I shook my head sharply in frustration. What was wrong with me? I’d even found myself wondering if she might come through into my room—

  No. Stop being stupid and think. Who was she? She obviously wasn’t a normal. An adept or a mage? It was the kind of thing I would normally have asked but for some reason I hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t taken any of my normal precautions.

  It’s rare for there to be a woman sleeping over in my flat. Like, once-in-a-blue-moon rare. I could say it’s because I’m a diviner and it would be sort of true—being able to know another person’s secrets doesn’t do wonders for a relationship. I could also say it’s because I suck at romance and that’s definitely got something to do with it—I’ve never been good at knowing what to say to women and my lifestyle hasn’t given me much chance to improve. I could say it’s because I used to be an outcast from both mage factions and that sure didn’t help.

  But if I’m being honest the biggest reason is that I have serious issues with trusting people. Since I was young, every time I’ve put my trust in another person and depended on them, it’s ended badly. Sometimes very badly. I first learnt magic as a Dark apprentice in a society where everyone was a predator and giving away the wrong piece of information could get you hurt or killed. Things got worse before they got better and by the time I got to relative safety it was burnt into me to treat everyone as a potential enemy. I don’t like it—it’s not natural to me—but it’s an ingrained habit and it’s saved my life at least once. Even if I don’t have any reason to be suspicious of someone, or even if I’m actually trying to be trusting, there’s a part of me that stays on guard, always alert.

  So I didn’t fall asleep. I dozed, but that wary animal instinct stayed alert, listening for movement from the living room. And when Meredith’s phone gave a muted buzz, I was awake instantly. I heard the sound of her picking up and the murmur of her voice, then her footsteps crossing the room and the creak of the door.

  I swung my legs off the bed and moved to the connecting door, my bare feet silent on the carpet. The living room was empty and I could see the blanket lying ruffled on the sofa. The door to the landing was open and I could hear the sound of Meredith’s voice from below.

  I crossed the living room and slipped through, the planks of the landing cool under my feet. Through the banisters, I saw a flicker of movement: Meredith was below, in the hall, her head down, speaking into her phone. “…have much choice!” Her voice was pitched low and she sounded scared and angry. “You said they wouldn’t come after me!”

  The other person replied, an inaudible buzz. Whatever they said, it didn’t make Meredith any happier. “Don’t give me that! Did you know this was going to happen?”

  “…”

  “No! This wasn’t the deal.”

  “…”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “…”

  “What, be your bait?” Meredith gave a shaky laugh. “You wish.”

  “…”

  “No shit I’m angry! If I hadn’t come here I’d be dead right—”

  “…”

  “Oh, now it’s my fault?” Meredith paced up and down the hall, only barely keeping her voice down. “Screw you!”

  “…”

  “Go to hell. Why am I even talking to you?”

  “…”

  “Yeah well, I’m a lot safer here than with you.”

  The voice on the other end started to answer again but Meredith cut it off halfway through. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” She hung up and switched off the phone.

  I withdrew silently back across the living room, pulled the door to behind me, and lay down on my bed. A minute later I heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of the door to the landing being softly shut. A moment later the sofa’s springs creaked and there was the rustle of blankets followed by a soft sigh.

  I lay awake, listening, but nothing further came. It was a long time before I fell asleep.

  chapter 3

  I woke to the sun on my face. Rays were streaming through my bedroom window, lighting up the drab room in yellow and white. Outside the window I could hear the chatter and bustle of the city. The storm had passed and the sky was blue with white cloud.

  From the living room and kitchen, I could hear the bustle of movement. Meredith was making breakfast. I rose quietly and slipped into my jeans and shoes, then moved out onto the landing. The smell of something frying drifted from under the door to the kitchen and I heard the clink of plates. I opened the door out onto the balcony and stepped outside, shivering slightly in the cold, and the sounds from the kitchen cut off as I shut the door behind me. I climbed the ladder set into the wall and stepped off onto the roof.

  It was a beautiful morning. Puffy white clouds were scattered across a clear sky and the sounds of the city washed up all around me, carried upon fresh, cold air. Puddles of water were scattered on the flat roof, left over from last night’s storm, but the sun had been up long enough for most of the damp to dry. A breeze was blowing, cool and brisk, sending ripples racing across the water. Chimneys and TV aerials rose up all around, and a little farther away were road and rail bridges as well as the square shapes of blocks of flats. The morning sunlight was clear and crisp, outlining every brick and stone in sharp-edged shadow. It was London: dense, ancient, and my home.

  I took out my phone and dialled Talisid’s number. In case you’re wondering why I was climbing onto the roof to make a phone call, it’s because I didn’t want to be overheard.

  It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Stop looking at me like that.

  Talisid answered when I’d expected. “Morning, Verus.”

  “How did things go on Friday?”

  “Routine. As far as the Council’s concerned, the matter’s closed.”

  “Did you figure out what killed the barghest?”

  “No need. Now that it’s dead, no one has any reason to spend the time.”

  “Is the body in storage?”

  “Destroyed.”

