The Curse of the Wolf Girl (60 page)

“I was expecting a last minute hitch,” Verasa told Markus, “but it all seems to be going smoothly.”

Markus agreed. Everything had been taken care of. Catering was readied, cameras were in place, the stage was satisfactory; every detail appeared to be in order, right down to Felicori’s favorite brand of mineral water. In around twelve hours’ time, Andamair House should be full, and Felicori would step on stage in front of a packed audience of guests who’d paid extremely handsomely for the privilege. Verasa would be well on the way to hosting one of the most prestigious fundraising events ever seen in Scotland.

“Thank you for working so hard, Markus,” she said, and put her arms round him in an affectionate embrace.

There was one cloud on the horizon for Markus. Beatrice hadn’t been due to attend, not being a senior enough member of the clan to be automatically invited. She’d told Markus that she’d be away on the night, visiting her family, who lived in a small village east of the castle. Unexpectedly, on learning of this, Verasa had chided Markus, telling him that he really should take Beatrice to Andamair House. Verasa liked Beatrice and regarded her as a suitable companion for Markus on the night. Markus had duly invited her, and Beatrice was thrilled.

Unfortunately, reflected Markus, things might become complicated. Heather MacAllister would be there too. As the set designer, she was one of the small crew of working werewolves who’d be on site all night. That could be awkward. Markus had been juggling his relationships. Neither Beatrice nor Heather knew about each other. They weren’t going to be very pleased to find out. Nor would his mother. Nor would Baron MacAllister, if he chose to attend.

Markus chafed and thought to himself that the Thane of the MacRinnalchs really shouldn’t have to worry about offending the family because of a minor complication like having two girlfriends at the same event. It seemed, however, that he did.

Markus wasn’t even sure which of them he liked best. Heather MacAllister was definitely a more suitable companion intellectually: a brighter sort of werewolf. But Beatrice was pleasant as well, in her own way. And, on the plus side, she was now quite enthusiastic about Markus’s liking for female clothes, something of which Heather was not yet aware.

Markus didn’t know what to do and decided he’d just hope for the best. It was possible that Heather would be so busy and Beatrice so distracted by the power of Felicori’s voice that they wouldn’t encounter each other. He’d survived such tricky situations before, once or twice, by dint of luck and by his charm, and perhaps that would carry him through again.

Kalix woke up in the middle of the night with a dull headache. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but her increased intake of laudanum had rendered her drowsy. The room was dark, but Kalix’s wolf-like eyes could see perfectly. Decembrius was asleep beside her. She looked at him for a few seconds without expression. She rose silently and, without making the slightest sound, dressed quickly, then slipped from the bedroom into the only other room in the small flat. Decembrius’s wallet was on the table. Kalix emptied it, taking the few pounds and shoving them deep into the pocket of her old jeans. She checked that her keys, bus pass, and her laudanum were in her coat pockets then left in silence. Kalix had no feelings about sleeping with Decembrius; her thoughts were directed solely towards the treacherous Dominil.

Kalix found a night bus stop and waited, eager to get home, though anxious lest she was at the wrong stop. Kalix could make out bus numbers but still struggled to read the destinations on the bus stops. She sometimes worried about taking the wrong bus on an unfamiliar route or boarding the bus on the wrong side of the road and traveling in the opposite direction. A bus arrived before long, and she stepped on. Even on the night bus, where people’s gazes were directed mainly to the floor, her unkempt appearance drew some attention. Kalix didn’t notice. She stared at her boots, her eyes narrowed in rage. A small twitch made the corner of her mouth vibrate.

* * *

It was three in the morning when Kalix arrived home.

Vex was sitting on the couch watching cartoons. “Hi Kalix! Been having a good time?”

“I need to get to Edinburgh right away. Can you take me there?”

“How?”

“You can teleport.”

“Afraid not,” said Vex. “I can hardly take myself anywhere, and I can’t carry anyone else.”

Kalix was disappointed. She knew Vex wasn’t powerful like Queen Malveria but had been hoping her powers might have increased. “I’ll have to get a train. Do you have any money?”

Vex shook her head. Every penny she had had gone towards the emergency house fund for paying bills, as had everyone else’s.

