Aster ignored his question and instead opened with, “I hear you lost a maid recently.” She let the words settle before she added, “Out on the streets and looking for new work. I’m surprised you let her go. She’s seen quite a bit of the inside of your house after all.”

  “Well, she begged for her life. Said she’d do anything.” Coal emphasised that last word.

  Aster smiled. “Ah, but who will employ her now?”

  “I suppose that depends on who her references are.”

  Coal’s reply was quick and Aster smiled again.

  “I enjoyed your show the other night,” Aster said as Coal summoned them some beverages, a whiskey and two small tumblers. She trailed off and gave the glasses a suspicious glare.

  Coal smiled and poured them both one. “Not poisoned this time I assure you,” Coal told her as he raised his own glass to his lips and drank from it. Not that that would alleviate her concerns. He’d done just as much the last time they’d conversed. “I’m curious as to how you heard about it?”

  Aster played dumb perhaps trying to figure out how much he actually knew first. “Well it was quite the spectacle. Many people saw it.”

  “I heard you were forewarned.”

  “Oh,” Aster remarked in fake surprise. She said no more than that.

  Convinced that was all she’d say for free, Coal pressed. “If there’s someone in my employ spilling secrets I would very much like to know who they are.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Once again, Aster revealed nothing. Instead, she reached for the glass he’d poured her and took a drink.

  The implication was clear to Coal. ‘Kill me and you’ll never know.’ Aster had always done a good job of digging up some useful information anytime her life might be threatened. Nothing ever came free with her though and right now Coal already owed her too much. The poison had forced her hand when he had needed it but he knew better than to push his luck again so soon. This time Coal stayed silent. A wise man always knew what to say and sometimes that meant saying nothing at all.

  Eventually Aster spoke. “It’s a pity the dragon didn’t happen to rid us of that other target. It would have been so easy for that pet of yours to make it look like an accident.”

  Coal knew she wasn’t referring to the dragon now, but to Amanda. He took his time with his next drink and then he said carefully, “That one is no assassin.”

  “Well, what are your assassins up to then? You can’t tell me you do your own handiwork. By the way, those macaroons were delicious, poison notwithstanding. I would like to know the name of your chef.” She took a pointed sip of the whiskey.

  Coal smiled. That was a potential future trade. Not the chef’s name, no, but perhaps some more of his food. Baz’s cooking was to die for. He’d had others say as much, some quite literally with their last words. He wouldn’t try the poison trick again though, not for quite some time at least. From the way Aster spoke he was certain she meant what she said both literally and as a veiled threat. She knew enough to know Coal would not give her the chef’s name though.

  Aster continued speaking. “As it so happens, it’s lucky it worked out the way it did. I would like to renegotiate our deal.”

  Coal sighed internally. Externally he tried not to react as anything other than calm. It had been too good to be true. “Your contact didn’t pan out then?”

  “On the contrary. I’ve found something even better.” She paused to smile.

  Coal met her eyes. He’d threatened her in the hopes she’d have a solution to Natasha’s death. A resurrection ritual that would work long term and when conducted some time after death. Alas, even Aster had had issues with that. She’d mentioned a contact she’d thought could help but had refused with dying breath to give him the name. She’d insisted only she could talk to the person. Coal now assumed that had just been a ploy. It seemed proper necromancy was an elusive art form. And yet, her tone just now...

  “A ritual?” he asked. It would have to be a ritual. A simple infusement would not be strong enough, and there would be no getting around the blood tax.

  “I hear you pilfered the Milton place?”

  Coal frowned. Where was she going with this?

  “Rumour had it, Ms Milton was immortal.”

  “Evidently that was just a rumour,” Coal replied trying his best to keep the growl out of his tone. He wasn’t holding out much hope for a solution now. At least he wouldn’t have to figure out a way to kill the boy, although perhaps he should just to keep in her good graces, assuming she still wanted that.

  “Perhaps.” Aster held out a picture of a young woman.

  Coal didn’t move to take it for several seconds. He simply asked, “What’s this?”

