Back at the courts we were met by Garvin.
"No luck?"
"They were prepared," said Amber, "maybe even organised."
"That's a new development," Garvin commented. "Did you track them?"
"No point. They were settled in, but they knew we'd found them. We could go back when it's quiet, see if they return for what's left, but they've stolen what they had. My guess is they'll just steal some more. It's easier and safer than risking an ambush."
"So we wait," said Garvin.
"They'll pop up again. Their kind can't keep their heads down for long."
"Let's hope they don't pop up in a way that's public and violent."
It occurred to me that Garvin was more concerned about the publicity than the violence. He turned to me.
"Blackbird asked if you'd go and see her when you got back. I think she has another lesson planned."
"Where is she?"
"She was heading out to the courtyard, but she might be back inside by now."
"I'll go and find her."
Amber accompanied me as far as the stairs up to our rooms.
"Listen, thanks for not telling Garvin I messed up back there," I said to her.
"If I had told him, what good would it have done? You need to stop worrying about screwing up and focus on the job in hand. Garvin's the least of your worries. He's not going to crack your skull open with an iron bar."
"Even so, you could have told him and you didn't. I'm grateful."
"Don't get the idea that I'm on your side, Dogstar. I'm on my side. Always."
"I'll try and remember that."
"Go to your lesson. Seems like you need it."
I watched her retreating back as she walked away. Was she going soft on me? It was hard to imagine — Amber was an ice-cold exterior wrapped around an ice cold interior. Nothing touched her.
It left me wondering why she'd built such a wall around herself.
I found Blackbird upstairs sat on our bed. I glanced towards the darkened side-room where the door was ajar so that she could keep an ear out for our son. All was quiet, which I took as a good sign.
"Garvin said you were looking for me?" I said.
"Did he?" Her answer was curt. She'd been in a funny mood earlier and my absence didn't seem to have improved it.
I tried again. "Did you want me for something?"
"How was your trip? Did you find what you were looking for?" The question was lightly framed, and felt as if it should hold some hidden meaning, but I couldn't fathom it.
"No. I messed it up, well sort of. We were intercepted by some hoodies who wanted to mug us. Amber dealt with them."
"More to add to the body count?" she said stiffly.
"She scared them off, actually. She's not as bad as you make out."
"One Warder is much like another, I find."
That was a little pointed. "Does that include me?"
"I don't know, does it?" She was folding and unfolding a nappy on her lap, as if she couldn't get it right but couldn't stop until it was.
"Have I done something wrong?" I asked.
"How would I know? I haven't seen you all day," she said.
"Garvin said you wanted to have another session with me," I suggested.
"Have you done any of the exercises I set you last time?"
"I did try when I was waiting for Katherine, but I haven't had much chance to practice."
"That would be a no, then. Too busy galavanting around the country chasing hoodies, ex-wives and wayward daughters, I expect," she said.
This wasn't the time to ask if Alex was back. "No, it's just that I've been busy."
"Well," she tossed the nappy to one side, letting it fall haphazardly across the bed, "there's not much point in teaching you things if you're not going to practice, is there?"
"It's not that I don't want to," I said. "There are only so many hours in the day, you know?"
"I'm well aware of how many hours there are in a day."
"I'll try and find some time to practice later, maybe you could help me?" I suggested.
"Of course. I'd love to sit there and watch while you concentrate on creating stillness. I can't wait, thought the excitement may be too much for me."
"OK, then. I'll do it alone."
"Like you do everything else?" she said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm simply remarking that your approach may not be as inclusive as it could be."
"Is this because I went out with Amber? You're not jealous, surely?"
"Why would I be jealous? What is there to be jealous of?" She brushed imaginary specks from her skirt.
"Nothing. If you think there's something between Amber and me you've got entirely the wrong end of the stick."
"I never said anything about Amber. It was you that mentioned her," she pointed out.
"Well, there isn't anything, OK?" I was feeling like I'd done something wrong, though I didn't know what.
"Whatever you say," she said.