“Why are you going to Edinburgh? Are you going to see Yum Yum Sugary Snacks? If you’re going, I’m going too.”

“I’m not going to the gig.”

“Are you going to the opera?”

Kalix made a rude remark about the opera. “I’m going to see Dominil. She killed Gawain.”

“Dominil? Are you sure?”

“Sure enough. I need money. Where’s Moonglow?”

Vex shrugged. “She went out with Daniel and some friends to the pictures. They didn’t come back. Do you think they might be—”

“I don’t care what they’re doing. Where did Moonglow put the money for the bills?”

“Upstairs in her room. But you can’t take that. Moonglow will go crazy.”

Kalix shrugged. “I need it.”

Vex followed Kalix upstairs to Moonglow’s room. Moonglow had put money for various bills in a series of envelopes on the desk beside her computer. Kalix emptied each one of them, stuffing the notes into her pockets.

“I don’t think this is the best idea,” said Vex. “Moonglow said if we didn’t pay these bills, disaster would follow.”

“She’ll think of something. Moonglow’s smart.”

“Daniel said he couldn’t raise another penny.”

“I don’t care,” snarled Kalix. “I’m taking it anyway.”

Watching Kalix take the money, Vex became agitated. Though the young Fire Elemental also struggled with the idea of acting responsibly, Moonglow had managed to impress on her the importance of paying the bills. Vague thoughts of having their phone, gas, and electricity cut off floated into her mind, along with the ever-present terror of her aunt taking her out of college. “You know Aunt Malvie will blame me for this?”

“Sorry,” said Kalix. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

“You’ll miss our exam. All your work will be wasted.”

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t you banned from going to Scotland? Your clan will kill you.”

“My clan can do what they like,” said Kalix, “after I’ve seen Dominil.”

“Are you going to kill her?”

Kalix didn’t answer. “I have to go now.”

Vex moved in front of her. “Kalix, I know you get cranky when I read your aura, but…”

“What?”

Vex saw that Kalix had slept with Decembrius. She decided not to mention it. “Eh…nothing. But something really bad is going to happen if you take this money and go to Edinburgh.”

“Is that in my aura?”

“No.” Vex shook her head. “But it’s obvious anyway. Can’t you just stay here and keep on pretending to be normal?”

Kalix was surprised. Vex’s reading of emotions was more acute than she’d realized. “You knew about that? Well, I’m giving up pretending to be normal. I was never very good at it. I need to leave now.”

She reached out to push Vex roughly out of the way then pulled back. “Please move out of the way. I don’t want to push you.”

Vex very glumly stepped aside.

Kalix left the room without looking back, and her boots clattered on the wooden stairs as she left the flat and walked out into the dark night.

There was an unusual amount of traffic between the dimension of the Fire Elementals and the Earth. Not only had the Fire Queen and Princess Kabachetka made the journey, but the princess’s brother had too, brought there very unwillingly by his consort, Lady Krimsich. Prince Esarax’s indignation at being dragged away from his regiment was heightened by the princess’s insistence that he dress formally, so he spent the early part of the evening looking stiff, uncomfortable, and out of place.

Lady Krimsich, however, was thrilled to be there and talked endlessly to the princess in an excited whisper. “This is a wonderful occasion. Such splendid fashion everywhere. I am so looking forward to the music, Princess. Really, we must make this a regular engagement and come to the opera together often.”

“We must indeed,” replied the princess, meanwhile thinking that if things went according to plan, Krimsich would be disposed of quickly, and good riddance to her.

Malveria brought Iskiline with her as a companion, knowing that the enchantress would be there with Captain Easterly and not wishing to risk being left on her own. Not that that was likely to happen, given Malveria’s social skills, but one never knew. As she said to Thrix, “one does not want to be left standing alone like a grape.”

“You mean lemon.”

“Are lemons lonelier than grapes?”

“I’d say so.”

“I suppose grapes do tend to come in bunches. Like MacRinnalchs. Did you have a pleasant talk with your mother and Markus?”

