Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,49
clenched. “Is this how you’ll punish me? Make me suffer the way your father did? An eye for an eye. Do you think I deserve that?” Something pained shook him. “Blast it, Honoria. I never meant the damage I caused. I wanted a way to get back at him for what he’d done to me. I never thought that I would infect anyone else.”
“Well, you did,” Honoria shoved him back a step, looking furious. “And now Charlie’s a blue blood because of you--”
Lena gasped, then slapped a hand against her lips and ducked beneath the edge of the skylight. This man had infected her younger brother? Tears burned in her eyes. All of the months she and Honoria had spent fighting the disease, fighting to save Charlie before the unavoidable happened. Charlie had very nearly lost control and gone for one of them before Blade finished the transformation and taught him to control his blood urges.
After that, Charlie spent months avoiding them, as though he’d still been frightened to be alone with either of them. It was only recently that he could bring himself to be near Lena, where they’d once been as close as twins.
The bastard!
“Did you hear something?” Barrons asked.
“It’s probably Esme, finishing her chores or one of the servant drones,” Honoria muttered, instruments clanging against metal. “Nobody’s awake yet who can hear us. Blade’s still in bed. Where you should be.”
“I don’t sleep much any more.”
Honoria’s tone softened. Just a hint. “You do look like hell.”
“Thank you,” Barrons replied dryly. The very politeness of their tones seemed to echo in the air. As if both knew an argument had been narrowly avoided.
“Have you made a decision?” he asked. Fabric rustled, as though he was rolling down his sleeve. “About whether you’ll help me?”
“Of course I’ll help you,” Honoria replied, sounding weary. “A part of me will never forgive you for infecting father with the craving virus – for infecting Charlie – but I’m not about to stand by and watch you become a vampire.”
“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear it. How does… How does it work?”
“I told you it’s not a cure,” Honoria warned. “Not completely. But I want you to bring your thrall’s to me to be vaccinated against the craving. When you drink their blood, it will begin to counteract the virus’s effects on your body. Your CV level’s should drop – should, I warn you. It doesn’t seem to do anything for Charlie’s, though perhaps his levels weren’t high enough in the first place.” A pause, where Lena could almost hear Honoria frowning. “I don’t know enough about the disease. I only have three subjects for research, and it’s barely been two years.”
“But it worked for Blade.”
“Yes,” she replied. “It worked for Blade, though his CV levels seem to be holding stable now. Perhaps if I had more subjects to examine--”
“Don’t.”
The sharp word dropped into the conversation like a stone. Lena eased herself up again to catch a glimpse of the tableau below.
Barrons had grabbed Honoria by the arm, his body almost ruthlessly blocking her from sight.
“What are you--”
“Whatever you do,” he warned, “don’t let word of this get out.”
“It could help a lot of people,” Honoria replied. “The Echelon execute almost five blue blood’s a year for entering the Fade. Imagine--”
“Imagine what they’ll do to get their hands on that knowledge,” he cut in with a deadly soft voice.
“That’s what Blade said.”
“Whoever holds the cure, holds the power. There are men who would kill to control that. Or to control you. The only reason the Echelon hasn’t gone to war against Blade is because they’re not sure what the losses might be like. If they had any idea of what he has, of the cure, then they’ll burn Whitechapel to the ground and take you and your research under lock and key. They’ll stick you in a laboratory, Honor, and they’ll keep you there. You’ll never see your husband or your family again.”
The ashen colour of Honoria’s face matched Lena’s own. She couldn’t stop thinking of how many people in the Warren knew Honoria’s secret. Too many. Oh, Lena trusted them all, but there were some – like Charlie – who might not see the harm in spilling mention of it.
She had to warn him to keep his mouth shut. If he’d listen to her. Sixteen seemed to be an irritating age in young men. Especially cocky young blue bloods who could outmuscle most full-grown men these days.
Below her, Honoria