"What do I have to do to prove that there isn't anything?"
"Well you could stop protesting about it. Drawing attention to it only makes it seem worse than it is."
"There isn't anything to draw attention to," I said.
"So you say."
"Is something the matter?" I tried to keep my enquiry neutral.
"With me? Why should any thing be the matter?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. You're acting strange, that's all."
"I'm acting strange? I expect it's probably my hormones."
"That might explain it."
She stood up, genuinely angry. "How dare you! What gives you the right to blame your conduct on my body? You know nothing about it. What makes you think you're so damned perfect?"
"Keep your voice down, you'll wake the baby. I only meant…"
"Meant what? That I'm not in command of my feelings because there are chemicals in my bloodstream? That I can't be expected to control myself because I'm female? Who do you think you are?"
"I wasn't meaning that. You're the one who keeps going on about how being pregnant changed everything. How do you expect me to know how it feels?"
"You can't possibly know how it feels. You swan off here and there, doing what you like when you like, you never offer to change him or look after him while I go out."
"Where do you want to go?"
"None of your damned business! I've been going to places and doing what I wanted to do since before you were born. Why should I have to tell you where I'm going?"
"You only had to ask," I protested.
"Ask? Why do I have to ask? Do I need your permission now? Is that what you think, that I'm sitting here like your bloody secretary, waiting for you to give me permission to leave?"
"No, I just meant that if you let me know you wanted to go out, I would come and look after him for a while."
"When you're not treating me like a secretary, you treat me like some kind of babysitter," she said.
"Oh no, that isn't true."
"Isn't it? You leave me here day in and day out. I never see the light of day."
"No, hang on a minute. You were the one who wanted a child. You were the one who suddenly got interested in me when you found out I was fertile."
She shook her head. "That's not true."
"Isn't it? When you found me that day on the Underground, you were all ready to abandon me to the Untainted, and then you found out I had a daughter. All of a sudden the old lady was gone and you were all long legs and shy smiles. What would you like to do for your last day, you said, all come-to-bed eyes and pouting lips. You think I didn't know? You think I didn't notice?" I was shouting now, but I didn't care.
"That's not how it was." There were tears in her eyes.
"You didn't think I'd make it through the night, did you? That's why you left me at Leicester Square. You didn't want to be around when the Untainted came for me. You damn near admitted it."
She shook her head, but she couldn't get the words out to deny it.
There was a knot in my throat, but I swallowed it down. "Even then, when I survived and you found I was wraithkin — it didn't put you off, did it? What could be a powerful enough incentive for you to overcome your revulsion? What would it take for you to put that aside?"
"No, no, no," she whispered.
"It wasn't me you wanted. It was what I could give you. All you ever wanted was a child. It was written all over your face at that inn in Shropshire. The first time you thought you might be pregnant you looked like the cat that got the cream. You hit the jackpot, and now you've got what you wanted you couldn't give a damn about me."
"It's not true," she whispered.
"Tell me truthfully. Before you knew I was fertile, did you have any interest in me at all?"
She shook her head, denying my question.
"That's not an answer, Blackbird. You never wanted me, did you? It was only ever about the baby. Now you've got what you needed, you want out. Don't worry, I know how it goes. I've been there before. I've got the bloody T-shirt."
She shook her head again, scattering tears, wringing her hands together. I turned and reached for the door handle. "Let Garvin know when you're leaving. I'll keep out of your way until then."
I stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind me. I was breathing hard, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My head felt like it would burst. I wanted to kick the door, the wall, anything. How could I have been such a fool?
I knew what she wanted from the start, but I kidded myself. I told myself that when she got to know me it would be enough — we would find a way to be together. I'd let my sex drive override my common sense and look where it had got me. Another bloody disaster. Another lesson in letting your heart rule your head. You'd think I'd bloody well learn.
Behind me, the door was wrenched open. I turned and she stood there, hands on her hips, colour in her cheeks.
"How dare you!" she shouted. "How dare you presume to tell me what I think and how I feel. What gives you the right?"
