‘“Stay up all night writing that one, did you, Peasant?”
‘I flipped him the Fathers, and de Coste slapped his neck as if swatting a bug. I was fully aware it was foolish to be spitting at each other at a time like this. But I also knew I might find myself alone with Aaron watching my back tonight, and after the attack he’d orchestrated on me in the stables, I’d no trust he wouldn’t put a knife in it.
‘“Stop your squabbling,” Greyhand growled. “We are at Hunt tonight.”
‘I waved at my greatcoat and sword. “If intent is to lie in wait among the sheep until the wolf shows teeth, it seems unwise to dress as shepherds?”
‘Talon nodded. “We do stick out like four leather-clad thumbs.”
‘“I’m certain suitable attire can be acquired from the master of the house.” Aaron rubbed his jaw and sighed. “So I suppose we’d best go speak to him.”
‘Our horses’ shoes rang on the cobbles as we climbed the road upwards, and the light had well failed before we reached the keep. The portcullis was raised in welcome, the drawbridge lowered. Torches burned on the walls, lighting chill mists in the bailey. I could see men-at-arms, well-arrayed in steel finery and tabards of the house. The flag of the famille de Coste flew proud on the walls, spit and shine on every surface.
‘An officer of the gens d’armes came out to greet us, clad in heavy mail. Before de Coste had even pulled down his collar, I saw recognition in the man’s eyes. “Master Aaron …”
‘“Well met, Capitaine Daniau. How is your son?”
‘“Passing fair, my lord, merci.” The man looked among us, and I could tell from his mix of fear and soft loathing that he knew exactly what we were. “What brings you home after so many months, Master Aaron? And in … such company?”
‘“I have need to speak to my mother.”
‘“She is preparing for the feast, my lord, I fear she cannot—”
‘“I fear manners have slipped in my absence, Capitaine.” The blonde lordling sat taller, that familiar mix of arrogance and confidence oozing from his pores. “Unless it has become habit in Ch?teau de Coste for the manorborn to be questioned by the help?”
‘“Forgive me, my lord. But your father left word if ever you were to …”
‘The man’s voice failed as Aaron leaned closer, a predator’s gleam in his eyes. “Send word to my mother I wish to see her, Capitaine.”
‘The man’s face slackened, his eyes dulled. “At once, my lord.”
‘“See our horses stabled. If you’ve men sitting idle, set them to the watch. Mortal peril comes to your master’s house this night, Daniau. And it wears no silver on its breast.”
‘I watched Aaron slipping into the role of the nobleson as easy as putting on an old coat, reminded of all the things I disliked about him. He spat orders to those men like he was their better, and I’d no doubt he believed it – of them and me. This prick was a snake. No matter if we were on the Hunt – I was damned if I’d give him chance to bite me again.
‘Ten minutes later, we stood in the grand entrance hall of Coste keep, surrounded by fine tapestries and marble statues. A broad staircase led upwards, and to our left, I could see a beautiful ballroom, bedecked in finery and buzzing with servants. Long tables were being laid with pale linen, and beyond, a quartet of soothsingers practised above a dancefloor inlaid with bloodwood and gleaming mother-of-pearl.
‘If the wealth of Skyefall had left me queasy, the opulence here was sickening. I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been to grow up in a place like this – no wonder de Coste acted as if the Mothermaid sucked his cock dry before mornmeal every day.
‘“My son?”
‘Aaron looked up, and I saw all tension melt from his frame. A stately woman stood on the landing, clad in a beautiful emerald gown, a spectacular powdered wig propped atop her head. She was perhaps forty, powdered pale, her eyes the same bright blue as Aaron’s.
‘“Mama,” he whispered.
‘“Aaron!” she cried, sweeping down and into his arms. Tears shone in her lashes as she held him tight, twirling him on the spot as if they danced. “When did you arrive?”
‘“Just now. You remember Master Greyhand? These are my comrades, Mama. Seraph Talon de Montfort and Gabriel de León.”
‘The Baronne graced us all with a perfect curtsey. “Any comrades of my dearest are welcome within these halls. But praise San Maximille and the Mothermaid, I thought not to see you again so soon, my son. What have I done to deserve such a blessing?”
‘“What indeed?” came a low, rasping voice.
‘I turned to the stairwell above, and saw a man watching the reunion with narrowed eyes. The Baron de Coste was arrayed in a green frockcoat of finest cut, silken hose and shirt. He radiated cold authority, and dripped wealth from every gold-trimmed finger. But no amount of leaden paint could mask the burst capillaries scrawled on his cheeks or the strawberry plumpness of his nose.
‘Growing up around a drunkard makes a lad an expert at spotting others, and I marked the Baron for a lush as soon as I laid eyes on him. He wasn’t the kind who’d grown bloated with it; rolling to his cups like a whale through the surf. No, Aaron’s stepfather was the breed whose disease eats him from the inside out. The Baron de Coste was a well-dressed skeleton, glowering at Aaron with undisguised contempt.
‘“How comes it you visit on this of all nights, bastard?” He looked over our number with a soft sneer. “And what in the name of Almighty God possessed you to bring a bevy of halfbreed swine to my door?”
‘“Baron de Coste.” Greyhand bowed. “Well met again, seigneur. I apologize for—”
‘“I have as little use for your apology as I have for your company, halfbreed,” the Baron said. “You were welcome in my halls when last you visited only because you took this mongrel off my hands. Am I to understand you are returning him?”
‘“We are here at our abbot’s behest, Baron.” Talon bowed. “We have reason to believe you may have an unwelcome guest at your feast this evening.”
‘“Several, it seems.”
‘“A vampire,” Aaron said. “One we’ve stalked for months now.”
‘I saw de Coste’s mother tense at that. But the Baron himself seemed unimpressed. “Well, it cannot be the one that despoiled your mama, bastard. Your rapist father was sent to his well-deserved hell years ago. The same that awaits you, I expect.”
‘“A woman,” Aaron replied, undaunted. “An ancien steeped in murder, who has stalked the edge of the Godsend for moons now. Your guests may be in danger.” He looked to his mama. “You may be in danger.”
‘De Coste turned his eyes back to the Baron. His jaw was clenched in defiance, and he stood taller, striking the pose of the proud young lord. But though I was again reminded of all the things I hated about him, I could see the little shit’s pose for what it was now. A fa?ade to hide the fear within. A fear I could sense in him, sure as breathing. Despite all he was, Aaron de Coste was afraid of his stepfather. Afraid, and utterly hateful.