  “Oh.”

  “Did you want it examined?”

  “I’d been hoping it would be.” I couldn’t honestly say it was unexpected but it was a bit disappointing all the same.

  “I could always give you the autopsy report.”

  “…Wait, what?”

  I heard Talisid chuckle. “Glad to see you’re not entirely immune to being surprised.”

  “I thought you just said there wasn’t any need?”

  “There wasn’t. I had the corpse analysed anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were curious.”

  “And you thought you’d satisfy my curiosity?”

  “No, I decided if you were curious, it was probably worth looking into. Consider it a compliment.”

  I snorted. “All right, Sun Tzu. What did you find?”

  There was the rustle of paper in the background. “Physically, the barghest was completely undamaged apart from minor bruises and lacerations. As far as nonmagical analysis can show, the creature was in perfect health.”

  “Apart from being dead?”

  “Apart from being dead. Magical scans also negative. Fatal life or death magic usually leaves distinctive evidence in the cellular structure, and the same goes for mind and charm magic in the brain. There was no evidence that living family magic had caused the creature’s death.”

  I frowned. “So that means … what? It wasn’t killed by injury or by magic?”

  “Not quite. There was no spell residue but there was something missing. The creature’s natural residual aura was only a fraction as strong as it should have been. Something drained the energy right out of the thing. The examiner thinks that was the cause of death, and I agree. Barghests are magical creatures. Take away their magic, no more barghest.”

  “Huh.” I stood thinking. “That’s not a normal way to kill something, is it?”

  “It’s not. What’s your interest in this?”

  “Favour for a friend. Do you want me to copy you in if I find anything?”

  “Please. Was there anything else?”

  “Yeah. Know anything about a woman called Mere-dith?”

  “Meredith … Dark, petite, late twenties to early thirties? Could cause a traffic accident walking down the street?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Unaligned mage. Affiliated with several different Council mages over the years, but she’s always stayed independent. Probably got a few connections in the Dark camp as well, though nothing’s been proven. She dabbled in politics for a while and used to be a regular on the social circuit, but she got too close to that business with Dagon last year and had her fingers burnt rather badly. Haven’t seen her at the balls since then.”

  I paced slowly up and down. “What type of mage?”

  “Enchantress. Not too powerful but very skilled. Could twist men around her little finger.”

  I stopped moving.

  “Verus? You there?”

  I was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah,” I said at last.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” I said. “No problem. Any connections?”

  “No master, no apprentices. Her name’s been linked with plenty of other mages, but the relationships never seem to last. They’re usually active in Council politics and always men. You can guess what the rumour mill has to say about that, but the truth is no one knows very much about her.”

  I stood quietly on the roof. “Thanks for the help,” I said eventually.

  “No problem. I take it you weren’t asking from academic interest.”

  “No.”

  Talisid sounded amused. “Well, consider yourself forewarned. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

  “Assuming I’m around to tell you. I’ll be in touch about the barghest.”

  “Good to hear. Until then.” Talisid hung up.

  I lowered the phone and stared down at it. The cool wind blew over me, ruffling my hair and chilling my bare arms, and I shivered.

  Enchantresses use charm magic, also known as emotion magic. Men who can use it are called enchanters, but they’re rarer and it’s always seen as one of the stereotypically female branches. They can’t affect thoughts and concepts in the way a mind mage can, but they’re masters of feeling and emotion. In terms of raw power they’re on the low end of the magical scale but they have one distinctive ability: their magic is incredibly hard to detect. It’s almost impossible to tell when an enchantress is using her magic and when she’s not. The whole distinction between magical and normal is much more fuzzy for enchantresses than it is for other mages; magic for them is as natural as talking and just as easy, and they’re sometimes not aware they’re using it at all.

  Mages tend to be wary of enchantresses, almost as much as they are of diviners. Our emotions are one of the most basic parts of what we are. The idea that someone can make you like or love or hate, and that there’s no way to know when they’re doing it … well, most people find it dis-turbing.

  Including me. As soon as Talisid had said the word enchantress, I’d had a jolt. Right now I was running back through my memories from last night. Had I been under Meredith’s spell? Was that why I’d let her in and helped her so readily? I’d hardly even asked her any questions. A subtle urge to trust, to protect …

  Or maybe it was what I would have done anyway. This is why charm magic’s such a headache. It could have been magic. Or it could have been because Meredith had needed my help and asked me for it, or because if I hadn’t acted she would have been killed right there on my shop floor, or because she was really hot and I’m single.

  I shook my head and started climbing back down to the balcony. It was time to ask Meredith some questions.

  The smell of frying bacon greeted me as I walked into the living room. The table was set, and Meredith was working at the kitchen unit. She looked different in the morning sunlight, but just as lovely. She turned at the sound of the opening door. “Oh, you’re up! I’ll be done in just a minute.”

  “Okay,” I said, but didn’t sit down. Instead I walked over to see bacon sizzling in the frying pan, along with some mushrooms.

