Infernal Investigations

I stalked off with nothing but anger in my stomach. Anger at many things, changers, Montague, Voltar, Versalicci, a half dozen other things, but mostly myself.

Had I even felt when I’d started calling on Diabolism? All I remembered was slamming Voltar against the wall, the anger at the constant prodding, and it had found a way in.

“How much of that was you, you little rat?” I whispered, only to get no answer from the passenger in my head.

No, blaming the Imp wasn’t going to help. Some of this was on me.

“Malvia?”

I turned around and saw Gregory walking down the hallway toward me. Voltar and Dawes were heading into a room near the closet we’d freed them, probably unwilling to head this way while I was still here. Gregory caught up, expression cautious like he was approaching a rat he suspected would bite if he got too close.

He probably wasn’t wrong, but it just made me feel even worse.

“It’s probably best if we don’t walk alone through the manor,” Gregory said.

I nodded stiffly. “It is just down the hall, so I don’t think it’s necessary, but you are right that we have at least two unaccounted for. Three maybe. Something I didn’t have a chance to bring up with those two was why the changers had imprisoned them instead of killing them both.”

“Three of them?”

“I don't see how the two changers who tied them up could have also been trying to get at your brother,” I said. “They’d have to be in two places at once, and we haven’t seen them be able to divide themselves. Yet.”

“Well, that’s a horrifying thought to keep me up all of tonight in addition to everything else. Thank you, Malvia.”

“It’s not very likely,” I said. “If they could do that with anything approaching regularity, I doubt changers would hide as much as they do. No, there were at least four here tonight. Interesting that only two of them revealed themselves.”

“Cutting their losses?”

“Possibly. I think Voltar and Dawes aren’t telling us their entire story. But they’re hardly the only ones. What do you think your father is doing right now?”

Gregory stopped, and I paused as he looked up at the ceiling as if he could peer through it to see his father as he sucked in a breath.

“You are not stabbing my father,” he said, lowering iron-hard eyes to meet mine.

“I didn’t plan on it,” I confessed. “I doubt he’s a Shapechanger. It would be the height of stupidity for them to pretend to be one of their own identities.”

“If they replaced him after they started meetings with the Pure Bloods as him, it’s a possibility.”

“Who is trying to convince who of what here?” I said. “It’s possible, but his actions tonight, I think, were after a different angle. Although I might be wrong, and maybe they are that dumb.”

“Tonight might support that,” Gregory said. “They were so overt.”

“Not necessarily the worst angle, given their situation,” I said. “There is something off, though. They know we know, and so regardless of the outcome tonight, we’d suspect your brother of being a changer. Which means something else was the goal tonight. Is it possible to get to the archives from the third floor of your manor?”

“No,” Gregory said immediately before narrowing his eyes. “Wait, let me correct that. As far as I know, there’s no way, and I’ve never seen or heard of my father getting in them in a manner I’m unaware of. And if I don’t know, I doubt the changers do.”

“They might have made a wager with your brother as a consolation prize,” I said. “I need to get inside them.”

Gregory chuckled. “That’s definitely not happening. Given his recent attitude, and what you are implying, Father probably won’t even let me inside them in the coming weeks.”

“Well,” I said. “We don’t have to go in there with his permission.”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe. It depends on what you intend.”

“A conversation for later, maybe,” I said. “On another topic, a private interview with your father is also worth discussing.”

“No,” he said bluntly. “Especially not one on one between you and him.”

I grimaced, my next step off and only causing more pain as my splinted hoof touched the carpeting.

“I can understand why you have reservations, given what just happened,” I said. “But it would be nowhere near the same with him.”

“It’s not happening Malvia,” he said, with a tone that might as well be forged out of steel. I held my tongue, figuring nothing good would come of continuing.

It really wasn’t far back to the ballroom. We emerged on the second floor, the first not having changed since we left. More Watch had arrived, their numbers now nearing thirty. There was a small knot of them at the base of the stairs talking, Malstein among them.

He acknowledged us with a nod before returning to the discussion. The other two were a human woman with a long scar over her eye running from chin to hairline, the other a stocky dwarf who looked more clerk than watch member. The officers probably involved in the scheme to distract Malstein and to arrest me.

I looked down at the dance floor, and a stupid, enticing idea lodged in my head. It was insanity to ask, but...it might be worth the risk.

“This will sound silly,” I admitted. “My leg is broken, I hardly look my best, but still….would you perhaps give me the honor of a dance Lord Gregory?”

