‘It sat on the ground floor of the Priory building, with the sisterhood quartered above it. The entrance hall was a grand, open space, deep-red light spilling through tall arched windows, chymical globes glittering along the ceiling. Tapestries hung on the walls – grand portraits of the Mothermaid and infant Redeemer, angels of the host. But the cell I was recuperating in was more austere: white walls, soft cot, clean sheets. Above my bed was a beautiful stained-glass window depicting Eloise, the Angel of Retribution, face in hands, weeping her tears of blood.
‘The Infirmary was the domain of a sister named Esmeé, and it was into her tender care I’d been placed by Kaspar. Esmeé was a huge woman, with great ham hocks for hands. She seemed as out of place in a priory as a regular nun would be in an actual brothel.’
Gabriel waved one hand vaguely.
‘Specialist services notwithstanding, of course.’
‘More prostitute humour,’ Jean-Fran?ois sighed. ‘How very droll.’
‘Fuck off,’ Gabriel suggested cheerily, raising his glass of Monét.
‘I think you’ve had rather enough wine, Silversaint.’
‘I think you’re the last bastard in the world to lecture a man about his drinking habits, vampire.’ Gabriel leaned back, taking another long mouthful. ‘It’d been hours since the stable attack, and my bones were mending. But the wounds torn by those dead fangs would take time to scar over, even for a paleblood. And so, I was in the Priory’s care.
‘“You can certainly take a beating, Little Lion. I’ll give you that.”
‘I looked up at the voice and saw Greyhand at my doorway, watching with keen eyes.
‘“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were the Blood of Voss,” he declared.
‘It took me a few moments to realize my master was trying to jest. And though this was the first time I could ever recall him doing so, I was in no mood for merriment.
‘“How’s the throat?” he asked.
‘“I’ll live,” I murmured, jaw still aching.
‘“Three on one,” he nodded, drumming his sword hilt. “Impressive, boy.”
‘“I am what my master made me.”
‘“God be praised. Else we might be filling two graves this day.”
‘I blinked. Tilting my head, I realized I could hear faint weeping out in the Priory proper. A soft multitude in tears. “La Cour … she killed someone during her escape?”
‘Greyhand nodded. “A sister of the Priory. Young Kaveh found her body when he was fetching the horses. Drained dry and thrown from the monastery’s heights.”
‘Dread froze my belly.
‘Chloe and Astrid had been out of the Priory last night …
‘“Which sister, Master?”
‘“Aoife.” Greyhand made the sign of the wheel. “Poor lass.”
‘I felt a guilty relief flooding through me, a soft sadness at Aoife’s death. She’d been a faithful daughter of God, and she’d always offered kindness to me. She’d been on holy ground when I saw her last night, but I supposed La Cour must have caught her as she left the Cathedral, then made her way to the stables to strike at me. I wondered if I’d said something to Aoife, comforted her in her grief, perhaps I could have saved her?
‘But why had she been in the Cathedral in the first place? And weeping, no less?
‘My eyes narrowed as I looked to Greyhand.
‘Too many mysteries here by half.
‘“How did La Cour escape, Master?”
‘Greyhand sighed. “Drained by the Foundry and charred by the silver, her hands were thin enough to slip her bonds. Talon is wracked with guilt over it, poor bastard. Aoife has been his aide for years. She was as close to a daughter as he will ever know. But he vows by the Almighty and all Seven Martyrs it will never happen again.”
‘“… Has it happened before?”
‘“Not that I recall, no.”
‘I kept my face still, but inside, my belly was churning. I couldn’t be sure, but I’d have bet my bollocks Aaron de Coste had freed that bitch with the intent she’d do me over. He knew damn well I’d be down in the stables alone. He’d already proven himself a dog, using his bloodgifts on me, and he’d sworn to kill me in the Gauntlet. This was the perfect way to have his hands stay lily white and keep himself senior member of our company.
‘But was Aaron dark enough to actually want me dead? Over wounded pride?
‘And had his vendetta got an innocent sister murdered?
‘Greyhand was my teacher. My protector. I wanted to trust this man. But he’d already lied to me once. And I was still in the shite for my disobedience. Sharing my suspicions with him would be less than worthless, especially without proof.
‘My master mistook my silence for sadness. He patted my shoulder, awkward, like a father who never had any want to be one. “No sin is grief. But Sister Aoife is with the Martyrs now. And you did well, Little Lion. Fighting off two wretched and a highblood alone was no mean feat. And barehanded, no less?”
‘I shrugged. “Justice did his share.”
‘He studied me carefully. “No strangeness, then? As in Skyefall?”
‘I remembered little Claude’s blood boiling at my touch. Talon’s words: We should take him to Heaven’s Bridge right now. Cut his throat and give him to the waters.
‘If Khalid had’ve given the order, would Greyhand really have ended me?
‘“No, Master,” I said.
‘He grunted, as if he almost believed me. “Well, best heal up quick and be ready to ride, boy. Sunset waits for no saint.”
‘Butterflies took wing in my belly. “We’re to Hunt again?”
‘Greyhand nodded. “Talon finished testing the de Blanchet boy. As I suspected, his blood was frightening thick for a fledgling. Kith grow stronger as they age, but some measure of potency is always passed from maker to made. Talon has declared that the creature who turned little Claude was most definitely ancien.”
‘“An elder Voss?” I whispered.
‘“Oui,” Greyhand nodded. “Abbot Khalid has commanded we track her down. And with prey this dangerous, we do not Hunt alone. Talon himself rides with us.”
‘I groaned inwardly at the thought of that surly prick plodding behind me through the provinces. “But Talon is seraph. Is he not too important to risk?”
‘“An ancien is lethal quarry. And the seraph is the eldest of the Blood Voss in San Michon. He will be schooling you and de Coste in defending yourselves against our prey.”
‘I nodded, grudging. “When do we leave?”
‘“Amorrow. So you’d best drink some mortar and harden up, Little Lion. Butchering fledglings is one thing. But this prey will test your mettle, sure and true.” He reached into his greatcoat, his face soft as it ever got. “Something to read while you recover.”
‘Greyhand passed me a letter sealed with simple candle wax. All pain from my injury vanished as I realized who it was from. My master nodded and left me to it, and I broke the seal with shaking hands, scanning the beautiful flowing script.
‘My dearest Brother,