28

As luck would have it—my luck anyway—my request to see Eagan fell on the same day as his annual Winter Solstice party. When Tibbet called back and told me Eagan thought the party would be a convenient cover for the meeting, I tried to beg off and arrange another time. Eagan wouldn’t hear of it.

It had been over three years since my last invitation to the party. Three years ago, I was a sought-after party ornament. I realized after I lost my abilities that’s what it really was all about: who could get the prize guest. I was riding high then, solving big-time cases, the go-to guy for advice, and the role model for a career on a rocket. Any host who snagged me with a party invite could bask in my coveted reflected glory. Receiving Eagan’s invitation to the Solstice party put me on the must-have list for everyone else’s events. Getting dropped from his list had the opposite effect. No one wanted to preen over last year’s favorites, and now I was not even that.

The cedar-lined driveway to the Guildmaster’s mansion was a postcard-perfect Yule scene. The car headlights reflected off the snowbanks to either side, and the soft crunch of tires rolling over the snow-softened pavement evoked a warm nostalgia for winters past. At the top of the drive, the cedars ended, opening to the wide vista of the front lawn, a meadowlike expanse of untrodden white velvet. A soft yellow glow lit the windows in the house with telltale flashes of blues, pinks, and yellows from flits dancing in the air.

Dozens of cars and a few limos lined the drive, where brownie security guards jockeyed them into place. They cleared the front as my car approached, and the driver stopped at the front steps. Someone opened the rear door for me, and I got out of Eagan’s official Guildhouse limo. Eagan wanted people to notice me arrive and had used his own car to send the message that he had invited me. Whatever his reasons, he wasn’t bothering with subtlety.

Despite the cold, the front doors were flung open to the outside, framing the party within. People danced and swayed and flew in the grand hall. Enough greenery had been brought in to create a forest. Cedar and fir garlands adorned the doorways and ceiling cornices. Branches were twined around pillars and woven through the balustrades of the staircase leading to the second floor. Sprays of mistletoe hung from the enormous chandelier, and white roses overflowed from tall crystal vases. On the upper balcony overlooking the room, an orchestra played traditional Yule music with flutes.

Tibbet found me before I left the vestibule. She wore a floor-length dress in maroon velvet, her hair in a tangle of long, thin braids with amber crystals threaded through them. She wrapped her arms around me, spinning us both in a circle as we kissed, before pulling away with a huge smile on her face. “You look dashing, sir.”

Her words made me feel better about my outfit. Gone were the days of high-end designer fashion on a regular basis. I was wearing a deep violet silk jacket that I had had for years. I was actually surprised to discover I still had it. Most of the good stuff had gone long ago to consignment shops. A simple black shirt and pants finished off the outfit. People don’t notice old black unless they look more closely than they should anyway. I couldn’t not smile at Tibbet. “And you, my love, look more gorgeous than ever.”

“Promise me we will dance later?”

I slipped my arm around her. “If you promise it will be something slow.”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “Or we can just stand like this and be the envy of everyone else.”

I kissed her temple. “Thanks, Tibs. You always say the right thing.”

She smiled up at me. “Get yourself a drink and mingle. Manus is holding court by the fireplace. He said to tell you he’ll meet you upstairs later.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

She did a little twirl away and pointed at me as she slipped back into the crowd. “And we will dance, handsome.”

The bar was set up under the stuffed elephant. Around me, glances slid away before I made eye contact. The fast fall from grace meant a long climb back up, and three years was nothing in the fey world. I had made matters worse by not wanting to climb in the same direction again. It was still uncomfortable to be snubbed.

I lingered near the back of the hall in a recessed alcove by the French doors, watching Eagan greet his guests. Even though he was near a roaring fire, he had draped a blanket on his lap. Despite his pale and gaunt face, he seemed to be enjoying himself. I didn’t begrudge him the opportunity to be fawned over. He didn’t leave his house for months at a time anymore. I certainly didn’t envy him the apprehensive looks people gave him, like he was going to die any moment.

“I never pictured you as a wallflower,” someone said next to me.

With all the fey folk in the room, keeping track of body signatures was pointless. I hadn’t realized Moira Cashel was standing near me until she spoke. “I’m waiting to speak to someone.”

Moira was decked out as only the rich fey could be. She wore a midnight blue gown shot with white crystals and an evening wrap of gossamer-thin white cloth. More jewels glittered on pins in her hair—true diamonds and sapphires. A glamour completed the outfit, a soft, gauzy halo of golden light that made her look like she floated in a cloud of sunshine. There was no denying she looked incredible or—for that matter—that she knew she did. She sidled closer. “If only it were me,” she said.