"Don't make it worse than it has to be."
"Worse? You stupid, stupid man! You idiot! What do you think you're doing?"
I shrugged. "It's over isn't it? What else is there to say?"
"Idiot!" she repeated. She grabbed my jacket and wrenched me back into the room, slamming the door behind me. She pushed me back against the door and pressed her lips to mine, hard. She kissed me hungrily, pressing her body against mine. It was such a change of tack that it took a moment for my head to catch up with my body.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
She kissed me again. "Shut up and undress me."
"You'll wake the baby…"
"He's downstairs with Lesley." She tugged my jacket off my arms and pulled my shirt out of my trousers, I could feel her nipples hardening under her blouse. I started fumbling with her buttons. She grabbed the blouse and ripped it open, exposing her breasts and shrugged it from her shoulders, then tugged at the belt of my trousers.
"But I thought…"
"Stop it! Stop thinking. You think too much. You pull things apart until there's nothing left. You analyse everything until it's torn apart. Don't think. Feel."
She tugged me by the belt towards the bed, pulling my shirt over my head and kissing me again. We fell on to the bed and kicked off our remaining clothes, wrapping our bodies together.
She bit my shoulder, making me squeal, "Ow! That hurts"
"That's for being stupid." She nibbled my ear, making me squirm, "and that's for thinking too much." She had her hands on my naked rear, wriggled beneath me. She kissed me long and languid, lifting her hips, and my body took over from my brain and I finally stopped trying to think.
A little while later I was staring at the ceiling, stroking her hair while she lay on top of me, resting her head on my chest. The length of her naked warmth was laid down my body, so that her legs rested between mine. I sighed.
"A pigeon for your thoughts," she said.
"It's a penny," I reminded her.
"You always say that, but it doesn't make it right."
"I hate pigeons."
"I don't suppose they're that keen on you," she said.
We lapsed into silence again; I could feel the rise and fall of her chest where she lay on me.
"You're not leaving me then?" I asked, tentatively.
She leaned over and sank her teeth into my side.
"Ow! Ow! That hurts! Let go!" I rubbed where her teeth had nipped the skin. I rubbed it with the palm of my hand. "I'm going to have a mark there."
"You shouldn't ask such stupid questions."
"Teeth are off limits. No teeth. OK?"
"That's not what you said earlier," she purred.
"That was different."
"You have to make your mind up then. Teeth or no teeth?" Her hand stroked across my chest, circling where my chest hair surrounded my nipple.
"Why is everything so complicated?" I asked her.
"It's not complicated. You simply have to decide what you want and what you're prepared to do to get it."
"Is that what you did?"
There was a long pause. I carried on stroking her hair.
"I admit, when I first met you I was thinking that you already had a daughter, so maybe another baby wasn't impossible for you. But you have to remember that you were marked by the Untainted. I'd never heard of anyone surviving to the next dawn in those circumstances. It was unlikely at best, and I offered what I could, partly from selfishness, it's true, but I would have made sure you enjoyed it."
"What changed your mind?"
"About you? I don't remember a specific moment. Between threatening to skewer you with a knife and losing you on the Way, something changed. I found I cared about losing you."
"Do you still care?"
She pressed her nails into the soft skin at each side with increasing pressure.
"OK, OK, I give in." The pressure relaxed
Lifting her head, she rose up on her arms to face me, studying my face intently.
"What?" I asked.
She shuffled upwards so that she could straddle my hips and sit across me, taking both my hands in hers and intertwining the fingers, pressing them down so that her hands were over my shoulders. I leaned up to kiss a nipple, but she evaded me, looking serious.
There was a hint of green fire somewhere in the darkness of her eyes.
"Know this, Niall Petersen. I have loved you almost since the day I met you. I cannot promise to love you for ever, because I do not know what the future will bring, for either of us, but right here, right now, I love you."
"I love you too."
She lifted her hand, mine still entwined, and pressed it against my lips. "Don't say that unless you mean it. I do not demand it of you. I do not even ask it."
