Chapter 11: Guilt - The Night Market

The afternoon light was soft when Pepper woke, filtered through the drawn blinds of her bedroom back in Leroux Tower. Window open, the faint hum of the city below was muffled, distant, like the world had forgotten her for a moment.

Her head throbbed gently, the dull pulse of a night spent drinking cheap wine and being distracted from the obvious. The bag she’d dragged over from her flat still sat half unpacked by the wardrobe, clothes spilling from its open mouth like it had made an attempt to organise them, got halfway, and then gave up.

She rolled onto her side, groaning, and her eyes landed on the photo frame resting beside her on the bed. Claire’s arm was looped around her shoulders, both of them laughing at something stupid. The kind of laugh that felt like nothing bad could ever reach them.

For a long moment she just stared. The sun, weak and pale through the blinds, caught on the glass, laying a thin sheen across their faces. Pepper could almost hear the echo of that laugh. She couldn’t remember what was being shared when it was taken, but that barely mattered.

The stillness of the room pressed around her. Faint sounds of traffic bled through the window. Life kept moving, indifferent.

Her throat tightened, the ache rising sharp and sudden. That photo had survived being packed and unpacked more times than she could count, jammed into bags, kept on nightstands in places she couldn’t stay long enough to call home. And still, somehow, it looked untouched.

A small sound escaped her – half-laugh, half-sob – and she pressed her lips together, trying to swallow it back, to no avail. The guilt crawled up her ribs like something living, reminding her how long it had been since she’d last seen that smile in person, how every smile now was glazed with the contribution of constant pain.

She wiped at her eyes quickly, angry at herself for slipping. Angrier still for allowing the weakness to surface. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t break again – not here, not while she was this close. The photo was a reminder, a weight she carried willingly and hated all the same.

For a heartbeat, she almost turned the frame face down. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Pepper sat up, running her fingers through her hair. Her heart was tight, aching with guilt. She needed to get back to the mission, the Eternal Rose, the only thing that mattered. All the rest of this – sleeping in sheets that didn’t smell like home, watching movies with a fucking vampire of all things – was temporary. She needed to get her head together. Keep her eyes on the prize. Not get distracted any further.

She pulled on yesterday’s jeans and padded out of her bedroom barefoot.

Laik was there, naturally. He was perched on one of the stools by the kitchen counter, sharpening the kitchen knives with calm, precise strokes. The sound – a quiet shhhk-shhhk-shhhk – was smooth and dangerous. His hair was damp from a shower, his shirt buttoned crisp. He looked as unruffled as ever.

Pepper leaned on the doorframe, rubbing her temples. ‘Do you ever sleep?’

Laik glanced up briefly. ‘Not when I have a million things to do.’

‘Figures,’ she muttered, heading for the counter to pour herself a drink of water. The glass trembled slightly in her hand.

‘You don’t look great,’ he said, nonchalantly.

She scowled. ‘Thanks. Just what every woman wants to hear in the morning.’

‘I meant hungover.’

‘Oh, well then, that’s different.’ She took a sip, grimacing. ‘Guess I can’t keep up with you.’

He shrugged faintly, returning to his task. ‘It’s a perk. My body burns through it quicker. It takes a lot to get us drunk.’

‘Must be nice.’ She eyed him, pressing her backside against the sink, watching the blades glint with each stroke.

‘I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?’

‘No, not at all. Apart from forcing me to watch some stupid movies? No.’

‘Good.’ She took to her drink again.

‘Well, you were getting a little bit handsy during that Dracula film.’

Pepper immediately spluttered while taking a mouthful, the water bursting within the confines of her glass. She looked honestly shocked before realising he was having her on.

‘Oh you wish.’

She wiped her mouth with the back of a hand and took an actual gulp this time.

‘After last night, I’m not really up for this sodding party later, if I’m being honest. Last thing I need.’

‘You and me both,’ he muttered, depositing a knife upon the countertop and reaching for the next in line. ‘But I don’t think we have much of a choice.’

Pepper snorted, half laughing, half exhausted, and took another gulp from her drink. It still didn’t taste any better, but at least it was doing the trick of waking her up.

‘Ugh . . . Don’t I know it.’

‘Entertaining must be done,’ Laik said, flicking the edge of a cook’s knife with his thumb and eyeing up its condition. ‘Otherwise, someone will whisper that the Cavendishes are turning their noses up at the other Families. And then the politics begin.’

‘Oh, the hours will just fly by for me,’ she replied dryly.

The shhhk-shhhk-shhhk returned as Laik offered the hint of a smirk. ‘You’ll be working. That’s different.’

‘Exactly,’ Pepper said, raising the glass again. ‘I’ll be working while you’ll be schmoozing and eating nice things while I’m fetching drinks and pretending not to eavesdrop.’

‘I’ll be on duty too, you know.’

She didn’t answer. He was right. Her fingers had wandered to the locket. She stared at it, the metal warm now. Then, after a long silence, she shifted forward.

‘I’m getting impatient, Laik. I need the Rose.’

