Skate nodded. “He didn’t exactly explain what would happen, though.”
“Your intuition served you well.”
“You’re not mad.”
“Not at all. There will be a mess to clean up, to be sure, but nothing world-shattering.”
“I meant about me lying to you.”
Belamy scratched a piece of burnt skin, which flaked off. “No, I’m not mad. You were on the streets, and you did what you had to do in order to survive. Of course you kept that from me, especially once I decided to set myself up against them. How could I be mad, anyway? You defended my home. You chose to protect me at great personal cost. There’s honor in that—far more than any you could have possibly lost by simply choosing to survive.” He knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder a second time. “I’m proud, not angry.”
Skate looked down. “Oh.” She couldn’t say anything else. She felt her cheeks flushing and warmth pouring over her ears.
Mercifully, Belamy took his hand away and stood back up. “You need to leave now, Skate.”
A coldness had crept into his voice. The Iron Wind was speaking to her, and he was looking behind her, pale eye narrowed and jaw set. She turned to see a very unwelcome sight: the Big Boss entering the courtyard, flanked by two bodyguards. His too-large eyes scanned the damage done to the shops with only passing interest. As he approached the three of them, he handed off his cane and hat to one bodyguard, and his coat to the other.
“Barrison Belamy.” His voice was calm and cold, as it had been when he was talking to her, but there was a note of something else in his tone that she couldn’t tease out yet. “The Iron Wind at battle again.”
A member of the Guard ran up to their location. “You lot, clear out of—” The bodyguard holding the coat spun around and hit the approaching man with so much force that the Guardsman’s leather cap flew a dozen feet through the air. The man fell to the ground and did not move.
The Big Boss continued as if there had been no interruption. “I must admit, I’m impressed. I really did think that five of them would have been enough to handle you. My mistake.” He picked at something underneath one of his nails, and Belamy’s eye went wide.
“Hugo.”
Skate turned to the wizard. “You know the Big Boss?”
Belamy said nothing, too stunned to do anything but stare in disbelief. The Big Boss chuckled and said, “Oh yes, he knows me of old. Old mates, we are. Eh, Colonel Barry?”
The use of the nickname shook Belamy out of shock enough to finally respond. “You’re dead, Hugo.”
“Oh, Barry,” the Big Boss said, pursing his lips in condescension, “no more than you. Why you waited until you were so decrepit to make the change, I have no idea.” He laughed again, this time revealing all of his pearly white teeth. His canines seemed to elongate as he spoke. “Luckily, I wasn’t so foolish as that.”
Belamy regained his composure, and the face of iron returned. “A vampire, Hugo? You were willing to sell your soul to a monster in order to avoid dying?”
“Turns out, it was well worth the deal. I got her in the end, and it left me free to do whatever I wished. And what I wished was to become important in a large city. I think I’ve done pretty well so far.”
Skate’s foot bumped into a building. She had been backing away from the Big Boss in horror since she’d seen his teeth. She pressed her back up against the wall, willing herself to disappear into the room behind—anything to put more distance between herself and the vampire. Twitch’s stories filled her mind, ghastly images of blood and terror that took the strength from her legs.
“How are you standing here? It’s midday. The clouds are not thick enough to protect you; you should be burning in the light of the sun.”
“Oh, I bypassed that hindrance long ago. Before I even founded my little group, in fact. When you’ve pledged your service to me, I might let you in on the secret. After all, eternity is a long time, is it not? I’m sure we’d run out of other topics of conversation eventually.”
At that moment, a hand grabbed Skate by the arm and pulled her up. She shrieked, imagining a set of teeth puncturing her neck—and indeed, there was something sharp pressing against her throat.
“Hello again, girlie.” Kite held her in front of him with knife poised to strike, his arm across her chest and clasped at the shoulder.
Hugo tilted his head. “I think the threat hardly needs saying at this point, does it?”
Belamy stood where he was, eyes darting from Skate to Kite to the knife. “Hugo, this is madness. She has nothing to do with this.”
“On the contrary, she’s got everything to do with it. She’s how I found you. The fact that her fate concerns you at all is proof enough that her death isn’t a price you’re willing to pay. So, you agree to come along, and we’ll keep her nice and safe.”
Belamy said nothing for what felt like a long time. When he did speak, the hardness had not left his voice, but he spoke in a low tone that made it difficult to hear. “And I would just have to take your word for it?”
“I’m sure we could arrange some form of visitations or something. Once or twice a year, just to prove that she’s safe.” Hugo’s eyes twinkled as he spoke, and a hint of a smile cracked his pallid face. “I could do a lot with you working for me, Barrison. We’ll own the whole city within a few years, with every nobleman and merchant prince either in our purse or under our boots. From there, we start working toward the rest of the kingdom; then we spread out from there. We’ve got nothing but time, right?” He crossed his arms, waiting for a reply.
Belamy said nothing, but his hands were twitching behind his back and his mouth was moving wordlessly. He opened his mouth a final time and a shriek rang out right in Skate’s ear. Kite dropped the knife and pushed her forward. No, not pushed, she realized—he just knocked into her as he began to slap at his hands, his chest, his face.
“Oh God, get them off, get them—”
Then two things happened at the same time:
Rattle tackled her to the ground and crouched protectively over her, its spider-like legs forming a wide-barred cage around her. Kite, who was still slapping and scratching at something only he could see, was knocked over by someone much smaller than he, wearing gray rags and with a streak of blond hair showing on top of his head.
“Twitch!” Skate tried to get to the tussle but couldn’t fit between Rattle’s legs; it kept closing them wherever she tried to bolt through. Kite, for his part, seemed intent on swatting away whatever he thought was on him. He did manage to break free of Twitch’s grasp and elbow the boy in the nose, though.
Twitch fell back with a hand on his face while Kite scrambled up to his feet.
“Help me, help—” Kite cut his words short with a strangled gasp and brought his hands to his neck.
Belamy had his hand outstretched toward the young man, and Skate let out a gasp when she turned her attention toward the wizard. He looked almost unrecognizable. His face was twisted into a grimace of hatred only made more horrible by the charred black burn arcing up one side of his face and the dead blindness of his good eye. He flung up his hand, and Kite flew into the air, kicking feebly as he clawed at his constricted throat. Already, he was turning red from the strain and lack of air.