Gregory looked at me, hesitancy all over his face, and my heart sank. This…this had been the wrong time.

“Normally, I would say yes, but-”

I hated how my mind hung itself on that ‘but.’ I read romance novels, yes, but I’d always thought I could handle the situations much better than those blushing ingenues waiting to be swept off their feet. Now, here I was, doing even worse than they would. It was pitiful, ridiculous even. I was a member of the Black Flame, a diabolist, a practitioner of three arts with a body count that should have me hung by the Watch. And here I was waiting for what was coming after that ‘but’.

“The ballroom floor is fairly littered with corpses, the changer’s corpse, and chunks of the ceiling,” Gregory continued. “Also, your leg may not be in the best shape for it.”

There was nothing I could refute as I swallowed any illogical objections to his points. “Perhaps another time?”

“Perhaps,” he replied in a noncommittal tone.

I tried not to wilt. I…it had been an overreach.

“Well,” I said. “I think perhaps I should go back and see if I can try to clean up some of the mess I made.”

Gregory frowned, opening his mouth, but I cut him off before he could object.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Like I said before, it is just down the hall. Besides, you have a family you wish to make sure are alright, don’t you?”

I turned around, not giving him a chance to respond. Truthfully, I wanted solitude, even for a bit. Or perhaps?

There was no noise of walking behind me. He had not followed.

I’d messed something up, but wracking my brain, I couldn’t think of what. Maybe the night’s events had been too chaotic? Maybe a few nights' distance between what had happened would help?

But why was I so hung up on this? Why? It’s not like I was some blushing teenage girl. That had already happened, had ended humiliatingly, and I had not pined half as much!

I’d had flings, as both Malvia Harrow and Katheryn Falara, a few relationships that had lasted a little longer, and something best described as a brief, ongoing disaster with Skall. Yet something about this had shoved a dagger into my heart and started jostling it at the worst possible times.

Was it as shallow as him being a human noble? Was this just me trying to live out some fantasy from a book I’d read?

Was I just chasing an illusion I’d built myself? A bit of forced, fake happiness in a miserable time?

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think of anything else, like the meeting soon to come.

As much as I disliked the idea, it was time to go back and make an apology. As long as Voltar did not open his mouth, I might even manage it. I could even hear the sounds of them talking up ahead. I sighed, trying to tune them out, but the first words I heard made me pause.

“-Are you certain they are both gone?” the voice of Dawes said, low, but I could make out every word.

“They both went to the Ballroom,” Voltar replied evenly. “And before you ask, there is no one else nearby who might overhear us.”

I stopped, leaning against a wall instead of risking a step being heard. So, Voltar wasn’t human after all, or at least had somehow augmented his senses. Of course, he should have heard me then and told Dawes, but perhaps he had forgotten about my own enhancement to my hearing?

I wouldn’t clue either of them in if I could. Clearly they were hiding something, and at this point I wanted to find a way out of the darkness I’d found myself in.

“Good, because we need to talk,” Dawes snapped, the tone turned hostile. “What are you doing? Your performance was fine the first week, but it is collapsing already, only held together by practically smothering anyone who knows Voltar in glamour. Poking those people repeatedly seems like the quickest way to strain that till it bursts. And how do you keep on knowing the answers? I know Voltar did not let you inside his head.”

Glamour? Fey craft, designed to dull the senses, which, along with the rest, made for an easy-to-solve set of questions. They had a fey impersonating Voltar for whatever reason which…..my mind thought back to the Voltar from my time with the Black Flame. We’d only crossed paths in person once or twice, but from reports to Versalicci I’d sat in on, easily a hundred accounts of Voltar had crossed my desk.

Dry, with a sharp mind like a knife cutting through any binding put to restrain him. Blunt in his descriptions, eager to explain his methods. True, not very secretive, but perhaps this was just the nature of this case? He had said he wanted to test me, and perhaps that-

I shook my head, trying not to make much noise as I forced those thoughts off my head. Glamour, trying to shroud its own existence from me. So, I’d been right about Voltar being a fey, in a way, at least for some of the time over the past two weeks.

I moved closer, trying to move as quietly as I could. Luckily, their conversation was becoming quite loud.

“Oh, how do I keep on knowing the answers? Simple, I ask him, although about more than just that.”

A hiss of indrawn breath, and Dawes’ sounded angrier than he had at any point in the last two weeks.

“That was for if you found yourself in something you couldn’t solve your way out of without your knowledge, not so you can bother him every hour of the day. And would you please change back?”

