King's Gambit (13 page)

“I don’t give a flying fuck who that is,” I groused, watching my phone vibrate on the nightstand, “but if they don’t stop calling, I’m blowing the phone up.”

My anger dissipated somewhat as Alex tightened his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder and said, “Turn off the vibrating.”

“Never in my life has that been a good idea.”

“I’m not talking about your sex toys,” he mumbled against my skin.

I rolled over to face him. He looked deliciously sexed up; his short, black hair was sticking up at odd angles, making him look like a disheveled teenage heartthrob, and his deep, blue eyes seemed endless. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks from his recent exertions, and I wondered if I looked even half as perfect. I pulled the blankets up to peek down at our naked bodies. Yes, I am indeed a child. A magic child.

“What are you doing?”

“Peeping. Hey!” I glared at him as he pulled the covers back over us.

“Why look when you can touch?” He cupped my face with both hands and kissed me, tracing my lower lip with his tongue. Before we could go any farther, my phone started rattling again. Alex groaned, the sound sexier than it should have been. “Maybe you
should
blow it up.”

I fumbled blindly for my phone and checked the screen. The number was blocked, which meant it was probably a vampire. It could have been anybody, but again, pattern recognition.

“Hello?” I said, squirming as Alex nipped at my neck and slid his hands, well, everywhere.

“Morgan Maxwell?” a female voice said.

“Who is this?”

“I’m calling on behalf of Mistress Zhen Zhu-Li, magical advisor to Flavius Virsinia, King of New York. She requests the pleasure of your presence tonight.”

For the love of God, can’t I have an all-night sex romp in peace? “What is this concerning?”

“As you may know, the Mistress is investigating the assassination of parliament member Robert Franklin. You were present last night and were able to stab one of the attackers, yes? You made one bleed?”

I groaned out something that sounded like an affirmation and turned my back on Alex, the stupid tease. “When does she need to see me?”

“At your earliest convenience. After all, this
is
a murder investigation,” the woman said, disapproval filtering clearly through the speaker. “If you have a specific time in mind, we could make an appointment.”

Urgh, may as well get this over with. “Two hours?”

The woman gave me the address and hung up without so much as a goodbye.

“We still have some time, then,” Alex said, placing kisses along my spine.

“Sadly, no.” I pried myself away from my bed and boyfriend, holding back an audible whimper at the loss. “It’s going to take some time to get to Long Island, and I’d rather not meet the magical dragon lady smelling all sexed up.”

He stretched deliciously across the bed. “Can I come with you?”

“To shower?” I called over my shoulder as I looked for the remnants of my dress.

“To meet Elise.”

“No, not her. Zhen Zhu-Li, the other magical dragon lady. Crap, I gave my shoe to Elise, and Zhen wants my clothes from the party.”

“Give her another pair.”

“That was the only pair that matched this dress.”

He rolled his eyes. “Morgan.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “So, are we having shower sex or not?”

Zhen Zhu-Li’s estate rested in a ritzy, private neighborhood on Long Island. It was situated farther along the path than her neighbors’, like those old, creepy mansions in horror movies, which did nothing to help the “abandon all hope” vibe the area was giving off. Once we took the upward path past the last normal house, it was as if we’d stepped onto Mount Doom. When we completed our trek up to the house, a hooded figure wearing a heavy robe led us past the barren, stone courtyard into the main house.

“A lot of staff here,” Alex noted, his eyes looking over the hooded figures scurrying around the courtyard.

“Mistress Zhen houses many magical apprentices,” our guide said.

“Is everyone here a mage?” I asked.

“Yes, Miss.” The figure gestured to the main house. “This way.”

From outside, the building radiated an understated opulence. It was built with wood covered in render and was decorated with red and blue tiles. Large, square windows glowed with a golden light, but their glass was cloudy and opaque, making it impossible to see inside.

The interior was spacious and opened into the garden outside. On one side of the garden was a large pond surrounded by smooth, round stones. On the other side were neat rows of plants – potion ingredients, most likely. I found myself a bit envious. Sure, it was easier to just buy the ingredients, but I did it out of necessity more than preference; my thumb was more black than green. Behind the plots stood a large willow tree, its imposing silhouette nude for the winter. Scattered around were a plethora of bushes, the vibrant colors of the few flowers that managed to hang on despite the season adding life to the dark tableau.

Sitting at a table overlooking the garden was a small, thin woman. As we approached her, I saw she was Asian, with delicate features and hooded eyes. Her hair was liquid midnight, tied in a loose bun. In contrast to the basic up-do, she wore elaborate red silk robes styled to match the ancient Chinese royal families. Her nails were colored a ruby red and her lips were painted in just as vivid a color. Zhen Zhu-Li emanated wisdom and controlled power, but unlike Elise, her aura was that of a woman who would strike you down where you stood, rather than one who relished being the most erudite person in the room.

