Though it was close to midnight, the center of town was still busy. Decembrius led them through the crowds and across Regent Street, where it became quieter. They walked past several small shops with men’s suits in the windows. Tailor’s shops, Kalix thought, though she couldn’t read the signs.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Savile Row.”
Decembrius surprised Kalix by abruptly changing into his werewolf shape and leaping up to a narrow window ledge far above them.
“Come on,” he called down. “Before anyone sees us.”
Kalix transformed and leapt after him. The two werewolves scrambled agilely up the side of the building, climbing several stories before finally coming to a metal fence. Decembrius clambered over it, followed by Kalix. She found herself on a flat rooftop, three stories above the ground.
“You like it?” asked Decembrius.
Kalix shrugged. She’d been on a lot of rooftops. There didn’t seem anything to distinguish this one.
“This is the roof of the old Apple Building.” Decembrius looked pleased with himself. “This is where the Beatles played their last live gig.”
If Decembrius was expecting Kalix to be impressed, he was disappointed.
“It’s a funny place to play,” she said. “Couldn’t they find anywhere better?”
“It was a famous event.”
“Oh,” said Kalix, sounding even less impressed.
It began to rain, quite gently, and Kalix noticed the temperature had dropped. As a werewolf child, Kalix had been completely impervious to the weather. She’d run through the valleys around Castle MacRinnalch in deep snow and hardly noticed it. These days she wasn’t so immune to the climate.
“I thought you were taking me somewhere good.”
“This is good,” said Decembrius.
“I think it’s stupid,” said Kalix, and she decided that she didn’t like Decembrius at all, which she’d known all along anyway. “I’m going home.”
“Don’t you want to discuss what Thrix said?”
“You didn’t learn anything useful. You probably asked the wrong questions.”
“Maybe you could have done better,” said Decembrius, annoyed at Kalix for her ingratitude.
“Maybe I could.”
“Fine. Solve it yourself.”
“What do you care who killed Gawain anyway?” demanded Kalix.
The two werewolves faced each other on the rooftop in the rain. Kalix emitted a small growl then withdrew, climbing over the fence and making her way down the face of the building via a series of window ledges. When she reached the street below, she hurried away and didn’t remember to change back to her human shape till she scented some people around the corner. She pulled up the collar of her coat and hurried past a group of young people carrying guidebooks.
“This is where the Beatles played their last gig,” she heard one of them say. Kalix shook her head. She still didn’t see why that was of interest to anyone.
* * *
The night bus was almost empty, and the journey through the quiet, dark streets was quicker than normal. Kalix reached Kennington in twenty minutes and hurried off of the bus. From habit, she scanned the area and smelled the air, checking for signs of pursuit. Though her pendant masked any sign of her scent and the sorcery provided by her sister hid her house from hunters, there had been a time when the streets of Kennington had been full of people pursuing her. It was still wise to be careful. Kalix didn’t intend to let herself be ambushed while there was vengeance to be taken for Gawain.
She was relieved that neither Moonglow nor Daniel were around when she arrived home. She wanted to think about Thrix’s conversation with Decembrius. She was sure her sister was lying about something. Maybe if she wrote everything down, she’d find some clue. Unfortunately, her small bedroom wasn’t empty. The cat was there, a tiny bundle of dark fur.
“Go away,” said Kalix.
The cat purred, pleased to see her.
“Go away, you stupid cat,” repeated Kalix, dropping her coat on the floor and kicking off her old boots. When she sat on the bed, the cat leapt into her lap and started turning this way and that, apparently quite excited to see her.
Kalix was perplexed. Dogs were always nervous of her, and she’d assumed that cats probably would be too. This cat seemed to like nothing better than trampling all over her.
“I’ll show this stupid cat,” thought Kalix. She changed into her werewolf shape and opened her mouth wide, displaying her alarming rows of long sharp teeth. “You see how fierce I am? Go away before I eat you.”
But the cat apparently didn’t feel in any danger of being eaten and indeed seemed even more comfortable than before, snuggling down in Kalix’s long werewolf fur. Kalix sighed and gave up. Obviously the cat was too stubborn to leave. She sat back on the bed and took her journal from her bag. She sipped some laudanum and thought about making some notes, but now she was home, she felt tired. She could already feel the opiate dulling her senses.
“I’ll make notes in the morning.” Kalix stretched out on the bed, but something was wrong. She couldn’t get comfortable. She looked up. “Stop hogging the whole bed you stupid cat! How much bed does a small cat need anyway?” Kalix pushed the cat out of the way. The cat meowed briefly in protest before moving back to settle down comfortably on Kalix’s werewolf fur, and then it fell asleep, purring heavily.
Chapter 67
Stumbling into their house at three in the morning, Beauty and Delicious were surprised to find a large white wolf sleeping on the couch. Surprised, though not shocked; many MacRinnalch werewolves could take on the shape of a full wolf. Delicious swayed a little as she studied Dominil’s sleeping form. “I wish I could do that.”