“You sure about that?”

“You already said Lord Gregory and Miss Harrow went back to the ballroom,” Dawes snapped. “And I’ve had about all I could stomach of my friend’s voice being used by you.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t get so upset all the time about that,” a smoky voice said. “I prefer my own as well, so I’m happy to use it instead.”

Well, that sounded like my cue. I opened the door, a half-formed sentence spilling out of my mouth as I confirmed my suspicions.

Standing in this room were two people, one of whom was Dr. Dawes, and the other was a fox-woman with fur of red and white with three tails poking out of her back, vulpine face in an easy smile as she turned to look at me. She was wearing a loose robe, which made a physique that should be anatomically impossible more apparent.

It was best to keep those thoughts clinical with how loose that robe was.

“Back so soon, Miss Harrow?” The kitsune asked, a self-satisfied grin on her face while Dawes looked like he might be dying.

I let a second drag out as if shocked into silence.

“I…I knew Voltar was a fey,” I blurted out, at the same time slamming the door behind me. It wouldn’t do for anyone else to overhear this.

“Be quiet,” Dawes snapped at the kitsune with more anger than I’d seen the doctor display yet. “No, Miss Harrow, Voltar is not a kitsune.”

“She should just drop the act,” the Kitsune said with a grin. “I know you heard us, little devilkin, enough of the conversation that your little deception is pointless.. And, as I said before, I am not a fey. Be glad I don't rip your throat out for the insult.”

Dawes glared at the Kitsune, then looked over to me, and I nodded.

“I wanted to see if she noticed,” I said. “I figured she must have based on what she said, but that raises another question entirely.”

“Yes, it does,” he agreed, glaring again at the Kitsune as he moved to the only other door in the room, locking it.

I kept calm. If they wanted me dead for discovering this, now would be the best time. Not while I was asleep in their house or traveling to there where fey magic could lead me to walking into a meat grinder, convinced it was the hatch to the attic. That might be possible. Kitsune specialized in trickery even more than usual fey, given the fey’s tendency towards compulsion, illusion, and other such tricks that wouldn’t be pleasant.

An enclosed room with less space to dodge in, though? A different story.

“Why did you lie about her leaving?” Dawes asked the kitsune, who had settled in one of the chairs. At least, she had appeared to. Who knows where she might actually be inside the room?

“Accusing me of lying Dr. Dawes?” The Kitsune batted her eyelashes, a look of such obvious innocence that it must be fakery on her face. “I will let you know I did no such thing. I told you the two children had gone back to the ballroom, but you never asked if one of them had come back.”

Dawes groaned, moving next to me to lock my door.

“Should I be worried about that?” I asked, inclining my head to the door.

You’ve been tricked and lied to already, and you think that’s worth even asking? The Imp said in my head.

Dawes looked my way, the irritation on his face fading. “No, Ms. Harrow, I just don’t want anyone else bursting in, especially since the person I relied on to help me keep this secret has decided to the Hells with the entire notion.”

“Oh please, Dawes,” the Kitsune drawled as she sprawled across the chair, furry legs hanging over the armrest, which creaked in protest. Lord Montague might be down a functioning piece of furniture soon. “Glamour can only go so far in matters like this, and our little hellspawn here would drag her mind out of a drugged stupor in regards to me eventually. Mind you, given how well she does at other things, maybe you’re right that I could have dragged this out much longer.”

A breath, then a second. It was easier knowing her nature. I’d been frustrated trying to assign a motive, but Fey didn’t think like others, their need for needling an itch to be scratched. Something similar to various other creatures, including the one currently inside my own head.

Not that I was enthusiastic about now having two immortal irritants around me. At least this one wasn’t in my head.

“The ‘Hellkin’ does have a name,” I said with forced pleasantness. “Malvia Harrow, as I’m sure you’ve picked up on by now. I don’t know yours, but maybe you can introduce yourself, and we can address each other properly?”

The Kitsune’s lounging was definitely going to break off an armrest at this rate as she looked up at me with disinterest. “Nah, I don’t think I will. You’re going to die, go back to the Hells, and probably end up with a new name when you become a devil, and I’ll have to remember that one instead. I will probably use it longer than the other one, especially since I have you pegged as a succubus once you get there, which will be a reason to actually spend time around you. You’ll probably be much more bearable as a soul-eating monster.”

“Please be quiet Tagashin,” Dawes said, and the Kitsune’s jaw closed almost mechanically. She glared at her own snout, then fixed her venomous gaze onto Dawes.

