by Rachel Green
“I suppose.” Felicia leaned against a tree to rest her leg. “But we know He exists, don’t we? What about our belief?”
“We don’t count.” Gillian dropped from the canopy above. “Nephilim are damned by definition. We’re abominations.”
“Crap! I didn’t know you were up there.” Felicia swallowed a ball of bile that had risen with the vampire’s sudden appearance. “Where were you when we were fighting that thing?” Her relief at Gillian’s arrival came out as anger.
“I came as fast as I could.” Gillian stepped forward and scooped up Felicia in her arms. “We side with the demons. At least they have a pension scheme.”
Jenna laughed and Gillian regarded her, taking in the severed hand.
“This is Jenna.” Felicia half-smiled in relief the fight was over. “Jenna, Gillian.”
Jenna bobbed her head once. “Thanks for the help. He’d have got us if not for the mundanes.”
Gillian nodded. “I was on my way. I saw the fireball.”
“Julie didn’t send you?”
“Nobody ‘sends’ me anywhere. I do as I wish, within the remit of not attracting a mob with flaming torches to the manor.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant.” Felicia smiled. “I just made the assumption because Julie sent Wrack with some little glass spells.”
Gillian frowned. “Fetiches? That’s impossible. She’s a seer, not a mage.”
“There was a book in Harold’s shop she could read. She’s been practicing the spells in it.”
“Still...” Gillian looked doubtful. “It takes a powerful mage to make a fetiche. She should have had to study magic for years before even attempting it.”
Felicia shrugged, the movement making her hiss as pain jolted up her leg. She tried to shift her body to ease the agonizing throb. She could feel the vampire’s muscles as they walked, cold, hard breasts pressing against Felicia’s side. “Perhaps Wrack helped her. Or Harold.”
“Perhaps.” Gillian looked at Felicia’s wound. “Come on. I need to get you back to the house where there’s a bit of light. Are you able to run, Jenna?”
The older werewolf nodded. “I think so. I just need to get a knife on this wound before it heals completely.”
Gillian nodded. “It’s a good job it was cauterized. It would have healed over otherwise.”
Jenna shuddered. “I’m just glad it wasn’t silver.”
“You’ve lost your hand.” Felicia screwed up her face. “How can you be so calm about it?”
“It’ll heal.” Gillian poked a finger into Felicia’s leg hole. “She’s a were. We just have to cut off the burned tissue and re-attach the hand. She’ll be fine. It’s you I’m more worried about.”
“Why?” Felicia examined her leg. “It’s a clean hole. I’m sure it’ll heal soon enough.”
“Not if we don’t get all the burned flesh out.” Gillian picked up Felicia and began to jog, picking up the pace as the manor came into view. “Otherwise it will heal around the tube and leave you permanently crippled.”
“Oh.” Felicia looked up at the vampire. “How will you do that?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Jenna followed the pair to the manor, where Gillian pushed open the door with Felicia’s feet.
Julie was waiting for them in the kitchen. “Oh damn. What’s happened?”
Felicia gave her a lop-sided smile. “We had a quarrel with that seraph again. Thanks for the magic missiles, though, we’d have been dead without them.”
“No problem.” Julie stood, her sightless gaze on the table as Gillian used one hand to sweep away the evening’s debris. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes.” Gillian laid Felicia on the table and directed Jenna to sit on the cupboard by the sink. “Get your imp to fetch the toolbox from the stables.”
Wrack gated away and Gillian turned to Jenna. “Right. You’re the easiest, so you first. Let’s get that hand back on before necrosis sets in.”
Jenna gulped, aware of what was about to happen. “Thanks. It’s a lot easier if someone else does it.” She held up her good hand, where the wrist was covered in scars.
Julie stared at the wound. “What are you going to do?”
Gillian glanced at her. “I’ve got to remove the burned skin from both sides of the wound, and then with any luck, the two pieces should knit back together, thanks to the wonders of dog DNA.”
“Wolf.” Jenna growled.