The twins’ degenerate lifestyle had robbed them of some of their werewolf powers. Neither of them could take on the full-wolf form anymore. Even the simple werewolf transformation was often too difficult. Though most of their contemporaries could transform on any night, the twins generally had to wait for the full moon. It was peculiar, as Beauty had said only recently. Almost as if continually binging on drugs and alcohol could have affected their metabolism in some mysterious way.
“Is this reasonable behavior?” demanded Delicious. “What if she wakes up and attacks us?”
It wasn’t such a ridiculous notion. Changing into a wolf was different from changing into a werewolf. The intellect became blurred. A MacRinnalch in full-wolf form tended to become completely animal, forgetting their human identity until the morning came.
“At least she doesn’t look so weird.” Beauty sat down heavily, as the night’s intake of alcohol caught up with her. “I mean, the white werewolf thing is pretty strange. It’s like living with a yeti.”
“She’s strange enough as a human.”
The white wolf opened one eye and growled faintly.
“Hey, are you about to get savage?” asked Beauty, eying the wolf suspiciously.
The wolf looked angry then changed abruptly into werewolf form. Seconds later, there was a further change, and the human Dominil sat on the couch, regarding them coldly. “If I wanted to savage you to death, I’d have done it already.”
“What’s the idea of lying around on our couch being a wolf? It’s dangerous.”
“The full-wolf form does not diminish my intellect.”
“Well, that’s a surprise,” said Beauty, and looked disgusted.
“The full-wolf form is very rejuvenating.”
“It wouldn’t be rejuvenating for us if you went crazy and started tearing up the place.”
“I already told you. Even as a wolf, I retain my normal intellect.”
“That didn’t stop you from attacking us in the castle,” said Beauty, referring to a well-remembered incident from their childhood when the twins, aged twelve, had knocked on the door of Dominil’s chamber during Halloween, looking for some sort of treat. They’d found themselves confronted by a white wolf who’d claimed to be busy working on a c
omputer program. The young twins, insistent on receiving chocolate and unwilling to withdraw, had soon found themselves pursued down the corridor by an angry wolf. Beauty and Delicious had resented it ever since.
Delicious opened a can of lager, took a sip, and sat down on one of their deep armchairs. “Well, while you’ve been lying around as a wolf—probably solving the world’s problems—we’ve been busy. We got a gig.”
“What?”
“For Adrian’s birthday. He’s hired a warehouse, and we’re playing.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, we are,” said Beauty, “and it’s no use turning into a white wolf and savaging us, we’ve agreed to do it, and that’s that.”
Dominil eyed the sisters with dislike. Not only did playing a warehouse gig seem like a dubious career move, it was liable to get them all killed. Dominil had been unsure as to whether or not to inform them about the hunters who now pursued them. She’d almost decided against it, but the twins’ unwelcome news made her change her mind. “You can’t perform in public right now. It’s too dangerous.” She gave the twins a brief outline of her recent encounter with Albermarle. They sat in silence as she related the tale of her pursuit through the British museum.
“That sounds bad,” admitted Delicious, “but we’ve had hunters chasing us before, and this Albermarle sounds like an idiot.”
“He’s not an idiot. He’s extremely intelligent. He might not be the most competent hunter in the world, but there’s no telling who he might be working with. We could find ourselves up against a lot more dangerous opponents than him. Besides, he has a grudge against me. It dates back to our time at Oxford.”
“Why?”
Dominil, normally so calm, shifted uncomfortably. “He used to…follow me around.”
“You mean he stalked you?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
The twins burst out laughing. Dominil was surprised. She had expected the sisters to take the news badly. By werewolf standards, they weren’t very fierce and didn’t relish confrontations with hunters. “What do you find funny?” she asked.
“You having an affair with a werewolf hunter,” cried Beauty.
“I didn’t have an affair with him. I rejected his advances.”
This seemed to amuse the twins even more.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have. Might have stopped him from going around trying to kill werewolves.”
“You can see why he’s upset,” said Delicious. “Poor student, probably shy, finally plucks up courage to ask Dominil out—”
“Which would take a lot of courage,” added Beauty.
“Absolutely!” agreed Delicious. “Must have been terrifying, what with Dominil being so hostile. And what happens? She rejects him and breaks his heart. No wonder he hates you.”
Dominil did not find the conversation amusing and said so. It only made things worse.
“When you think about it, Dominil’s love life has caused a lot of trouble,” observed Beauty. “Look what happened after she rejected Sarapen. Violence, destruction—practically tore the whole clan to pieces.”
“It’s like no one’s safe with Dominil going around breaking hearts everywhere.”
“What does everyone see in her?”
“Hidden passion? Dominil, do you have hidden passion?”
“You have to be more responsible,” said Delicious. “Your chaotic love life is harming the rest of us.”
“You would be better off forgetting this nonsense and preparing yourself for the lunar eclipse,” said Dominil, attempting to change the subject.
Beauty shrugged. “Lunar eclipse? We’re used to them. We just keep drinking till it’s over.”
“We hardly noticed the last one.”
Dominil’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and saw she had a message from Albermarle.
“i found your number because i’m smarter than you.”
She put the phone back in her pocket. “I think you probably shouldn’t play this gig.”
“We’ll be all right,” said Beauty. “There will be a load of people there. Hunters won’t attack it.”