I glanced down at her. “What do you want, Moira?”

She lifted a champagne glass to her lips. “I think the moment you could do something for me passed in your apartment, Connor.”

I chuckled. “Yes, well, if you need a good lay, I’m sure you can find someone else here.”

She gave me a tight smile. “Bastard.”

I shrugged. “You’re not the first to call me that, so I’ll ask you again. What do you want, Moira?”

Essence rippled as her face shifted to Amy Sullivan’s softer jawline, and her hair lightened. “A piece of the past, Connor. A piece of me that I’m afraid doesn’t exist anymore. Can you look at this face and feel nothing?”

“Oh, I feel something all right, just not what you intend. I’m going to walk away if you don’t stop using that glamour,” I said.

Tears—real ones, I think—sprang into her eyes. “Why? Because I’m destroying some kind of delusion you had by revealing that perfect Amy Sullivan was more than you knew? That she was a woman with a life and a home that you knew nothing about? That she was in pain, and you appeared at the right moment?”

“I did not seduce you,” I said.

A cold light crept into her eyes. “We seduced each other, Connor. You may not have been a man yet, but you weren’t a child either. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

I shook my head and laughed in disbelief. “If you were a man, I’d knock you on your ass for that. You know nothing about what was between me and Amy. You’re just a manipulative creature from Tara working for an egomaniac who’s afraid that I know she’s responsible for what happened here on Samhain.”

She seemed genuinely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

I stepped closer to her, forcing her to step back against the wall. “Maeve abandoned us to save her own precious skin, and if not for me, this entire city would have died, too. So spare me the feeble little guilt trip about who I slept with years ago. If you really are Amy, then you made your bed and, yeah, you slept in it. And if you want to get in bed with Maeve now, you’ll suffer the consequences. I don’t give a damn, and I sure as hell am not going to fall for whatever game you’re playing now.”

Tears flowed free. She slapped me across the face. “You are a bastard.”

I frowned. “Yeah, well, maybe you helped make me one.”

“What the hell is this?”

Moira gasped and extinguished the Amy glamour. Behind us in a formal tuxedo, Commissioner Scott Murdock looked more angry than I had ever seen him. He wasn’t looking at me, but at Moira. “Commissioner, I’m sorry if—” I began.

“Shut up, Grey.” He shoved me aside and grabbed Moira by the arm. “I asked you a question.”

“Scott, I—” she began.

He shook her. “Scott, is it? Scott?”

I pulled at his coat. “Commissioner, I can explain.”

He dropped his hand, then grabbed me by the shirt and pushed me against the wall. “What game do you think you’re playing with me, boy? Is this another Guild game to make me a fool?”

I’d seen the commissioner angry before, even angry at me, but this came out of the blue. “Excuse me?”

Moira grabbed his arm. “Scott, stop it.”

“I think stopping this is very good advice, Commissioner.” Tibbet’s voice was low and sharp. Behind her, two brownie security guards waited with polite expressions on their faces.

The commissioner released me with a shove. A few guests had noticed the commotion but were pretending they hadn’t. Tibbet tilted her head down and toward one shoulder as if listening to something behind her. “The Guildmaster requests that you join him in his study in a few moments, Commissioner. My assistants will provide you with whatever you need in the meantime.”

Scott Murdock adjusted his jacket. “Tell Eagan I’m leaving. I will speak to him tomorrow.”

Tibbet clasped her hands at her waist. “I respect that desire, sir. However, I believe it will take some time to retrieve your vehicle, and I am sure you would not wish to break protocol and neglect to thank your host while you wait.”

The commissioner set his jaw and glared at Moira. “Get this . . . person away from me, then.”

Tibbet nodded with a smile at Moira. “Please wait in the back hall until I arrive, will you?”

Moira had gone pale. “Do extend my regrets to Manus, but I believe it best I retire for the evening.”

Tibbet’s smile tightened. “This is the Guildmaster’s house, Cashel. Your presence is not a request.”

Tibbet took my arm and led me through the great hall. She smiled as we eased our way through the crowd and toward the fireplace. A servant was helping Eagan to his feet.

Are you okay? Tibbet sent.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I have no idea what that was about,” I said.

Manus is furious. It’s not good for him. Please try to keep him calm, she sent.

“I will,” I said.

We followed Eagan and the servant into the back hall. Moira waited there, but Eagan ignored her as we passed through double doors that the servant opened. Moira wouldn’t meet my eyes and looked like she wanted to escape.