So, he had a way of controlling her? It had to have its restrictions, or I doubted any of the last conversations would have happened.

Dawes sighed. “How to begin this? A few months back-”

"My apologies for interrupting,” I said. “But I’m going to assume this is the same Kitsune involved in sleeping with the noble’s latest generation of perverts? Shapeshifting into requested people before sex, things like that? You and Voltar caught her?”

Dawes paused, eyebrow raised. “More than just us. You know the story?”

“Gregory and one of the involved people told me the story. Not about you and Voltar being involved, I assumed that.”

“From there, it’s not that complicated,” Dawes said as Tagashin winked at me. “She’s serving out a sentence for her crimes, assisting us here and wherever else Intelligence thinks her services are useful. For example, pretending to be Voltar when he needs to go undercover for Intelligence or one of our own cases. I’m currently in charge of helping her do that, as well as keeping her safe, which hasn’t been helped by you almost roasting her with diabolism.”

“I’ll admit fault,” I said flatly. “For being angry. For being angry a lot, recently. In my defense, I have been under a lot of stress. I also have been poked and prodded far too much by her, and I’m assuming it’s her, these last few days.”

“Oh, you should never assume,” Tagashin said. “But I’ve barely poked and prodded. There’s so much more I could use from that shallow little swamp you call a life. Teasing you over your inability to have a love life is possibly one of the most merciful things, although maybe that’s just because you wouldn’t feel any guilt over the rest.”

Right. Well, that was going nowhere.

“I hate to suggest it,” I said to Dawes. “But I don’t suppose Intelligence gave you some way to make her less…biting? Outside just making her be quiet.”

“Are you asking him if he can manipulate my mind to his ends?” Tagashin got up, moving to Dawes side and grabbing one of his arms to the doctor’s discomfort. “Because he does, and it’s so disappointing what he chooses to do that doesn’t fit the goals of intelligence.”

“I’d say telling you to stop impersonating my fiancée should fit the goals of intelligence, so you’ll stop spending time trying to seduce me,” Dawes said. “And also not wrecking my home life. And that’s avoiding the number of times you’ve jeopardized your own cover.”

Tagashin yawned as the armrest underneath her finally gave way. She fell a few inches before freezing, held aloft by magic while Lord Montague’s chair continued to utter sounds of protest.

“Like what? I’ve been solving crime, capturing criminals, listening to people whose only qualification is who their parents had sex with whine about their problems before we solve them. And worse, unlike what I was doing before all of this, you won’t even let me sleep with any of them.”

“You took Baron Tarver’s accidental self-poisoning with bad clams and turned it into some cockamamie story about him killing himself with a boomerang,” Dawes said to Tagashin, his voice barely below a yell. “Then you gave me a heart attack when you planted one next to the river to ‘prove’ his cause of death!”

“What did you expect?” Tagashin retorted. “Food poisoning is hardly a case worthy of the great Voltar’s involvement, so I made it more interesting.”

“He didn’t even have a physical wound on his head!” Dawes exclaimed, his war to keep his voice under control a failing one. “I had to go in later and fake one and say the bruising from the wound took a while to surface. It’s a miracle no one questioned it!”

I coughed politely, drawing both of their gazes to me as I grinned sheepishly.

“Pardon me for intruding on what feels like a well-trod argument, but I think maybe Doctor Dawes and I should talk alone?”

Tagashin raised one of her furry eyebrows. “First, you claim the young lord before I ever got a chance to. Now, you wish to claim another of the only men I also interact with. Are you going to make up for stealing them away from me?”

“Honestly?” I said. “I’d be tempted if it wasn’t for your personality being like when the Nover catches on fire.”

For once, the kitsune actually seemed slightly taken aback, and I took advantage of that silence.

“This is part of why I want a private conversation.”

“Yes, I can agree with that. Tagashin, please step out to another room, keep yourself hidden, and don't eavesdrop for a minimum of five minutes.”

Tagashin looked like she was considering biting my face off, but did step out, slamming the door behind her.

“She seems to be more trouble than she’s worth,” I said, sitting down where the kitsune had been, enjoying the feeling of the plush cushions. My splinted leg continued to throb but felt less like I had knives jabbed into it. Between the broken armrest and the stains of blood and Hawkin’s ichor I was adding to it, Tagashin and I had probably ruined some priceless family heirloom.

“I could say that about quite a few people,” Dawes muttered, settling down in another chair with much more care than me.