‘I’m fully aware. And we shall get it.’

She looked at him, eyes sharpened now. ‘Are you? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you’re letting me do all the legwork. Which, if you hadn’t noticed, is a bit unfair.’

Laik slowed his motions, looking up.

‘My job is making sure you don’t get exposed and torn apart in front of the canapés. Unless you want me to neck you and give you a more convincing disguise.’

She frowned, unimpressed.

‘Please. You wouldn’t bite me.’

‘Maybe I would do it to the end instead. Leave you dead.’

‘You wouldn’t do that either.’

‘Why?’

‘You like having me around too much.’

He didn’t miss a beat.

‘If I didn’t bite you, it wouldn’t be because of the company—’

‘Lies.’

‘No, it’ll be because I suspect you’d taste awful.’

She huffed, drumming her fingers along the side of her glass.

‘Alright. Idea. What if we use the party?’ she asked, eyes flicking up to meet his. ‘Could we use it as cover? Get into Floor Sixty-Five?’

Laik leaned back in his chair, waggling the knife in his hand in her direction.

‘Unlikely. Not with so many from other Families around. Security will be doubled. Cameras, patrols, sniffers. Every delivery would be checked. It puts us Enforcers on edge more than usual, so we’re always checking blind spots or being overzealous in sweeping floors.’

She rolled her eyes, slumping into her hands. ‘Then how do we get in there?’

He shrugged.

‘The elevator.’

She stared at him. ‘Jesus, Laik . . .’

‘I’m serious. The ducts to the floor are sealed. Windows are reinforced, blast-proof. Even the stairwell is blocked off, literally stops on the floors over and under. It’s called the Vault for a reason. The only way to get up there is by the main elevator with a security card with specific access.’

‘Which would belong to . . .?’

‘The Cavendishes, naturally,’ he said, sliding the finished knives into a block on the countertop. ‘Archivists, researchers, technicians too. But they’re tight, and getting close to one risks exposure. Maintenance teams have to lease them from Security, and they’re escorted by an Enforcer the entire time. Hell, I’m not even allowed to wander up there on my lonesome with what they have locked away.’

Pepper leaned in again, lowering her voice.

‘So, either we get someone to let us in, or we lift a card.’

‘That’s about the size of it.’ He went back to his sharpening.

She studied him now, really studied him. Then, with that familiar twist of edge, she said, ‘Still surprised you’re going to these lengths to help me . . .’

Laik met her gaze without blinking. ‘I’m not helping you,’ he said. ‘I’m helping me. We made a deal. I get you close, you get the Rose, save your sister. Then you hand it over, and I do what I need. That’s all this is. If you hadn’t almost pulled it off last time, you wouldn’t be sitting here. You’d be dead.’

She raised her eyebrows, tasting the rising impatience.

‘Is that the vampire talking? Or the big scary thing inside you that hid away when we met? From the way I see it, neither wanted to off me.’

His jaw tightened, just a fraction.

‘What was that, by the way?’ she asked, eyes narrowing in mock curiosity. She pursed her lips. ‘Was it me? Did I scare it? Do girls give it the willies? Maybe it just found me too pretty.’

Laik rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. But Pepper made a sudden realisation that hitched her breath, and despite the gravity of it, she couldn’t help but tease further.

‘Wait . . . don’t tell me you don’t even know why it got spooked?’

‘Drop it.’

She shifted forward, grin sharpening.

‘Oh my God. You don’t, do you? That’s actually terrifying. What the hell even is it?’

His voice snapped before he could help himself.

‘It stopped because it doesn’t like you! It doesn’t trust you. There’s something in you that makes it uncomfortable. It doesn’t know who you are and frankly, neither do I. And the more you go on, the more I get where it’s coming from.’

‘Who are you to—’

‘The guy protecting your ass! But you’re always firing at me with the attitude. Making comments. You’ve got this thing with your sister, like I know full well, because you don’t stop banging on about it. How many others out there are struggling, Pepper? How many others feel the time running out and are powerless to do anything about it? Debt, illness, homelessness? Forced to make the bad choices, shacked up to the wrong people? Plenty, I tell you. You, on the other hand, you have a chance to actually remedy the situation, and all you can do is piss off the only man in the position to help!’

Pepper shoved back from the sink, slamming her glass down, fingers tight around it.

‘But you ain’t a man,’ Pepper stated, her voice low. ‘You’re something different.’

Laik patiently put down the knife and glowered.

‘You drive me mad. You think I enjoy this? Things were nice and quiet before you came along and messed it all up. Do you think that I want to be stuck acting like friends with the likes of you?’ Laik added, quieter now, but with the same venom.

She stood there, trembling with the weight of everything she wasn’t saying. Then spoke bitterly.

‘But we’re not pretending to be friends, are we? We’re pretending to be family. Which is so much worse.’

Before she could stop herself, Pepper launched the glass she was holding into the sink. It shattered with an explosion of noise as shards bounced around inside. Without another word, she stormed off down the hallway and threw the bedroom door shut behind her with a final, echoing slam.