Dominil’s phone vibrated again.
“i’ve always been smarter than you.”
“Who keeps sending you messages?” asked Delicious.
“No one.”
* * *
Angry at Albermarle and frustrated by the twins’ inability to take anything seriously, Dominil left the room, mounted the stairs to her office, closed the door firmly, and sat down in front of her computer.
“All that is required now,” she reflected, angrily, “is for that idiot Pete to blurt out the reason for his unhappiness, and the twins will never let me hear the end of it.”
As far as she could see, Dominil had never done anything to inflame the passions of others. It wasn’t her fault if Sarapen had been moved to violence, Albermarle had become a werewolf hunter, and Pete the guitarist had turned into a love-struck idiot.
“Merely a series of coincidences,” she thought, and went about the business of once more trying to break through the security of the Avenaris Guild, a task that was becoming increasingly difficult, but one to which she now applied herself with even greater determination than before. Her phone vibrated for the third time.
“forget your feeble attempts at cracking. you can’t get the better of me.”
Dominil switched off her phone.
“I’ll find you, Albermarle,” she muttered, softly, “and then I’ll make you regret ruining my visit to the museum.”
Chapter 68
Kalix stared blankly at the computer screen. She glanced around the class, desperately hoping that everyone else was as baffled as she was. To her dismay, all the others seemed to be working away busily. Even Vex was clicking her mouse enthusiastically. Kalix felt the palms of her hands moisten. She’d expected today’s test to be difficult but wasn’t quite prepared for the despair she felt as she attempted to complete Numeracy A, a beginner’s test on numbers. Previously, she’d scraped her way through the entry-level test, but that had been carried out with a paper and pencil, something with which she was more comfortable. And even though that test had been made up of the most basic arithmetic, her score still hadn’t been anything to boast about. This test seemed a lot more difficult. It was onscreen, and Kalix’s computer skills were still very poor, despite Moonglow’s help.
Kalix stared at the question and wondered if she was reading it correctly. It seemed to be about buying computers. Was that important? Was she supposed to know about buying computers? They wanted to know how many computers had been sold by some shop in February. Kalix frowned. There was a choice of answers onscreen, and she was supposed to click one of them. Her mind went blank. Was she supposed to round something up or down? No, that had been the last question.
She looked around again. Everyone was still busy. Kalix’s mouth felt dry, and her hands became cold as her anxiety grew. She regretted ever agreeing to come to this place. She desperately wanted to sip some laudanum, but that only reminded her that she was almost out of laudanum. To buy more, she’d need to use money from her mother, and that would be withdrawn if she left college. Kalix cursed silently and wondered how she’d ever allowed herself to be maneuvered into this position.
Vex was still clicking away with her mouse. Kalix couldn’t understand it. She was certain Vex didn’t know any of the answers. She pressed the button to go on to the next question. Now it was asking about products bought in a hair salon. Kalix was baffled. She’d never been in a hair salon. Apart from the most minor trimming of split ends, her hair had never been cut. It hung down to her hips in a spectacular mane. How was she supposed to know about professional hair products? Why did they want to know what sort of units they were measured in?
Kalix felt a strong urge to bite the computer. Unfortunately it was midday, and she couldn’t turn into a werewolf. Maybe she could just hit it? She shook her head. She couldn’t hit the computer or they’d throw he
r out, and then she’d be in disgrace. She desperately clicked forward again to look at another question, but when she saw it concerned a graph, she despaired. Kalix knew she couldn’t understand graphs. They didn’t make sense. Why was this test so hard? Wasn’t it supposed to be for beginners?
Kalix abandoned hope and sat back in her chair, concentrating for the moment on not succumbing to an anxiety attack. Though her anxiety had never gone away, it had been less severe in recent months. Since Gawain’s death, she’d felt it worsening. Now Kalix felt anxious about becoming anxious. That made her more anxious. Kalix tried to divert her attention by returning her gaze to the computer screen, but by now, she could barely read any of the words. Abruptly, she felt her chest tighten, and she struggled to breathe. The walls of the classroom started to advance. Kalix gave way to panic.
She stood up and fled from the room, running through the corridor and down the stairs till she was outside the building where she stood gasping in the courtyard, trying to catch her breath. She glared at the old college building and swore she’d never go in there again.
Kalix noticed she was attracting attention from students coming though the front gates. Unwilling to be stared at while still trembling from panic, she slunk into one of the old wooden benches beside the wall, out of sight of the front gate, intending to gather herself for the journey home. That in itself would be difficult. She didn’t enjoy traveling while gripped with anxiety.
Suddenly a familiar werewolf scent appeared. More than one scent. The Douglas-MacPhees were close. Kalix flattened herself onto the bench and peered out through the slats. Duncan Douglas-MacPhee appeared at the college gate.
“Maybe this one?” he said.
His sister Rhona appeared beside him. “I’m sick of checking these colleges. How are we supposed to find her? She has no scent.”
“Morag hopes we might just run into her.”
“Then let Morag walk around every college in London,” growled Rhona. “I’m tired of looking in classrooms.”
“I’m tired of arguing with doormen,” added William, appearing behind his cousins.