‘Corbin took the reins for you?’
‘When he needed to.’
‘But you’re together now. I mean, you’ve pulled yourself together?’
‘I still have my moments.’
‘Like with me.’
He smiled. ‘Darling, you’d push a pacifist to the limits.’
She smiled back. But she stared into his eyes, eyes that didn’t flinch. ‘Have I met him?’
He frowned. ‘Who?’
She eased herself up slightly, rested her head on her palm. ‘Your son.’
He glanced back at the ceiling. ‘You could say that.’ He looked back at her. ‘You could say he’s the one who brought us together.’
She knew she was gawping, but she could do nothing about it as only two possibilities came to mind. And there was only one who resembled Jask. ‘Rone? Rone’s your son?’
‘Not that I have any right to call him such.’
‘From what you’ve told me, something tells me he begs to differ. Jask,’ she said, gently catching the side of his face to force him to look at her. ‘If you need me somehow, and he’s helped you get me, then he’s been a part of far more than us meeting. This could be the breakthrough you both need. You need to tell him he’s done good, Jask. You need to tell your son you’re proud.’
And he could. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted to. And to make that happen, she needed to prove she could do whatever he wanted her to. More than that, she wanted to help him.
‘Tell me what you want me to do, Jask,’ she said. ‘Trust me enough to tell me.’
He averted his gaze for a few moments. Eventually he eased onto his stomach, looked into her eyes again. ‘You know how the lunar cycles work, right? Every two to three years there’s a thirteenth moon – a second full moon to appear in a single solar calendar month. Some call it a blue moon.’
Sophia nodded. She understood as much about lycan lore as anyone else. Though she wished she’d taken the time to learn more.
‘A thirteenth moon appears seven times in total in the Metonic cycle of nineteen years,’ he added. ‘That seventh thirteenth moon is make or break for lycans, our allergy to that moon particularly potent. We have to alter the ingredients we take, let alone the dosage. One of the herbs we take is aconite. We manage to grow it back at the compound under special conditions. It’s the base herb to all our concoctions. Not only does it contribute to suppressing the morphing, but it works like an anaesthetic – effective in paralysing the nerves to the sensation of pain, touch and temperature, acting on the circulation, respiration and nervous systems. The only problem is, if it’s not processed properly, it’s fatal. It needs to be steamed with a very specific dose of ginger first. A very distinct type of ginger – turmeric.’
‘But?’
‘We had someone in our pack – Nero. He’s always morphed before everyone else. We gave him a dosage that should have worked.’
‘Should have?’
‘Not only was the morphing barely suppressed, but he died in agony shortly after. Such an event is rare, but it’s always a risk when the concoction changes. We now know we need a stronger dose of aconite, but with more aconite, we need more turmeric. We have enough of the former. The problem is, we don’t have anywhere near enough turmeric that their calculations showed we need.’
‘How do I come into this?’
‘Next to us, the next best source for herbs and spices is the witches. Your kind. I’ve traced a source down where there could be enough turmeric for our needs. But, as you know, liaising with anyone in the exchange of herbs and spices is prohibited – so the authorities can manage the witches and make sure they don’t become too powerful. Just as they stopped importing particular herbs and spices into Blackthorn and Lowtown decades ago, knowing our supplies would run out one day.’
‘And they have the meds on standby. Meds you’d have no option but to take.’
‘Exactly.’
‘You want me to go and get it.’ She frowned. ‘That’s what all this was about? But why don’t you go in and take what you need? You could take down witches any day.’
‘Why do you think? Charge in there and we’re not only going to have some very angry witches baying for us, we would have broken one of the regulations. If word leaks out, the Lycan Control Unit will work out we don’t have what we need. They’ll close the compound down and they’ll incarcerate us.’
‘Which is why you want me to go in instead.’
‘A serryn is top of the witch chain. You can walk in there and ask for whatever you want from them, and they have to give it to you without question.’
‘But I could also expose what you’re doing. I could get away and send the authorities after you.’ Now it all made sense – not least why her impulsivity, her recklessness had caused him so much frustration. ‘That’s why you needed me on side. This is what this has been about – you needed my co-operation for it to work.’
‘I either get my hands on that turmeric or my pack turns in less than a week – and if that happens, one way or another, they’re not going to make it. Those that do, those strong enough to survive the morphing, will be too many for me to safely contain. And if they get out of here, they’ll be shot at the hands of the TSCD. The only alternative is the meds – and I trust the Global Council even less than I trust the TSCD. One ingredient, Phia, stands between my pack’s downfall or its survival.’
And the survival of countless others. She’d never seen a lycan morphed, but she knew what had happened to Arana Malloy in explicit detail – their thought processes and their conscience suppressed by their baser urges.
She’d seen just a glimmer of the potential of it in Jask back on the estate, and he hadn’t even been morphed.