  “Was it okay to use your kitchen?” Meredith asked. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “No, that’s fine. Uh … where did you find all this?” My kitchen isn’t exactly what you’d call well stocked.

  “Oh, I went out and got a couple of things. You don’t mind? I made some for you too.”

  “Thanks.” My breakfast usually doesn’t get any more advanced than cereal. This smelt really good.

  “Great!” Meredith took out a couple of mugs. “Tea or coffee? I didn’t know which you prefer so I made both.”

  “Tea would be great.” I’m used to being alone in the mornings. Looking around at the warm kitchen and the smell of cooking food, it occurred to me that this was really nice. Much better than eating on my own and—

  Suddenly I shook my head. What was I doing? I’d come in resolved to get some answers out of Meredith yet as soon as she’d started talking to me I’d forgotten all about it. “Look,” I said. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But I think it’s about time you explained what’s going on.”

  Meredith was turned away from me so that I couldn’t see her face. She didn’t react visibly. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you’ve got a pretty good idea.”

  Meredith paused a second, then turned and looked at me with those big dark eyes. “What do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with the basics. Who sent that thing after you and why were you coming to my shop last night?”

  Meredith hesitated. “It’s … Do you mind if we sit down?”

  I sat. Meredith moved things from the counter to the table. I waited, knowing she was going to speak eventually. “I don’t know their names,” she said at last.

  “How did you meet them?”

  “I didn’t! I’ve never met them.”

  “All right,” I said. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? How did you get involved in this?”

  Meredith leant against the counter, her hands wrapped around her arms. She was staring off into the corner and seemed to have forgotten about both me and the food. “It was …” She hesitated. “It was Belthas.”

  “Who’s Belthas?”

  “A Light mage. With the Council.”

  I didn’t recognise the name, but that wasn’t surprising. I know the names of the Junior and Senior Council and a few of the heavy hitters but I’m not well connected enough to know everyone the way Talisid does. “Same cabal?”

  Meredith shook her head. “No. He came to me and wanted my help with something. We’re not partners or anything … Oh, you know.”

  I nodded. A lot of business amongst mages gets done in these kinds of loose arrangements. Sometimes they last, sometimes they go their separate ways once the job’s done, and occasionally they fall apart right in the middle of what they’re supposed to be doing (doesn’t happen often, but when it does it’s usually spectacular). Once you start to pick up a reputation, it’s pretty common for mages to approach you with offers like this. Sometimes it’s genuine and sometimes it’s a con, and it can be tricky to tell which is which. “What did he want?”

  Meredith hesitated again. “I’m not sure—”

  “Come on, Meredith,” I said. “You want my help, this is part of the deal.”

  Meredith looked at me for a second, then turned back to the stove. She switched off the heating ring and the kettle and started putting out the food. I waited, knowing she was making up her mind about what to say.

  “Belthas told me about a group of Dark mages,” Meredith said without looking up. “They were supposed to have gotten their hands on some sort of ritual, something powerful. He wanted to stop them.”

  “What kind of ritual?”

  “I don’t know. He just told me that he wanted me to find out where they were.” Meredith set the plates down on the table with a clink. “I found they were in London and where they were going to be. Belthas and his men went to meet with them to make a deal. Something went wrong. There was a fight. After that, the Dark mages started hunting me. They knew I’d been talking to Belthas.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I was scared,” Meredith said quietly. “The other people at the meeting got hurt really badly. Belthas wasn’t answering and … and I came to you. You’ve done this sort of stuff before, haven’t you? With that thing that happened at the British Museum?”

  I picked up my knife and fork and took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  “But everyone says—”

  I cut across without raising my voice. “And if it were true, it would be covered by Council secrecy and I wouldn’t be allowed to talk about it.”

  “So … you did do all that?”

  I looked at Meredith silently. After a few seconds she dropped her eyes.

  “Meredith, don’t get the wrong idea,” I said. “I’m a diviner. I find things out. I don’t get into fights if I can help it. If you want a bodyguard, you’re in the wrong place.”

  Meredith looked down at the floor. “I haven’t anywhere else to go,” she said. “There isn’t anyone who’ll help me, not without …” She trailed off, staring at the wooden floor, looking very small and vulnerable.

  I suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for Meredith, wanted to help and protect her. I fought it off; I didn’t trust my feelings at the moment. “So you want my help,” I said.

  Meredith nodded, without raising her eyes.

  Damn it. The sensible thing would be to tell Meredith that I was sorry but it wasn’t my problem and turn her out. I didn’t want to get into a fight with a bunch of Dark mages and I didn’t know how much I could trust Meredith or what her real intentions were. I still had the feeling she wasn’t telling me everything.

  But I was pretty sure she was telling the truth about being scared. That construct had been no joke. If I hadn’t been there it would have killed her. And when it came right down to it, I hate turning someone away who’s come to me for help. It’s not that I’m especially selfless or anything, but I know what it’s like to be alone and hunted and afraid. I’ve seen the expression on people’s faces as they decide not to get involved, the look in their eyes as they shut you out, and I hate it. Maybe when it comes down to it, that’s all that matters.