"I do. When I thought you were leaving I was… I don't know what I would have done."
"Someone…" She stopped, and sighed, and tried again. "Before I met you, someone hurt you. Maybe it was Katherine, and maybe it was someone else, I don't know and I'm not blaming anyone for it. But you hold yourself closed, like any moment you expect the floor to drop out from under you."
I didn't say anything. The knot had reappeared in my throat and I didn't think I could speak.
"I just want you to know," she said quietly, "that I won't do that to you."
She leaned down and gently kissed my lips.
She added, "I might stick a knife in your ribs, or bash your head in with a rolling pin, but I won't do that to you."
I smiled, and she smiled too.
"Which might be sooner rather than later if you don't get me out of here. Seriously, if I have to change another nappy today I am going to go stark-raving mad. I love our son dearly, but he's a little shit-bottom."
"All part of the joys of parenthood," I said.
"Well if you don't want to find him skewered to a door post, you're going to have to do something."
"Far be it from me to tell Blackbird of the Fey'ree when she can come and go. The world is your oyster, Mistress." I hadn't forgotten her earlier words, despite our current rapprochement.
"That smart mouth will get you into trouble." She kissed it for emphasis. "I can feel my brain going to mush. I haven't had a decent conversation that doesn't involve nappy-rash for weeks. Don't look hurt, I don't mean you. It's just that I've always been active and enquiring; I spent the last thirty years as an academic. The lack of any kind of mental stimulus is driving me to distraction. I need something to get my teeth into."
"I'll see if I can come up with something."
"Maybe I could come with you on one of your Warder missions?"
"I don't think Garvin would approve," I pointed out.
"Stuff Garvin. I don't need his permission."
"Woah, I was just pointing out that Warder business possibly wasn't the best way to get some fresh air."
"You don't need to protect me, Niall."
"It's not that. I'm already feeling out of my depth. I meant it when I told you I messed up this morning. We could have caught them if I had been quicker on my feet."
"And then what happens to them?" she asked.
"Whatever. They join the courts? We all live happily ever after?"
"Something tells me that's not what Garvin has planned."
"I know you don't see eye to eye with him, but you don't have to see a conspiracy in everything he does."
"Where is Angela?" she asked, innocently.
"The seer? She's staying in the house, isn't she? Garvin said he'd ask Mullbrook to find her somewhere."
"Have you seen her since then?" she asked.
"Well no, since you come to mention it."
"So where is she?"
"It's a big house. There are plenty of empty rooms."
"It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are they all for?"
"Now you really are going off track. I promise I will find something for you to do." She squeezed my hand, "For us to do together, then. Just don't rattle Garvin's cage any more than you have to, OK? He's already on my case."
"He probably wouldn't approve of you having sex when you're supposed to be on duty," she said, releasing my hand and stroking across my chest so it brushed my nipple.
"We won't tell him then, eh?"
She released my other hand and leaned down for a long slow kiss. She whispered warm in my ear, "He's probably listening at the keyhole." She lifted my hands to her breasts so I could caress my thumbs over her nipples while she stroked down my arms. She wriggled on top of me in response.
"I don't think so," I said.
"He knows far too much of what goes on in this house," she said, sitting upright and reaching round behind her to stroke her nails up the inside of my thigh.
"You're not serious," I asked.
She stared at me wide eyed, while her hands did something far from innocent behind her.
"We'd better give him something to listen to then, I suppose?" she said.
The West End got more crowded as the light faded — party goers, mates out for a drink, people choosing from menus outside brightly lit restaurants. Alex floated past them. At the end of the evening they would all go home. Late buses and lastditch taxis would carry them back to their houses and they could crawl into their beds and dream of happy families.
"You all right, love?" A bloke with his mate in tow staggered towards her. She caught a whiff of the alcohol on his breath.
"Go away," she said. "Leave me alone."