Gillian smiled thinly. “If it craps on the lawn, it’s a dog. Just thank your gods I’m not going to spay you.”
Wrack appeared with the toolbox. “Do you want a saw?”
Gillian shook her head. “Too messy and too slow. I’ll use a kitchen knife.” Gillian took the largest and tested the blade, sucking the blood from the pad of her thumb. “Sharp as a scream.”
She took Jenna’s severed hand and placed it on the cutting board. Felicia turned green as she brought the knife down over the stump of the wrist, cutting away the burned tissue. The hand began to bleed and Gillian pushed it to one side, indicating with the knife for Jenna to place her stump in the same place.
Jenna hissed at the cut but Gillian pressed the bleeding hand to the fresh wound and held it until it had started to knit.
“Impressive.” Felicia took several deep breaths, glad she hadn’t eaten recently. “Is that how you’ll do mine?”
“Not exactly.” Gillian smiled and pulled an electric drill from the toolbox.
Chapter 25
Felicia dug her fingers into the Formica counter top. The pain was worse than the time she’d pulled a boiling kettle off the counter onto her shoulder. Her arm had been scalded with third degree burns and she hadn't stopped crying for three days.
“Owwwlll!” She was crying now as her blood arced across the kitchen. Her whole leg vibrated as the drill bit into the cauterized tunnel left by the angel’s strike. Although Gillian managed to dodge it, Jenna, trying to assist, took a full spray of it in the face. Now the blood was draining from the other side of the wound like rainfall through a sewer.
She managed to turn her head away before she vomited, a stream of blood and bile adding to the mess already staining the floor. Only Gillian’s grip on her ankle prevented her from pulling her leg away from the rotating bit. The whine dropped an octave as it dug into bone. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying her best not to pass out.
Gillian paused the electric drill for a moment. “Get a bucket, somebody.” She put a hand over the wound, expecting it to slow but instead it just backed up and seeped out at the drill end. “Hurry up.”
Jenna emptied the contents of the washing-up bowl into the sink, heedless of the breaking crockery.
Gillian nodded. “Good. Wash it free of detergent, though.”
Jenna swilled it out and propped it beneath Felicia’s leg. Gillian released her hold, starting the drill again and powering through the wound, heedless of Felicia’s screams.
The process went quickly. More blood had been lost in the pause than in any other part of the operation. Gillian pulled the bit out and propped it over the sink, where the blood dripped over the collection of broken pottery and tea mugs. She wrapped Felicia’s leg in two tea towels that quickly became soaked in blood.
“All done. I’m sorry, but it was the quickest way.”
“I’m going to faint.” Felicia’s face was white in the mirror.
Gillian stroked her brow. “Take some deep breaths. It’ll pass in a minute. The bleeding has stopped already.”
“Why did I have to clean out the bowl?” Jenna asked. “We’re not exactly operating under sterile conditions in this kitchen, are we?”
“No.” Gillian picked up the bowl. A few inches of blood had collected in the bottom, bits of cauterized flesh floating like islands in a sunset. She set a sieve over a glass and poured the blood through it. “I haven’t eaten today.”
She drained the glass in one swallow and burped. “You know–” She winked at Jenna’s horrified fa
ce. “It’s almost possible to get used to the taste of dog.”
“I can’t believe you did that.” Felicia forced down bile. “I mean, I can understand you drinking blood from the neck. It’s intimate, I suppose, giving you a connection with the um...donor, but that–” She indicated the glass in Gillian’s hand. “That was disgusting.”
“Quite tasty, actually.” Gillian smiled and put the glass on the counter top. “I must like you. A little bit, anyway. I’ve never been able to stomach dog before.”
“I’m touched.”
“You must be.” Jenna mimed sticking her fingers down her throat. “She’s a vampire, babe. Her kind and our kind don’t mix.”
“And what of my kind?” Julie turned her blank gaze upon Jenna. “Who should I mix with? Anyone?”
