Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [68]
“And the boy?”
“In the cage. Easier to keep an eye on him that way.” Douglas leaned back from the window. “The lazy part of me’s hoping she’ll eat him. Save me the hassle of training him.”
“I’m sure Michael would volunteer.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would.” They both stared out the window, James examining the grounds, Douglas looking at the stars. Not many were visible.
“Perhaps,” James said, “it is time for a trip to one of your vacation homes. The San Juans, I think. Maybe take a sail around a few of the harbors.”
Douglas grew still. “What makes you suggest the island house?”
“You seem unsettled.”
“I feel unsettled.”
James leapt up onto the windowsill, his tail flicking back and forth in a lazy fashion. “But why? Little hiccups have happened, but nothing you can’t handle. Everything seems to be flowing in your direction.”
Douglas made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “Does it?”
James’s tail flicked again, this time more sharply. “The police have found the body of the girl, but they have nothing in the way of evidence.”
Douglas scoffed. “The police.” He had never found them to be particularly threatening, and he currently saw no reason to believe otherwise. “What could the police possibly do?”
James ignored his question and continued. “You have the boy. You have the tánaiste. And with your experiments, well.” He turned his head from the view of the water to Douglas, his eyes like liquid mercury in the moonlight. “Your power base grows every minute.”
“You think I’m being foolish.”
“It isn’t my place.”
“When has that ever made you hold your tongue?”
James arched his back and resettled. The twitching of his tail would have told Douglas how agitated he was if his tone hadn’t already told him the same thing.
“You’re worried?” Douglas said.
“Yes.”
“You never worry,” Douglas said, amused despite himself.
James kept his face pointed toward the lake. “You’re a powerful man, Douglas. But I’m afraid.”
“That I’ll lose?” Douglas smiled. “Don’t fret, my friend; I’ve made arrangements for your upkeep.”
“I don’t think you’ll lose.”
“That I’ll win, then?”
“I don’t think you’ve thought the repercussions through. Right now, the other Councils are happy to let you puppetmaster your people. But if you topple them completely, if you establish rule, they cannot let that go. It will be war, Douglas.” He paused, his tail flicking. “And if they find the cage, or your notebooks”—he turned and blinked those mercury eyes at him—“war will be the least of your worries.”
Those precious little notebooks, all lined up neatly on their shelves, would hang him. They both knew that. What he’d done to get the information would be deemed criminal. But the information itself? That carefully hidden knowledge plied from the flesh? Well, they’d find ways to destroy him several times over. Most creatures didn’t like their sense of safety violated, their weak spots known outside their own tribe. And Douglas was coming damned close to knowing it all.
“Yes, I know.” Douglas breathed in the scent of lake and pine all around him. A boat cut through the water, causing a wake that broke upon the shore. “If I stopped every time I did something risky, I wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
“If you’re so sure,” James asked, “then why do you feel unsettled?”
Douglas tapped the windowpane with his thumb. “Maybe I’m beginning to feel my age. Or perhaps I’m in need of a change of scenery.”
“Perhaps.” James jumped down from the windowsill. His tail swished as he sauntered toward the door. “I’m going to make a sweep of the perimeter,” he said from the hallway. “There’s a strange smell on the breeze.”
Douglas listened to him leave. The water swirled around the rocks until the wake died down. He settled into an old overstuffed chair in the corner of his study. Hands on the rich fabric, head back, eyes closed, Douglas listened to the night