There must have been more in her words than a simple request, because he veered away, dragging his friend behind him. She changed direction and walked into Leicester Square, weaving between couples arm-in-arm, avoiding the crowds of lads out for a good time, staying clear of the girls who were less than subtly touting for business at the edge of the crowd. The cinemas were emptying out after the late showing, the uniformed staff guiding the stragglers out into the square.
"It's your lucky night." The man approached her smiling, offering his card. "We're recruiting models and you have the look of tomorrow, you know that? Of course you do, a beautiful girl like you has her career ahead of her. Just take this card to the address on the back and they'll look after you." He proffered the card.
She smiled, "You really think so?" She took the card and turned it over. The address was in minute print.
He grinned at her. "Sure, you're a natural. You're gonna look great in pictures, Baby." He stepped in close, too close for her liking.
She reached up and tapped him lightly on the forehead. He stepped back, unnerved by her odd reaction. "I don't think it's your lucky night," she said. "I fact, I think your night's going to take a turn downhill." She turned away.
"Don't say that, Baby. You'll jinx me. I'm just doing my job."
She called back, "And don't call me Baby." Walking on, she wondered how long it would take him to realise that the word "pervert" was now tattooed across his forehead. She changed course and headed into Soho in case it was sooner rather than later.
As soon as she left the bright lights of the square she wrapped herself in glamour. These were streets she would be cautious around in daytime, even more so after midnight. Taxis rumbled down the streets and a garbage collection giant was grinding and squealing its way down the street, tipping containers of commercial waste out into its dark maw with mechanical efficiency while its minions ran around trying to keep the beast fed. She turned aside, heading vaguely towards Oxford Street and the lighted pillars of Centrepoint and the BT Tower.
The streets grew quieter, punctuated by the chinking rattle of bottles as the pubs cleared out the empties and the occasional roar of a motorcycle taking a short cut down the back streets.
The people out now were drunk, lost or lonely, and she didn't include herself in any of those groups. She walked down the edge of a square, a large patch of brown grass fenced off in the middle with park benches occupied by huddled shapes with draped newspaper, plastic bags and tins of cider. She'd a fair idea of how harsh that life could be and had no wish to join them.
The sudden whiff of a foul drain caught her off guard.
The tumbling rush of turning water, the gut-turning stench of shit, the gulped-off scream as one of them was dragged under…
She shook her head, lifting her hand to push away the mental images that crowded into her brain as she stumbled off the pavement into a doorway. Not now.
Leaning against the door to a swanky advertising boutique, pressing her forehead to the cool glass, she fought to control her breathing. The cold on her skin helped to calm her. She smoothed her hair back from her face, pushing down the memories, concentrating on the moment. She was OK. All that was past, and she had come through it. She could deal with it.
Even so, she couldn't stay the night in a doorway. She had to keep moving.
Despite the summer day, the night was chilling fast and she'd only the skimpy cardie to keep her warm. There was the momentary regret that she could have acquired something warmer, but then she pulled it close about her. She liked her new clothes. They made her feel better. She started walking again.
A movement across the square caught her eye. Something large had just bounded across the grass. She scanned the open space for movement, but there was nothing there. A dog? No, too big, and where was the owner? Something else? In her time at Porton Down she had seen things that she did not want to encounter in the dark London streets. She wrapped her glamour tighter and cut down an alley away from the square, heading back towards the bright lights.
She crossed over Shaftsbury Avenue, wondering whether to head up towards Tottenham Court Road or back down to Leicester Square. She'd been here in the day, shopping for a guitar when she'd discovered a boy she liked was into music and wanted to form a band. Her mum had suggested she sing, but she had balked at that. The kind of music he liked wasn't the sort of music you sang, and her enthusiasm for the guitar had evaporated when she'd discovered that you had to cut your nails and it made your fingers sore. They'd sold it on eBay for half what they paid for it.
Turning away from the music stores, she headed back to Cambridge Circus towards Neal Street. There were some nice boutiques that way and even though they would be closed she could still window-shop. She paused as she crossed Seven Dials. There were a couple getting out of a taxi outside a hotel, the man making a big show of tipping the driver, and it occurred to her that there were places in London full of empty beds that were there for the taking.