“How should I know?” Jenna shrugged on her jacket. “You should be careful where you place your trust, though. I can tell you that.”
“Trust is overrated.” Jasfoup’s baritone cut through the bickering as he walked through the door. “Hello?” He looked at Jenna. “Who’s this?” He wagged a finger at Gillian. “Don’t tell me. It followed you home and you want to keep it.”
“This is Jenna.” Felicia rubbed the salty traces of tears from her face. “The one who bit me in the first place. She’s being hunted like the rest of us.”
“Speak for yourself.” Jasfoup reached past her for the kettle. “Nobody’s hunting me.”
“Well, bully for you.” Gillian unplugged the electric drill. “There’s nothing like solidarity, is there?”
“It’s not a question of solidarity.” The demon filled the kettle at the sink. “It’s a matter of proprieties. I can’t interfere. A direct conflict between an angel and a demon would precipitate the apocalypse and I, for one, don’t want the paperwork.”
“Aren’t you the lucky one?” Jenna’s voice was barely more than a snarl. “You get to hang around with a bunch of the Changed and have no responsibilities toward them.”
“That’s not strictly true.” Jasfoup plugged the kettle in and clicked his fingers. Devious appeared, raising his eye-ridges at the assembled company. Jasfoup motioned for him to clean up the blood and wash the dishes. “Just because I can’t be directly involved doesn’t mean I don’t help out.” He looked across at Julie. “How are the spells, dear?”
“Good.” Julie smiled. “I was able to combine the charm of permanence with the casting of several spells, as you suggested.”
“Was that what you sent me?” Felicia sat up. “We wouldn’t have survived without them.” Devious cleaned around her with a cloth and jug of soapy water.
“That’s right. Fireball, cold and darkling. I want to ask about their effects, though. See if I can refine them.”
“How did you make those?” Gillian turned to her. “I thought it took decades for a mage to master fetiches, yet you managed it in a matter of hours. Felicia told me you only got the book yesterday.”
“That’s right.” Julie shrugged. “I must have a natural aptitude.”
“Not just aptitude.” Harold entered the kitchen from the hall. “It would normally take weeks just to gather the energy needed to make one of those. You made three in the space of an hour. I don’t know how. I’ve never been able to.”
Felicia moved her leg and winced. “Is it something to do with the dead?”
“Ooh!” Harold looked at Julie. “It is, isn’t it? I never thought of that.”
Julie shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is it felt as easy as putting plastic bricks together.”
“Easy?” Jasfoup barked a laugh. “The greatest mages in all of history didn’t think it was easy. It would have taken Merlin himself a full week to store up the energy for just one of those little bullets.”
“I just reach into the other land and pull the energy out. It didn’t feel difficult.”
“What other land?” Harold frowned. “This is the first you’ve mentioned of another land.”
“I don’t know.” Julie closed her eyes. “I have nothing with which to describe it. It’s all muted, like putting your hand over a speaker. There’s a constant vibration but it all feels far away. You must know where I’m talking about.”
Jasfoup shook his head, clearly forgetting she couldn’t see the gesture. “I don’t think so. Was there a hubbub of voices and loads of people walking around naked?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Means nothing to me.” The demon began to make a pot of tea. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it isn’t a land of the dead, mind.”
Harold fetched fresh cups from the cupboard. “I thought you knew all the planes bisecting this one?”
“I do.” Jasfoup poured water into the teapot. “I just provided a generic description. There are dozens and they all look very similar. I don’t know which one she’s feeding from.”
“Feeding?” Julie frowned. “That’s an odd term.”
“Is it?” Jasfoup sat in front of her and took her hand. “Gillian feeds on blood to fuel her vampirism. Felicia and her friend feed on meat to fuel their shape-shifting and you feed on souls to fuel your magic.”
Harold moistened his lips. “What do I feed on?”
“Chocolate rice.” Gillian smacked him on the arm. “They’re all over the bed.”
