"I recognize this one." Falco started across the room for John. "The high lord wants his head."
Cyprien grabbed Jaus's seneschal from behind just as he was lifting his sword to decapitate Keller. "No. You are not to harm him."
"He betrayed you." Falco gave Cyprien an incredulous look. "He exposed your men, your jardin. Your sygkenis. Tremayne has sent word to all Darkyn. This man cannot live."
"John." A thin man with hair that resembled a bunch of thin, gnarled carrots came in through the door. He was holding a scarred baseball bat. "Why are there are a frog and a Nazi in my pantry, and"—his eyes widened as he saw Falco's sword—"why does one think he's Highlander?"
John, who had been braced against the wall, straightened. "Dougall, go back in the kitchen."
"I know I said you could have personal visitors after hours," Dougall said, swinging the baseball bat back and forth, "but I gotta say, John, I don't much like your friends." He turned to Cyprien. "You look pretty smart. Do you know how long it takes the Chicago police to get here after a nine-one-one call about a homicide in progress? I made it two minutes ago."
"Falco." Cyprien caught John's gaze. "We will meet again."
"Not on these premises, you won't, you French-fried fuck," Dougall called after Cyprien as he and Falco left the storage room.
Cyprien and Falco chose a convenient lookout spot on one of the roofs nearby, and waited there while the police arrived. Five minutes after the four responding patrol officers went into the Haven, they emerged with John Keller and the carrot-headed man. The latter was still holding his baseball bat, and was arguing with Keller.
"You didn't know those guys," Cyprien heard Dougall say, "but they Sure as shit seemed to know you."
"Mr. Keller, they could come back another night," one of the cops warned him. "If you can identify them, we can pick them up for questioning."
"Shove the questioning," Dougall said. "One of those guys was carrying a sword, and the other one buried a meat cleaver in my wall. I'm pressing charges."
"I don't know who they were; I've never seen those men before tonight," Keller lied. "I'm sorry I can't help you. They must have mistaken me for someone else."
Cyprien frowned. Why was Keller trying to protect them? For Alexandra's sake, or his own?
"Seigneur, the trail ends in this place," Falco said as they watched the police finish interviewing the two men. "The assassin must be here."
"We cannot search for him now." Cyprien watched the police cars drive off, and Dougall give John's shoulder a push and demand in a loud voice to know what the hell was going on. "We will return tomorrow night."
John spread out his hands, then turned his back on Dougall and walked away down the street.
"I could take him now," Falco said, soft and persuasive. "It would look as if he ran afoul of street criminals. I will keep my silence on it. She need never know, seigneur."
Cyprien shook his head. A boy wearing a baseball cap and jacket slipped out of the shelter and walked in the same direction Keller had gone. "Put out the word among the other men. No one is to harm John Keller."
Michael wanted to follow Alexandra's brother. If he had been telling the truth, he still might know who the assassin was. But Keller would tell him nothing if he were dead. First he would return to Derabend, and make his bargain with Tremayne. There was one thing Richard wanted more than John Keller dead, and Michael would see that he got it.
Then there would be time for everything else. Time to find the Brethren who had compromised Jaus's security, and reveal the traitor within his jardin. Time to take John Keller, and convince him to tell Michael everything he wanted to know.
When they descended from the rooftop, Falco paused and turned his face into the cold wind. "There." He pointed to the side of a tenement across the street. "Human blood."
They went together around the building. Michael saw the body hanging upside down from the fire escape at the same time he heard Jaus's seneschal draw his sword.
"Put it away." He walked around the pool of blood on the ground and looked up into the face of the dead man. Because he had been hung by his feet, blood from his slit throat coated his face. There was only a strip of pale flesh where it had parted in two streams—just below the diamond-studded arrow piercing his right eyebrow. "Help me cut down the body."
"You'll have to help me do this, Val."
Recovering from the crossbow wound was taking more time than Alex had expected, and the sling she had to wear to keep her arm from moving was simply irritating. So was being able to do things with only one hand.