She ghosted past the reception where the couple were booking in and went to the lift. The buttons operated with a key-card, but that didn't stop her. She went to the top floor, opening out on a blank corridor with doors spaced along it.
The ones with trays outside were obviously occupied. The problem was figuring out which ones were empty. The receptionist would have it all on the computer, but there was no way to access it without attracting attention. She went to a door and listened. Was that the faint sound of snoring? She moved on.
Four doors down she found a room that was quiet. She put her hand on the door handle and the light blinked to green. The door opened easily. She opened the door and let herself in.
"Who's there?" A voice came from the darkness inside.
"Sorry Madame, it's… room service." The lie twisted on her tongue. "I've got the wrong room. My apologies." She slipped out again and pulled the door shut behind her, sliding sideways away from the viewport in the door. After a second she heard the lock behind her click shut and the rattle as the chain was put across. She slipped away down the corridor.
The doors all looked the same. If only she could figure out which ones were empty.
At the end of the corridor was a door with a brass plaque mounted beside it. The plaque said, The Seven Dials Suite. "In for a penny…" she whispered. She put her hand on the door control and it blinked green.
Pushing through she found a hallway with low-level LEDs leading like runway lights into the room. She let the door almost close and then rested it against the latch so she could escape quickly if she needed to.
"Room service?" She called, experimentally, into the room. There was no reply.
She edged forwards along the corridor and nearly jumped out of her skin when the latch clicked behind her and the door closed. Heart beating fast, she went to the end of the hall. It opened out into a room with floor-length glass windows looking out over the rooftops. The city light illuminated comfortable chairs with chic magazines arranged artfully on occasional tables, and doors leading off to other rooms. This was more like a luxury apartment than any hotel Alex had ever stayed in. She crept through the apartment, finding other rooms with huge beds freshly made and a marble bathroom with an enormous tub.
"How the other half lives, eh?" she whispered.
Satisfied that the apartment was empty, she went to switch on the lights, but they were dead. She tried another switch, but that was dead too. Maybe there was a power failure? The LED lights in the hallway still worked, though. On an impulse she went back to the door and found a slot where your keycard would fit to switch on the power. She placed her hand on it, but nothing happened. I wasn't that it was locked, it simply didn't work.
On reflection, she thought that maybe it would be better if no one saw light coming from a room that should be empty. She could manage in the light from the windows and all she really needed was a bed. She locked the door from the inside and put the chain across for good measure. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands, then splashed her face in the sink, dabbing her face with the snowy towels. In the mirror her eyes glowed faintly blue back at her.
She glanced at her wrist. Dropping the towel, she went back to the main window overlooking the rooftops. Unlocking the balcony doors, she stepped out in to the night and examined her wrists. The buds that had been there had opened into dark flowers, black petals folded back to reveal long stamen. What did that mean? She rubbed at them, but they were dyed into her skin. Tattoos were supposed to be fixed, weren't they?
The night air was cool and it was somehow private up here. She tried to imagine herself staying here legitimately, but she could think of no circumstance where she would be accorded this kind of treatment. Maybe if she'd stuck to the guitar and been a rock star?
Closing the door on the balcony, she rubbed at her wrists as she wandered around the apartment. She found a fridge in a cupboard and opened a pack of cashew nuts and a mineral water, eating them laid out on the huge sofa. There was champagne in the fridge, but she wanted to keep her wits about her. This was no time to get silly. She would save the orange juice for the morning.
In the bedroom she stripped out of her outfit, telling herself she would need to acquire some clean underwear in the morning and that M amp;S in Covent Garden would be a good place to do that. She left the curtains open. Having spent so many days in rooms where it was always light, she liked sleeping with the curtains open. Climbing into the huge bed, she drew the light quilt across her and laid in the dark, listening to the city sounds filtering across the rooftops. She laid there, eyes open, long into the deep of the night, before sleep finally claimed her.