Why are folk talking about us courting,’ I asked, wondering exactly what sort of mischief he’d been up to, ‘when we’re not and never have been?’

‘Which is what I told the Lady Meriel yesterday,’ he gri

I stared disbelievingly at him. ‘What’s it got to do with her?’

‘She’s a might bothered about the human’s death.’ He took a pair of surgical gloves from the box and snapped them on. ‘Understandable, really. She and her naiads are the easiest of London’s fae tae find.’

I frowned, puzzled. ‘What’s us courting or otherwise got to do with the human’s death?’

‘Nary a thing, doll.’ He leaned over me, his peat-whisky scent curling round me and causing my own magic to rise and heat to pool inside me. The diamond-chip cuffs flared, cutting it short. I squirmed slightly in my seat, wondering if he’d done it deliberately. He gave me an i

The news showed a crowd held back by a row of human police in riot gear, some sort of protest. A group of Soulers, their long grey tabards emblazoned with red Crusader crosses, gathered to one side; the rest were mostly women, some with kids in tow, all jumping up and down, shouting and waving handmade placards.

The camera zoomed in on one placard: HANDS OFF OUR MEN, then pa

Tavish pointed at the screen. ‘Lake Serpentine. The humans started throwing salt, then pouring bleach and petrol intae the water and setting fire tae it, until yon police came along and stopped them. There were a few casualties on both sides, but it’s mostly peaceful now.’

I leaned forward, hugging myself in disbelief. ‘This is insane.’

‘Aye, doll, insane it is. The newspapers sensationalised the human’s murder. It doesnae take much tae inflame a few bigoted people and the rest all follow like sheep,’ he muttered, almost echoing my thoughts of a few days previously. He pointed to another screen; it showed a load of naked men ru

It was more than insane. I pressed my fingers to my temples—my headache was beating against my skull now—and stared at all the screens. The florist’s boy came out and put out some buckets, stuck his lip out again and peered at himself in the shop window, then turned sharply to look down the empty street. The Soulers and the women waved their placards. Naked men splashed into the water. On another screen was a fire engine in some sort of park.

‘What’s that about?’ I pointed at the fire crew hosing down some trees.

‘A gang took a torch to the trees in Green Park,’ Fi

And something hovered at the edge of my mind—

‘And you being nae around hasnae helped, doll,’ Tavish added, derailing my thoughts. ‘Then the police-witch wouldnae hae been askin’ everyone tae look for you.’

And now I was found.

I looked across at Fi

What if it wasn’t all a set-up, but just a coincidence?

What if, despite Tavish’s assurance no gate had been opened, there was another sidhe in London?

Set-up or not, what if they killed again?

I waved at the screens. ‘You’re showing me this for a reason, aren’t you?’

Tavish swivelled the chair round so I faced him, as Fi

‘Seriously, that is not an option, Tavish,’ I sniffed. ‘No way am I sundering flesh, let alone part of my soul, to animate a temporary changeling just to get its head chopped off, and in case you haven’t heard, I’ve got 3V, so I’d be out of my mind within six months, not to mention I’ve never even been to the Fair Lands.’

‘Or,’ Tavish carried on as if I hadn’t interrupted him, ‘you could stay in Between.’

I dropped my head back. ‘Still the same problem, Tavish.’

‘No, there’s not, Gen,’ Fi

‘Di

I looked at him suspiciously. ‘What?’

He gri

Crap. He’d been testing me. ‘You could’ve asked,’ I scowled.

‘But there’s nae joy in just askin’, doll, not when I could hae a wee taste o’ your soul.’

‘Fuck you.’ I glared back at him.

‘Any time, doll, I’ve told you. An-y time!’

Movement drew my attention back to Fi