  When Aster didn’t answer and just kept holding it out he sighed and reached out to take it. She didn’t make any attempts to touch him which was good.

  “What’s this?” There was a name on the back of the photo. It read ‘Mya Pierce.’ It wasn’t a name Coal recognised although he got the feeling he should.

  “A new target.”

  Coal was quiet several seconds. Where had he seen her before? Or heard her name mentioned?

  He was saved from revealing his ignorance when the door to the room suddenly opened. A young girl with blonde hair tied up in a ponytail stuck her head around the corner. She was wearing a black outfit. One of Aster’s foot-staff.

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  “Mam, I’m sorry. I couldn’t remember, did you say you wanted salmon or tuna?”

  Aster sighed. “Polly, what have I told you about knocking?”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll...” she started to pull her head back out of the room.

  Aster gave another loud sigh. “Come here,” she demanded of the girl.

  The girl paused.

  “Come here,” Aster demanded again, more forcefully this time.

  The girl did as told.

  “Closer.” Aster beckoned.

  The way the girl did as asked so quickly made it obvious to Coal that she was new and did not know Aster well at all.

  Aster kept beckoning her right up until the girl stood only inches away.

  Coal knew what was likely going to happen but the wide-eyed expression on the girl’s face said she didn’t.

  As the girl leaned in close, perhaps expecting Aster to whisper something, Aster suddenly reached up a bare hand and laid it against the girl’s skin.

  Starting at the place where Aster touched her cheek, the girl’s face withered and died, her skin turning to leather before finally crumbling to ash. The rest of her body followed until nothing remained but a pile of grey dirt on the floor.

  Coal was never sure how fast Aster’s magic worked. Did her victims get a second to know what what was happening? Or did it kill them before it turned them to dust? The way their expression froze made him assume they were unaware. As one of the rare thanatokinetics Coal knew in person, Aster’s magic was gruesomely beautiful to watch.

  “Brian!” Aster called out.

  “Yes?” A man walked straight though the wall on Coal’s left.

  Aster gestured at the pile of dust that had moments before been Polly. “We’re going to need a vacuum.”

  “Of course, Mam.” The man fixed his gaze on the dust as if committing it to memory and then he disappeared back into the wall. A moment later the dust vanished.

  Aster sighed. “It’s so hard to find good staff these days.”

  Coal gave a nod of agreement. The brief interruption had brought him the time he needed to place the girl in Aster’s photograph.

  “She’s on the vampire side if I’m not mistaken. Wouldn’t that negatively impact your shipments? Why would you want to damage your profits?”

  “I don’t. I want to create a martyr.”

  “And you wish me to organise it?”

  “Well, given my position in the blood business I don’t want it pointing back to me do I? There’s too many traitors in the Emerald city and you have just reason for wanting her dead. They’ll believe you did this on your own initiative.”

  “And you’re certain that will work?”

  “I have evidence the opposition has been planning the exact same thing. If I can place the blame on them while also sewing some mistrust among them... in fact it was one of your people who was approached about the job. Two birds one stone shall we say?”

  Coal felt like he should know who she was talking about but he didn’t. “One of mine?”

  “A lawyer.”

  “Oh.” To buy himself more time while he thought about that revolution Coal said, “What does this have to do with the Milton residence?”

  “Another rumour. According to friends who run in certain art circles, supposedly Tricia Milton owned three necromancy infusements in the form of brightly coloured urns. Rumour has it they’re what kept her young.”

  Coal didn’t tell her that he’d already tried one of the jars. That it was in fact the cause of his current predicament. The fact that there were three was news to him though. “Three?”

  “To be used together no doubt.”

  “No doubt.” He’d have to confer with Grim on that. It was possible that whatever Natasha had done had broken the infusement though. But if he could get his hands on the other two... Just how much did Aster know though? How to ask without revealing how many he had?

  Aster smiled expectantly at him waiting for him to make his move.

  “You had a proposition I presume?” Coal pressed.