“You’re special, Harold.” Jasfoup added milk to the cups and began pouring tea. “It works differently for you.”
“That’s horrible.” Julie shuddered. “Am I really eating the dead?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Jasfoup passed a cup to Harold. “It doesn’t make you a bad person, though. You’ve got a link with that realm for a reason. This is probably it.”
“But which of the clans is she?” Jenna moved around the table. “She’s a seer, but a magician as well. She eats souls like a demon but not blood like a vampire.”
“A new clan?” Harold raised an eyebrow. “A hybrid?”
“One of the lost clans Taliel was talking about?” Felicia stood, wincing as she put weight onto her injured leg. “That would explain why an angel wants to kill her.”
“No.” Jasfoup added sugar to his tea. “The lost tribe were giants. They all perished in the Flood.”
Harold took the sugar. “Whatever she is, she’s special. We need to protect her until we find out what’s going on.”
“Agreed.” Felicia gave Julie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Quite apart from her being my sister, I want someone who can make these fetiches on our side.”
“Thank you. I’m glad someone values my contribution.”
“We all do.” Harold sipped his tea and reached for the sugar bowl again. “I don’t suppose you could enchant my sword against angels, could you? They seem awfully tough to go up against.”
“I’ll try. I haven’t found anything about enchantments yet.”
“Just what is this book?” Jenna studied the blind woman. “Every spell you ever needed? Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that it turns up just as we need it?”
Gillian gave a snap of laughter. “Who’s this ‘we’? I don’t remember inviting you to join us, dog-face.”
“Listen, leech. We’re all in this together. It’s not just wolves he’s after. He wants you suckers as well.”
“He does, actually.” Felicia nodded. “He came into the gallery before all this happened and pretended to buy your paintings. I think he was really just looking for a way of finding you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I forgot.” Felicia shrugged. “Sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind. It wasn’t until yesterday Harold told me that you were Gillian du Point. I didn’t know before.”
“Would it have hurt you to mention it? Just because you’re a werewolf, it doesn’t mean that you have to have the attention span of a puppy.”
“I resent that. I’ve had a lot more to deal with than–”
“Enough!” Jasfoup’s retort cut through the rising hubbub. “The dog is right. We’re all in this toge
ther. One for all and all that guff. Now. Who wants a nice cup of tea?”
“Me, please.” Harold passed his already empty cup. “I’ll sit over here, though. There seems to be a large amount of blood on that table. Whose is that?”
“Mine?” Felicia lifted her leg.
“How is it?” Gillian looked over her shoulder. “It should be healing by now.”
“It is.” Felicia pressed at the two discs of fresh skin where the holes were. “It’s still tender, mind.”
“Good.” Gillian signaled Wrack to put the toolbox away. “Be more careful in future. The next dart of celestial fire might drill through somewhere more vital.” She looked at Felicia’s crotch, which made her cheeks burn.
“Who’s hungry?” Jasfoup opened a cupboard and pulled out a stack of take-away menus.
Gillian shook her head. “Not I, though I’ll take the dogs out for a tramp in the woods if you like.”
“I’d rather have a sheep again.” Felicia grinned.
“None of you are going anywhere.” Harold grabbed the menus and spread them out on the table. “Not with an angel on the loose.”
“He won’t be back tonight, Harold.” Jasfoup picked up the Italian. “He’s had one go today. He probably needs a bit of a kip now.”
Harold shook his head. “That’s what they always say in horror movies. ‘I bet the mad chainsaw-wielding serial killer has gone home for his dinner now. The zombies won’t attack just before dawn. The vampires were scared away by the garlic.’”
The demon sat at the table. “I like a good comedy.”
“Look.” Gillian leaned forward, her weight on her hands. “There are three of us hunting. Let me take an imp, then if we get into trouble, we can send him back for reinforcements.”
“That sounds reasonable.” Jasfoup looked at Harold. “Let them take John. He’s brilliant at running away.”
“All right.” Harold held his hands up in defeat. “I’m staying here, though. I want a curry.”