“May I offer you something to drink?” she asked as we sat down and introduced ourselves. Her voice was cultured, with the slightest hints of an accent – possibly northern China, though I couldn’t be sure. “Tea, perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” I said as politely as possible. I’d bet good money she poisons her tea. The reminder of my first meeting with Alex had me grinning, and I made a note to tell him my theory on the way home.

Silliness aside, there was something about Zhen that made me uneasy, something that told – rather, screamed – at me not to trust her. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t blinked the entire time I’d been watching her.

Her eyes slid over to Alex, and I swore I could hear the sound of a creaking door at the movement. “Are you to be the city’s newest hunter, Mister Campbell?”

“Uh,” he stammered and looked at me as I tried to hold in my laughter. A caught off guard Alex was a cute Alex. “I’m just here visiting.”

“Alex had some free time,” I said, deciding to put him out of his misery, “and decided to come help me find more information on Lucas. Did the king mention him to you?” Bam, two birds, one stone.

Zhen slid her eyes back to me, and I understood why Alex had stumbled over his words like a nervous prom date; it was like being under the world’s coldest microscope. “He did. Last night. I have sent out a few feelers, but his name is not particularly rare nor is it a well-known alias. Whatever his actions, he seems to be quite adept at keeping himself unknown – not an easy feat, even in our world.”

“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “He’s real talented.”

“I admit, I find it rather curious – how did you come across this man’s path?”

Man
. I had put an end to two of his plots, but we’d spent less than an hour together. With all the ideas I had of him, with all I’d seen him achieve, it was hard to imagine him as just a man. But that’s what he was, right? A man turned vampire, a man who decided to pledge his allegiance to evil. The realization that he was just a person settled me down, making me realize he could be killed as easily as any other creature I hunted. It also terrified me; he managed to infiltrate and disrupt two Order cities, what else could he do?

“He’s wanted for the murder of the head of the Maxwell family,” said Alex.

“Ah, yes, I heard the news. My condolences. For such a heinous crime, I’m surprised the Order hasn’t tracked him down yet.”

I crossed my arms, trying to keep an ugly scowl from marring my face. “For all we know, he’s just lurking around in crow form.”

“Shapeshifting? Curious…” she said, wrinkles marring her porcelain skin. I think I just found the only other person in this city incapable of raising one brow at a time. As petty as it was, I liked her more now.

“Don’t most infernalists have that ability?” Alex asked. “As a gift from their demonic masters?”

“I imagine so,” she said. “Shapeshifting falls under the purview of the Garou and Protean; to be able to cross boundaries like that…I suppose that’s why infernalists do it: to cross boundaries nature did not mean for them to cross.”

“I wonder how it’s decided,” I said. “What animal they’ll transform into. Do they choose, does the demon decide, or is it random? Maybe it’s based on the caster’s nature? Though if that was the case, Lucas would’ve shifted into a rat or a snake,” I added, nostrils flaring.

“It is rather fascinating, isn’t it? However, considering the abhorrent nature of these beings, I doubt I would ever get the chance to study them closely.”

“So, the official party line is ‘We deny all interest in infernalist talents and have no desire whatsoever to dissect and study them.”

“Quite.” No reaction. Wow, even Iron Lady Elise’s lips would’ve twitched.

“While we’re here,” Alex said, “I was wondering if there had been any reports from your people about break-ins or disturbed wards? As magical advisor to the king, you are the unofficial leader of the magic users of this city, correct?”

“The vampiric ones, yes,” she said with an edge before quickly regulating to her normal voice. “And they haven’t. Why?”

“Talk around town,” I said, dropping another dollar in the lie jar. “A few mages have come to me saying their homes have been broken into. Must be a human thing, or ‘human,’ depending on where you stand on the whole magical ability thing.”

“I see,” she drawled, eyes sliding between me and Alex. “Plenty of mysteries abound: Lucas, Robert, and now these break-ins. Dark days for magic users, it seems.”

I handed her my clothes and dummy shoes. “The clothing you asked for.”

Zhen waved her hand and a dark skinned woman appeared from the other room. Unlike the magical advisor and her other servants, her attire was more practical: dark pants tucked into black boots and a maroon, long-sleeved turtleneck. Her hair was cut short and her brown eyes narrowed when they landed on me. I noticed the labored breathing and strange shuffling walk as she moved toward us and wondered what kind of activity a mage would partake in that could lead to such an injury.

Wait.
Me.

“Julia will take your belongings.”

Julia gave a curt nod, glare still in place, and held out her hand. I pulled the clothes back slightly, sending out magical feelers in an attempt to scan her over.

“Don’t do that,” she hissed, snatching the clothes from me.

“I remember the person who led us here saying everyone in your home is a mage,” I said, sliding my leg over to tap against Alex’s.

“Of course,” said Zhen. “I’d have no use for them, otherwise.”

“How many people are here?” asked Alex.

Julia frowned and said something to Zhen in Mandarin. For the first time in ten minutes, Zhen blinked.

Then, Julia whipped her arm out and a dagger embedded itself into Alex’s chest.

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