  She wriggled her nose and lips, obviously annoyed that he’d given nothing away. “I may know the location of one of the urns,” Aster replied.

  Coal resisted a proper smile. So she knew where one was. “And in return...” His gaze found the photograph. “What about the boy?”

  Aster’s expression took on a hard look. There were things she was not saying. Deals she’d made with others perhaps. He’d see what Lucifer knew later. “Don’t worry about him for now,” she replied. “Get me my Martyr and I’ll tell you where your urn is.”

  Coal narrowed his eyes. Wording was important. “I’ll get you a revolution leader’s body.”

  “A martyr,” she insisted with a fixed look. There would be no negotiation on that it seemed.

  Coal gave a single nod. Perhaps there would be another way he could find those other necromancy urns. Whichever turned out easier. Of course, ignoring Aster’s deals was never easy but unlike some of the people he dealt with, at least Aster was flexible. Renegotiation was always on the table with her.

  Aster held out her hand.

  Coal eyed it in much the same way Aster had eyed the whiskey earlier.

  Aster gave him a knowing look.

  Success rarely came without risk Coal reminded himself and the aristocracy was built on the illusion of trust and politeness.

  Coal reached out and shook her hand.

  When he returned to the chess board in the other room, Lucifer was gone. Instead he found Stella, looking flawlessly and impossibly beautiful as always, like some other-world creature that wasn’t quite real. She was sitting alone and she looked up and turned her head toward him even before he’d gotten close enough to indicate his presence. It was as if she’d been waiting for him. He had no doubt that she had been.

  “Would you like to play a game of chess?” she asked. Rather than waiting for an answer she then smiled and bit her lip ever so seductively and followed up with, “Black or white?”

  She let him answer this time.

  “Black,” he replied. He liked black for two reasons. One, black was a sleek colour which never looked dirty no matter how much blood was spilt on it, and two, black was the underdog and Coal liked a challenge.

  One would think that playing chess against a psychic would be a lost cause and there were days when it seemed like Coal could not beat Stella, but there were also days when they seemed far more evenly matched, as well as days when all Coal needed to do was wait for Stella to make a blunder and victory would be his. He was not sure how much of her power she used for this. It was quite possible that the variation in her play-style was simply down to her state of mind on the day. He never asked and Stella never offered. There was much about their relationship that was like that. Much that he did not know. He knew nothing of her upbringing for instance, but somehow whenever he got to thinking that perhaps he ought to get to know her better, she seemed to show up in his life less.

  Stella made her move, f4.

  So it was going to be one of those games was it. Coal took a seat and pushed forward his king’s pawn.

  Stella eyed the board.

  “To trade or not to trade?” Coal queried.

  “The question is which trade,” Stella replied as she took his pawn. “And when, and where, and whose.”

  Coal moved his knight but didn’t reply.

  Stella mirrored his play. Then she smiled coyly at him. “His name is Baelfyre.”

  Coal traded, making them even on pieces and let her keep talking.

  Stella pushed her queen’s pawn, threatening his knight. “The one who wanted to trade with Kass. He’s from the north, knows her from there.”

  “The lawyer,” Coal murmured as he pulled back his knight, only just now realising who Aster had been referring to.

  Stella smiled and took the centre of the board.

  Coal attacked her knight. “Will it have the effect that she thinks it will?”

  “You should ask Kass that.” She finally made the move Coal thought she should have made a few turns back, and brought her other knight into play.

  Coal attempted to reclaim the centre, pushing his pawn to d5. He was sure Stella knew what the outcome would be but there was no point in asking her if she didn’t want to tell him.

  Stella took his pawn, leaving their kings eyeing each other across the board. She remained quiet, waiting for his inevitable question.

  What was left to ask?

  He pushed the queen forward, taking her pawn. “When?”

  Stella shook her head. “Where.” She backed up her threatened knight with the bishop. “And the answer is Mercy.” Her eyes sparkled like she was making a joke.

  Coal took her knight. “No mercy,” he replied with a rare playful grin.

  “Not today,” she answered, then “Check.”