Thrix made a face. Shortly after arriving, she’d been shepherded to a corner of the room by her mother and lectured, along with Markus, on the importance of them getting along better. Thrix, feeling very uncomfortable, had gazed into the middle distance, as had Markus. It was a long time since Thrix and Markus had gotten along well; almost never in their adult lives.

“You’ve never told me the cause of your argument. Whatever the reason, I won’t have it any longer. I had four children, and the eldest is dead. As for my youngest…who knows how Kalix will end up? But I won’t have this constant unpleasantness. Your father has gone now and we’re the family. That means something to me, do you understand?”

Markus and Thrix mumbled that, yes, they did understand. Thrix had found the whole experience intolerable. She’d never enjoyed being lectured by her mother and, despite her own power and achievements, never managed to take it lightly. Verasa could be very intimidating.

“That’s all I have to say. Whatever you argued about in the past, it’s time to forget it and start getting on. Now I’ll leave you two to talk.” Verasa walked off, leaving her two offspring wondering how long they had to remain in each other’s company before they could decently leave.

The source of their original argument was too painful to broach. It was all very well their mother telling them to make it up, but even the mention of it was bound to infuriate Markus. Long ago, Thrix had discovered Markus’s liking for female clothes and mocked him for it, quite cruelly. Markus had hated her ever since.

Thrix regretted it. If she’d discovered it now, after a long career in the fashion world, she would have taken it in stride, but she’d been young at the time and unprepared for such a discovery about her older brother. When she tried to apologize, years later, Markus had refused to accept it and simply became angrier that she’d dared to bring up the subject. It seemed like a wound that couldn’t be healed.

“Mother’s gone off with some sponsors,” grunted Markus. With that, he left, not looking back.

Thrix returned to Malveria and gulped down a glass of wine.

Malveria took a tiny mirror from her bag and examined her lips. “They are never perfect. It is a trial. Dearest Enchantress, may I presume that things are going famously with Easterly?”

“Yes,” replied Thrix, immediately.

The Fire Queen looked relieved. “But I do detect some distraction?”

“I was thinking about Susi Surmata.”

“It is vexing. She must write about you.”

“Now Dominil has me thinking she’s a werewolf hunter, which is another worry.”

“Well,” said Malveria, “if she is a werewolf hunter, I have no doubt you will dispatch her, as you have dispatched many others. And we will find someone else to write about your beautiful clothes.”

“You’re more confident than me. I don’t like it, Malveria. There seems to be a lot of hunter activity going on at the moment. I’m wondering if this event might attract some unwelcome visitors.”

“Here in Scotland? Unlikely, surely. Who could attack you? You are far too strong.”

“I suppose so,” said Thrix, “although it would put a bit of a dampener on Mother’s event if it ends up with werewolves and hunters running all over the place. And I don’t like it that Kabachetka is here. Remember what she did before? She removed our sorcery and left us vulnerable to Sarapen.”

“True. A vile act for which I have not forgiven her. But we cannot be caught like that again, Enchantress. We are forewarned. I have protected us against any conceivable attack that Kabachetka could mount. There is nothing to worry about, I assure you.” Malveria accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Andamair House looks splendid. Markus has done a wonderful job of preparation. I really feel, Enchantress, that the fates are turning in our favor. Mark my words, by this time next week, you will have received an enormous order for clothes, and I will be the leading photograph in
Vogue
’s Fashionable Party People page. Nothing can go wrong.”

Malveria turned round, emitted a cry of anguish, and abruptly fainted.

Thrix looked down at her, puzzled and alarmed. “Malveria? What’s the matter?” Thrix bent down to cradle her friend’s head. “Malveria?”

“I just saw Kabachetka,” gasped the queen, struggling to get her words out. “She is wearing the new Abukenti shoes!”

“What?” Thrix let go of Malveria’s head and whirled around. There was Kabachetka, swanning her way towards them.

“Malveria, get up. Don’t let her see you fainted.”

The Fire Queen struggled to her feet. “It is a great effort, Enchantress. Support me in case I lose consciousness again.”

Princess Kabachetka passed gracefully through the gathering crowds, drawing admiring looks for her brilliant blond hair and elegant evening dress. It wasn’t just her appearance. There was something about her, an air of complete self-assurance; the air of a woman who knew she was wearing the best shoes in the building.