"I am still not certain of the reason why you need a sample of my blood," Jaus said as he tied the strap around his upper arm for her. "Mine will be as Michael's is, I should think.""All my Kyn samples were destroyed in a fire in New Orleans, so I need to collect a few more. Analyzing them will help me nail the specific pathogens involved. This will sting." She inserted the copper-tipped needle into his arm and popped the collection vial on the other end. The vial's empty glass tube slowly filled with blood. "Back when you could change humans without killing them, how long did it take for them to switch over?"
He seemed amused by her wording. "A few days. Two or three in most cases." He shrugged. "I did not turn many humans. I never felt at ease with subjecting them to a life wrought by my curse."
"You are not—"
"Cursed. As you have said before. I hope you are correct." He watched her remove the vial and needle, and swab the tiny dot of remnant blood from his arm. "I have persuaded some of the men to provide more samples for you. Have you everything here that you need?"
"I think so." She gazed around at the laboratory Jaus had set up for her. It duplicated most of the hospital Cyprien had once provided for her in the basement of his New Orleans mansion. "I did remember to say thank-you for all this stuff, didn't I?"
"Your reaction was most adequate. I cannot recall the last time I heard that many colorful epithets. I am making a list of them for the next time I am surprised. I will send in the volunteers now." Jaus bowed and retreated from the lab.
Alex collected a few more samples from Jaus's cooperative, if somewhat surly, men, and spent the next several hours analyzing them. She was so engrossed in the testing that she didn't realize Cyprien was standing beside her until he put a hand on her good arm.
Even then she didn't look way from the test slide she was examining. "Is it important, or something that is going to give me a shrieking orgasm?"
"You have been locked in here half the night," he said. "You should feed and rest. The orgasm is, of course, optional."
"Later." She lifted her eyes from the scope lenses and sighed. "I don't get it."
"Orgasms?" He bent to kiss her with slow, devastating thoroughness. "You have been faking? All this time?"
"Smart-ass. Have a look." She pointed to the scope, and he peered into the lenses.
"What am I looking at?" he asked.
"My blood smear. Take a mental snapshot." She removed the slide and replaced it with another. "This is your blood smear. See the difference?"
"Yes, but you will have to explain what the difference is. Please use small words."
"My blood is more human than yours. It's more human than any of the samples I've taken from Jaus and the boys." She picked up the slide with her blood and held it up to the light. "No matches."
His hand did something gentle and arousing to the back of her neck. "Your blood may take time to change, as you did."
"True, or my blood isn't changing the same way. Kind of like my mutation isn't going the same way yours did." She placed the slide in a protective case. "I don't have any samples of my blood as it was prior to infection, or just before the change. That's what I really need to see to determine how this thing is moving along. Maybe the hospital kept some from when I was in ICU."
"Those samples were removed from the hospital and destroyed." He returned her outraged look blandly. "We could not risk the exposure, Alexandra. We never allow our blood to be taken by humans. That is why Jaus's men are so unhappy about donating samples for you. Among the Kyn, such things are not done."
She considered arguing the point, but he was right about the exposure. A hematologist would have a field day with Kyn blood. "Well, without them I can't go any further with this." She thought for a minute, laughed at herself for the idea that popped into her mind, and shook her head. "No, that'll never work."
"You said the same thing about us."
"If I obtained a sample of blood genetically close to my own, that would help," she told him. "But to my knowledge, there's only one person in the world who can give me that, and we aren't speaking."
"Your brother."
"Who Valentin thinks is trying to kill you," she added. "He told me about your little hunting trip last night with Falco. It wasn't John, you know. He's a world-class prick sometimes, but he doesn't have it in him. Also, he doesn't know German, which was what Crossbow Killer was thinking in."
Cyprien didn't say anything.
"I mean it, Michael. It wasn't him. As for the blood, I'll put it on hold for now." She picked up a used syringe. "I'm just going run a test on this needle and then I'll go drink dinner. I hope Jaus has restocked his O positive."
He frowned. "Why are you testing needles?"
"I swiped this one from Jema Shaw at the hospital. I wanted to see what sort of insulin her doctor is using to control her diabetes." She carefully extracted a trace of residue from the syringe and transferred it to a paper test strip. "Synthetic insulin isn't as effective as the real human variety, and some of the stuff we import from overseas is downright dangerous. She also acted a little weird after she gave herself a shot." She glanced at him. "Lately you seem awfully interested in everything I'm doing."