Page 49 of Smoke & Ashes
“I dare”—Julian stepped forward boldly, her boots clicking on the cobbles—“because I am the motherfucking Prince of motherfucking Cups, and you have strayed intomydomain. It is only out of courtesy that I am not sending you back to your master in several small boxes.”
Yelena actually hissed. Vampires. I was beginning to remember why I’d had that policy against dating them.
“Oh by the way, sweeting”—I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or offended to realise she was talking to Yelena rather than to me—“did I hear right that you’re looking for the Knight boy?”
Again, no answer, just a low animal sound so disturbing even I couldn’t quite find it sexy.
“I’ll take that as a yes. He was Sebastian’s creature for years. If he has been unmolested thus far, it’s because the Prince of Wands still has use for him. Perhaps you should run home and tell him you’re not satisfied with that arrangement.” She folded her hands gently behind her back. “Perhaps now.”
Yelena took the—well I’d say hint, but it was about as subtle as a mutton vindaloo—and fled into the night, not literally licking her wounds, but coming pretty damned close.
“As for you,” Julian turned those too-blue eyes on me. “Fuck me you are a mess. Come on, we’ll get you—something. You clearly need it.”
I staggered to my feet, and she led me back to the Velvet. I wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or humiliated that she’d pulled me out the fire. Mostly I was in pain. In pain, and badly needing a piss.
21
Me & Julian
It was like old times. Apart from the broken arm, and the fact that I probably wasn’t getting laid. Probably. Although given Julian’s … well … entire personality it wouldn’t necessarily have been out of the question.
A bad idea, mind. A really bad idea.
Stay in the moment, Kate.
I was laying on the chaise longue on the upper floor of the Velvet with Julian standing a little way away. She’d dismissed the kittens, but the vampire in the minidress whose name I still didn’t know was hanging out at the top of the stair. What she thought I’d try with a busted arm I wasn't sure.
“What am I going to do with you?” Julian mused, mostly to herself. In another life, it would have been a cue for some playful banter. Now she seemed genuinely sad.
“I honestly don’t know. Why did you bail me out back there?”
“It’s inappropriate to hunt on another vampire’s territory. She needed to be reminded.”
“Even if it means offending the Prince of Wands.”
That earned me a sharp look. “Sebastian Douglas is a creature of rules. The law was on our side tonight. He won’t object.”
“There’s noourhere, Julian. And where was your law when he was trying to murder me to death?”
“On his side. Try to keep up.”
I tried to move from reclining to sitting, and immediately regretted it. “I’m slowly beginning to realise how much I hate basically all vampires. I mean, seriously, isn’t there one of you that isn’t an amoral, emotionally dysfunctional spatter of watery shit?”
“We’re undead creatures of the night who sustain our cursed existences by stealing the very living essence of the humans we will never be again. Does it surprise you that we’re all basically pricks?”
I made another attempt to sit up, more successful this time although I still felt faintly nauseous. “So what now.”
“I’ve told you I don’t know.” There was something strange about the way she looked at me. I would have liked to think that on some level it was because she regretted what had happened between us. Julian seemed like the kind of person who’d never regret anything, but I’d known her long enough and well enough to suspect that maybe the opposite was true: she regretted so much that one more terrible thing was so much noise.
Holding my arm very, very still because making any effort to move it made me want to pass out, I shuffled over to the end of the chaise longue and picked up the chalice that had been sitting on the side table for as long as I could remember. “If this turns out to be the fucking grail,” I said, “I am going to be monumentally pissed off.”
“Just a cup,” she replied. “A nice one, but purely representational.”
“Still, you know about the real thing, don’t you? Is that part of why you went for the cups motif in the first place?”
She perched herself on the end of the chaise. “That, and because it’s largely the party suit.”
“And?”
