Seanan McGuire - An Artificial Night

“Yeah. Remind me to kill you later.”

“Of course,” he said, and cracked a smile. “Excuse me a moment, will you?”

“Sure.” I leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the pain in my knee and the glare I was getting from Raj’s father.

Tybalt moved toward Raj and Julie like a shark moving through the water. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Julie. We were friends for a long time, before an assassin’s misfired bullet killed her boyfriend and made her swear to take revenge on me for putting him in the line of fire. I don’t like to see her hurt. Still, I didn’t look away as he reached down and grabbed her by both wrists, yanking her off the ground. Julie kicked and screamed as he lifted, but didn’t manage to break free. Raj hunched down and snarled, but didn’t try to interfere. Smart kid.

“We don’t attack our guests,” Tybalt said calmly, holding Julie at arm’s length and giving her a brisk shake. She snapped at him, nearly sinking her teeth into his arm.

Bad idea. Tybalt shook her again, harder this time, and roared. The cats in the alley started to yowl, and the human-form Cait Sidhe joined in, blending their voices with his. I glanced back at Raj’s father. He was yowling with the rest. Some things run in the family.

Cait Sidhe are pretty. They’re slim and delicate and feline, and sometimes we forget that when we’re hold a tabby, we’re also holding a lion. Every Court of Cats is a jungle made of concrete and steel, and in his own Court, at least for now, Tybalt was the undisputed King. Julie knew the rules. She had to know how much trouble she was in. She still kept fighting, trying to kick him as he shook her. I guess she was trying to be gloriously defeated.

Julie never was that bright.

She snapped at him again, this time sinking her teeth into his wrist. That was the last straw. Tybalt’s patience visibly dissolved as he snarled and slammed her against the wall. She shrieked at him, and he slammed his foot into her stomach. I winced. The Cait Sidhe aren’t particularly fast healers. Their succession fights have been known to turn deadly. And people wonder why Tybalt makes me nervous.

Julie snarled again, but her rage was gone, replaced by resignation; she was just fighting back for show. Tybalt let go of her wrists and wrapped his left hand around her throat, claws barely breaking the surface of her skin.

“Are we done?” he asked, almost gently.

She snapped at the air, hissing, and he slammed her head against the wall with an audible crack. She whimpered, eyes going glassy.

“ Now are we done?” The gentleness was gone, replaced by anger.

“Yes,” she whispered, licking her lips.

“You attacked my guest.”

“I did.” A trickle of blood was running from the corner of her mouth, and from the way she hit the wall, she’d be lucky if she didn’t have a concussion. Tybalt can play a little rough.

“She was here at my invitation and under the protection of your Prince.”

“She killed Ross!” Julie coughed, eyes blazing. “She needs to die.”

“Maybe,” said Tybalt. “This argument is old, and I’m tired of it. Trevor? Gabriel?” A pair of battered tom-cats leaped down from the wall, becoming human as they landed. They were massive, like linebackers with pointed ears and fangs; next to them, Tybalt looked almost small. “Our Juliet is tired. Take her to her lair and keep her there.”

“Yes, my liege,” rumbled Gabriel. He reached down and wrapped one hand around Julie’s upper arm. She hissed weakly. It must be nice to be seven feet tall and made of solid muscle, because he didn’t bother to hit her; he just hauled her to her feet, keeping his fingers in a vise-grip around her arm. She hung there like a rag doll. “Come on, Julie.”

Damn it. She isn’t a friend these days, but she used to be. Ignoring the pain in my knee, I straightened. “Tybalt?”

“Yes?” He turned toward me, distractedly licking a smear of blood away from the corner of his mouth. I was pretty sure it wasn’t his.

“Don’t hurt her.”

He blinked, staring at me. I’d managed to break his composure twice in one night; that might be a new record. “But she attacked you.”

“I noticed.” I rubbed my blood-sticky throat with one hand, wincing. “Just please, for me? Don’t hurt her.”

“The discipline of my subjects is my business.” There was a note of warning in his tone.

“I know. I don’t get to dictate. That’s why I’m asking.”

Raj picked himself up and moved to stand next to me, saying, “Uncle?”

“Yes, Raj?” Tybalt looked at him and smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“Toby came in and got us,” he said, shivering. There was a scrape down the left side of his face, and blood was matted in his hair.

“I know. I asked her if she would.”

“But she did.” He looked from me to Tybalt, and said in a rush, “Please don’t hurt Julie? Toby doesn’t want you to, and I trust her.”

“I … see.” Tybalt looked at me, expression amused. “Are we inspiring mutiny already?”

“Not on purpose,” I said.

He studied me for a moment longer, and then said, “Trevor, Gabriel? Keep Juliet from hurting herself further. Bring her water to clean with.” He smiled faintly. “Far be it from me to challenge both my Prince and my … champion.”

The brute squad nodded in unison and carried her into the shadows, vanishing. There’s another Court of Cats, one that exists entirely on the other side of that movable darkness. I’ve never seen it. I don’t think anyone who’s not Cait Sidhe ever has.

Raj gave me an anxious look, fighting to keep his balance. His pupils had thinned to hairline slits, almost invisible against his irises. “Are you hurt?”

“Not as badly as you are,” I said, frowning.

“It’s nothing,” he said, waving a hand. And then he fell. Even the resiliency of youth will only go so far. His father was there to catch him before he hit the ground.

“Is he—” I began.

“He’ll be fine. He’s simply tired,” the man said. “My liege?”

“Yes, Samson, take your son and go.” Tybalt shook his head, adding, “Toby and I will settle our affairs.”

The other parents looked up, their returned charges cradled in their arms as they turned their attention on me. I shivered, trying to hide it. The Court of Cats isn’t the most comfortable place to be, even when I’m my normal self. As a wounded child, it was downright scary.

“You may all go,” Tybalt said, raising his voice to be heard. “Court is dismissed.”

The shadows around us spread wide, and the Cait Sidhe moved through them, vanishing. We were alone in an instant, save for a few bedraggled tabbies who hadn’t relinquished their places on the walls. Tybalt looked up, growling a single low note, and they leaped down, racing out of sight.

Tybalt sat down on the edge of an empty milk crate when the last of them was gone, then slumped over with his elbows resting on his knees. He looked at me for a long moment, and I realized with a jolt that he looked genuinely unhappy. Softly, he said, “You brought them home.”

“I promised I’d try.”

“That’s all it’s ever taken with you, isn’t it?” He laughed, almost bitterly. “Changelings aren’t supposed to have honor, you know. Didn’t your mother teach you anything?”

“Apparently not,” I said, as cheerfully as I could. “A lot of people seem to be pretty annoyed with her about that. Or maybe they’re just annoyed with her in general. It’s getting to where it’s sort of hard to tell.”

“Toby …”

“Sorry, Tybalt. It’s just been a really long day.” I sighed, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “And it’s not over yet, which isn’t making me particularly happy.”