The servant helped Eagan to an armchair by the lit fireplace. The study had a classic décor of dark wood, expensive leather couches, and stained-glass lamps, and miles of bookcases filled with books on subjects both fey and human. As the servant adjusted the blanket on Eagan’s lap, the old man brushed him away. “That’s enough. If you and Tibbet will wait outside please.”

Tibbet gave me a significant glance as she left to remind me what she had said. I squeezed her hand. Eagan leaned back in the corner of the chair and shook his head. “It’s never dull around here. There’s a flask behind that curtain over there. Could you get it for me?”

I went to the window he indicated and found a small glass flask on the floor hidden by the brocade drapery. “Who the hell hides all these flasks for you?”

He grinned around the neck of the bottle, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “That’s a secret. And speaking of, I assume you have something to report?”

I nodded. “How familiar are you with the crackdown in the Weird?”

A cryptic look spread over his features. “I get reports.”

I spun an antique globe on a stand near the wall. “Are you aware that the Boston P.D. has turned over all security to Guild agents?”

“Out of political necessity, I had to allow Guild agents to act under civilian authority. The Boston police are powerless against the fey. You know that,” he said.

I nodded. “Some of their actions are going beyond the law—civilian or Guild. Complaints to the police are referred to the Guild and complaints to the Guild are ignored.”

A sly smile slid onto his face. “I know you, Grey. You’ve been complaining about that for some time.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been complaining about neglect. This is different. The Guild agents down there are actively breaking the law. They’re encouraging a turf war between the solitaries and the Dead. It’s going to explode if they don’t back off.”

Eagan frowned. “And the Boston police are involved?”

I glanced at him. “Human officers have been ordered to stand aside and let the Guild do what it wants. I personally saw Commissioner Murdock meet secretly with a leading perpetrator among the Dead.”

Eagan rubbed at his chin. “What do you make of it?”

I smiled at him. “If you ask the Guild, they’re acting on your orders.”

Eagan chuckled softly to himself. “And when there is blood on the ground, macGoren can blame me and gain the support of the solitaries at the same time. How much time do you think I have?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s reached a crisis point.”

Eagan hummed to himself. “It seems I may have to put in an appearance downtown and shake things up a bit. I had hoped to spoil their plans once they had Vize in custody, but I suppose I can adjust.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “What does Vize have to do with it?”

Eagan leaned his head back, his eyebrows raised in thought. “Everything, of course. The solitaries have been hiding him for Bastian Frye. MacGoren is using the Dead to find him, particularly a miscreant named Jark. Matters seem to have gotten out of hand. I didn’t anticipate the human police colluding with macGoren. An excellent move on his part, though he seems to have overplayed it. That’s always been macGoren’s flaw—his unwavering surety in the perfection of his plans.”

My feet felt rooted to the floor. “I can’t believe you let this happen.”

Eagan shrugged. “I didn’t let anything happen. The whole point of a black ops program is in its unprovability. I couldn’t stop it unless I knew the identities of macGoren’s agents, and that I was still working on. Unfortunately, Jark killed my inside agent before she could expose them.”

Jark killed his inside agent. The statement sank in with a sense of disbelief at what I was hearing and what it meant. “Are you talking about Sekka?”

Eagan barely suppressed a look of exasperation. “Of course, Grey. Why do you think I called you in the first place? When Sekka disappeared the same night Jark’s body turned up, I wanted to keep tabs on your investigation.”

I shook my head with a touch of anger that I had completely missed the connection. “And you had Keeva bury the Guild notice that Sekka was a Consortium agent to keep her Guild double-agent status secure, didn’t you?”

He tapped his knee in acknowledgment. “And had the damnedest time getting her to do it.”

“You used me,” I said.

He managed to look indignant and amused at the same time. “I most certainly did not. You took on Sekka’s murder case before I spoke to you. I gave you a complete choice in the matter. I merely covered my bases.”

I laughed. The man amazed me. “You’re right. I take it back.”

He grinned. “I’ll have to deal with this tomorrow. Something tells me the commissioner is in no mood to discuss his failings tonight.” He gestured at the door. “Now, tell me. Why have two of my guests felt inclined to lay hands on you?”

“Moira I insulted. I have no idea what the commissioner’s problem is.”

Eagan chuckled again. “I should chastise you for being a rude guest, but that minx has been spying on me for weeks. She’s quite the amateur. I expect better court intrigue from Maeve. She disappoints, she does.”

I bowed my head. “I apologize anyway.”

He acknowledged it with a nod. Eagan might have been pleased I had annoyed Moira, but he still liked the niceties of protocol. “Let’s see what they have to say for themselves,” he said.