“That’s unfair,” I said, checking my leg beyond the splint. It had held up surprisingly well so far, but I’d need to look into a more permanent accommodation till I could hasten along the healing. “I’ll take my lumps for being difficult, but when I’m being poked by the fey all the time…well, at least now I have a why. Even more of one if she’s chafing against a leash.”

“I will admit outside me you’re the one dealing with her the most,” Dawes said. “What did you wish to talk about?”

“One question, doctor,” I said, looking Dawes in the eyes. “Where is Voltar?”

The doctor winced, looking to either side as if he could see through the walls for any potential eavesdroppers.

“Handling something I’m not allowed to talk about,” he said. “I’m only broadly aware of what he’s doing, but I do know he should have been back by now.”

“So, not only do we not have the empire’s greatest detective handling this case, but he is, in fact off potentially being caught up in trouble,” I said, grimacing. “That doesn’t sound good. He is aware of…some of this, I assume?”

“He was here at the start,” Dawes told me. “He left shortly before the entire mess at Lady Karsin’s tower. From what I do know, this was rather sudden for everyone involved. He’d returned just a few weeks ago, with the matter seemingly resolved, only to be called back into it.”

“If that doesn’t spell catastrophe brewing,” I muttered. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about him coming in through the front door and hitting me with a chair while I’m trying to make morning tea. You decided not to tell me then?”

Dawes frowned. “To be perfectly honest, we both agreed that kind of trust has-“

“Not been earned yet,” I finished for him. “I can understand that. I’ve not exactly proven the best at keeping control of myself, and add in my past..I get it. I’m not happy, but I get it.”

“I did argue we should try to provide some kind of explanation, but we didn’t have much time to plan,” Dawes said.

“Well, this changes some things,” I said. “I’m less willing to take the lead of someone I know is a kitsune trickster who has been collared instead of a proven and seasoned detective. For a whole variety of reasons. How many of the shots has she been calling?”

“Not many,” Dawes clarified. “Some suggestions, nothing more.”

I drummed my finger on the chair's remaining armrest.

“I’d like the same. Actually, I want it regardless of Voltar being here, but right now, I’d say I need it if I work in these conditions. Some knowledge of where we are going, some right to advise which way to go. No more springing things on me with no forewarning, partially because I assume she gets some enjoyment out of it.”

“It does help keep her from being bored,” Dawes admitted. “I don’t see any reason to say no, although my superiors might say otherwise.”

“Still need to meet with them at some point,” I said. “So much to do, so little time. We’ll need to discuss my ideas, but maybe not today, as there’s still much to try and do before we can finally get some sleep. Anything else while we have a respite?”

“The diabolism,” he stated. “I understand the extreme circumstances, but what happened earlier.”

“Won’t happen again,” I said. “And I mean it because if you want to bind me in blessed silver for the rest of this, do it as long as we get it off if another changer happens along. After? I might be tempted to pour diluted holy water down my throat again.”

Dawes’ eyes widened. “Nothing so drastic should be needed. I think things might work out as long as we try to keep this incident contained around this. Well, like you said, time is short. Let’s go get Tagashin and then go see what the Watch has been up to.”

Tagashin was still waiting in the side room, having apparently settled examining and carving something into the surface of a bureau with her claws.

“Oh, I had a fun thought while you two stuck me outside,” Tagashin said with a grin lacking in any innocence. “Tell me hellkin, what do you think would happen if I assumed your true form and went up to your aunt in front of the manor?”

“She cuts your head off,” I said without hesitation. “Then, after discovering you are not me but instead a kitsune, she keeps on trying to cut you to little pieces. I know what you are because of stories of my great-grandmother carving her way through a tribe of your kind back in her heyday to reclaim a captured prince. And also having some of my relatives with them as well. My aunt would set the empire on fire to claim even a fraction of her past glory.”

Tagashin pouted. “Your aunt sounds like a foul and malicious person.”

“Oh yes,” I agreed. “Hence why I’m ecstatic at the idea of you provoking her.”

Dawes groaned.

“I’ll stop,” I said, while Tagashin made no such promises.

The air shimmered around her, Voltar coming into being with a grin on his face my mind now registered as very far out of character for the great detective. She must be spreading glamour around by the ton to cover for all of this. But the ability to so easily project an illusion of someone else, that raised possibilities.

“Well, apprentice and trusted comrade,” she said in Voltar’s voice. “Back to the ballroom! There’s a mystery afoot!”