A weak sending fluttered in the air, and the doors opened. Moira entered first, her expression firmly angry. She glared at me as she moved to the side of the room and bowed extravagantly toward Eagan. “You have my deepest apologies, Guildmaster. I was provoked in the situation. Allow me to make it up to my host.”

Eagan hummed. “I’ve already spoken to Mr. Grey and will deal with him as fitting. I will think on your apology. Stay a moment, will you, Moira? I would like your presence while I speak to my other guest.”

Moira bowed again as the commissioner strode in without acknowledging either of us. Tibbet closed the doors behind him. I will be right outside, she sent.

“What do you want, Eagan?” the commissioner asked.

Eagan put on a tolerant smile. “Pray, have a seat, Commissioner, and let us sort through this disruption of my house.”

“I apologize for involving you in a personal matter. I’m leaving now. Thank you.” He turned and stopped short, obviously making eye contact with Moira over my shoulder.

Eagan didn’t change his expression. “I appreciate that, Commissioner, but I believe you owe an apology elsewhere as well.”

The commissioner’s gaze shifted to me. “I’ll be god-damned before you get an apology from me, Grey.”

Eagan spoke to the commissioner’s back. “I will be the judge of that in my own home, Commissioner. What is the meaning of this?”

Moira stepped forward. “This is all a misunderstanding, Manus. We should not take any more time from you.”

Eagan rocked his head against his chair. “I don’t think so, Moira. I invited Grey here, and both of you laid hands on him. I am not pleased.”

The commissioner stepped toward me. “Where do you think you’re going with this? I will cut you off at the knees, you miserable piece of shit.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

He grabbed the lapel of my jacket. “I am going to ask you one more time: What little plan did the two of you come up with?”

Eagan struggled to his feet. “Unhand him now, Commissioner.”

Moira pushed herself in front of me, forcing the commissioner back. He didn’t let go. I reached up to pry his hand away. Moira shoved him back. “Knock it off, Scott. He didn’t know,” she said. Only she used Amy’s voice.

The commissioner backhanded her across the face. “Don’t you dare use her voice,” he said.

The door opened behind me as Moira fell back into my arms. In the blink of an eye, Tibbet was in the center of the room. Her eyes were huge, and her fingers elongated and tipped with claws. She didn’t speak, but I felt sendings fluttering in the air. Tibbet went to Eagan’s side and gently forced him back into his chair.

“What the hell is going on here?” Eagan said.

The commissioner faced Eagan. “She’s betraying you, Eagan. Setting you up to take a fall and using me to do it.”

Moira moved toward the commissioner, her body shield flickering around her as a bitter, angry glint sparked in her eye. “He’s lying, Manus. Scott Murdock has been blackmailing the Guild to force his political agenda down in the Weird. He’s been taking money to let Guild agents operate in the Weird without human oversight. I’ve been trying to convince Ryan macGoren it’s a trap. He’s going to let you take the fall when things get out of control. This man hates us, Manus. He hates all the fey. It amuses him to get paid to watch them kill each other down in the Weird, all because once upon a time, his pride and ego were damaged by a woman.”

“Stop using her voice,” the commissioner said through gritted teeth.

Moira’s face shifted, a ripple of light and color cascading over her. Amy’s face resolved into focus. “It’s my voice, Scott, and I will use it. You’re not going to silence me ever again.”

“You are not her,” the commissioner said.

Moira laughed, an unattractive sneer on her face. “Oh, but I am, Scott. I would have been satisfied to watch you lose your precious reputation, and no one had to know why except you. But you had to make a scene. So finish it, little man. Tell them what I did to you and what you did to me.”

Blood drained from the commissioner’s face as he began to tremble. “Shut your mouth.”

Moira shook her head. “Never again, Scott.” She tilted her head toward Eagan. “This man put a gun to my head and threatened to shoot me and my children if I didn’t leave, Manus. He was so horrified that he had married a fey that he was willing to commit murder to hide it from the humans.”

The floor felt as if it shifted under me, as the reality of what she said sank in. “Holy shit,” I whispered.

“You bitch,” the commissioner said. A gun appeared in his hand before anyone registered his movement. Tibbet came forward as I yanked Moira back. Eagan shouted.

The gun went off.

The flash blinded me. The crackle of essence-fire burned in the air. Something slammed into my face, a searing hot blow beneath my right eye. Pain lanced through my head, then a wash of cold ran down my body. My knees collapsed. Fluid filled my throat as I fell. I coughed a spray of blood into the air. I tried to inhale but choked as more blood entered my lungs. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred. The room spun in a smear of color and

everything

went

white

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