Tens of them let loose on the streets of Blackthorn, free to roam across the border into Lowtown, didn’t bear thinking about.
And what would happen to Jask as a result didn’t bear thinking about either.
‘I can do this, Jask.’
She would do it.
‘But I have to send you in there alone or they’ll suspect. You need to walk in there like you own the place, like you’ve been a serryn for years. You don’t answer their questions, nothing.’
‘You want me to go in there arrogant, stroppy, defiant, confrontational and unrelenting?’ She smirked, despite her nerves. ‘I think I have this covered.’
‘It’s not that simple. Sending you in there brings with it another risk. Rone let it slip that we were looking for turmeric. Word could already be out. If you don’t play it right, they could know you’re involved with us. Worse, the witch you need to go to meet is called Tamara – she’s rumoured to be linked with Kane Malloy. She could expose you, Phia. Not only will Caleb know there’s a serryn in Blackthorn, but so too could Kane. And if he works out you’re involved with the pack, this could lead to vampire retaliation against us.’
She raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘No wonder you needed me tamed.’
‘I’m letting you know what this involves.’
She frowned. ‘You don’t believe I can do this, do you?’
‘I’m saying if this goes wrong, it’s all over for my pack.’ He hesitated for a moment before gently cupping her face. ‘It could be all over for you. And I don’t want to face either.’
Her heart soared. ‘It isn’t going to go wrong. I can do this. I swear. You said you trusted me; now’s your chance to prove it. Just give me your word that once I bring back what you need, you’ll help me get my sisters.’
After studying her gaze for a moment longer, he nodded. ‘I give you my word.’
‘Then it’s a deal,’ she said. ‘So what are we waiting for?’
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it,’ Jask said, as they both looked from the shadows of the alley across at the shop. ‘She lives beneath it. The steps are down the side.’
Sophia nodded. As she moved to step forward, Jask grabbed her arm.
> ‘I’ll be here waiting,’ he said.
She held his gaze for a moment. ‘I’ll do this.’
‘I know.’
It was all she needed to hear.
Sophia crossed the road and headed down the alley that ran alongside the shop. She descended the narrow stone steps, her hand clutching the wet handrail to prevent herself slipping on the smoothness of the worn stone.
The windowless door was nestled in the tiny recess at the bottom.
She straightened her shoulders, steadied her breathing and knocked.
Tamara, if she was in, took her time. Long enough for Sophia to lift her clenched hand ready to knock again, until she heard the sliding of bolts on the other side.
The door opened only a fraction before a woman, maybe in her late thirties, opened the door. She frowned, then her eyes widened. She opened the door fully, revealing the line of salt that marked the inside of the door.
‘Tamara, right?’ Sophia said.
Tamara stood there in her oversized sweater and jeans, her sharp, kohled blue eyes raking Sophia from head to foot.
‘Are you alone?’ Sophia asked.
Tamara nodded. ‘Are you what my spidey-sense is telling me you are?’
Sophia folded her arms and cocked her hip to the side. ‘Do I have to invite myself in?’
Tamara stepped back, clearing the doorway. ‘It’s not every day a serryn turns up on your doorstep.’
‘Then I guess you can put this down as one of your lucky ones,’ Sophia remarked, stepping inside.
A door lay ajar at the end of the short hallway, the flickering flame light beyond the only source of light.
‘Sacrificing late into the night, huh?’ Sophia asked.
Tamara almost smiled, albeit still warily. ‘Go on through.’
The heavy curtains were drawn over the small windows, the fire kicking off heat from inside the log burner directly ahead, the flames reflecting on the stone grate and surround.
Tamara indicated towards the left of the small double sofas that sat either side of it.
Sophia sank into the middle one whilst the witch took the one opposite.
Now, in the glow, she could see the true brightness of Tamara’s eyes, sharp against her dark hair. She could also detect the telltale signs of her age by the crow’s feet and faint lines around her mouth.
Tamara stood up again almost immediately. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Sure,’ Sophia said, by instinct. ‘No, actually…’ She needed to keep a clear mind. She needed more than anything not to let Jask down. Not to let herself down. ‘I’m fine. Thanks.’
‘I’m hoping you don’t mind if I get myself one.’
‘Feel free.’
Tamara returned only moments later, resuming her seat and taking a sip from her cut-glass tumbler, her eyes unflinching from Sophia.
Aside from her sister, it was the first time she’d looked into the eyes of a witch – or interpreter as was the politically correct term. Her stomach clenched under the intensity, as if Tamara could read her very thoughts.
Something on the fire cracked and Sophia flinched.
Tamara frowned, only momentarily, but enough for Sophia to know she needed to get a grip. The witch was waiting for her to take the lead. Expecting her to take the lead.
‘I need some turmeric,’ she said, getting to the point.
Tamara raised her eyebrows just a fraction. ‘Turmeric?’
‘Word has it that you have a source.’
Her eyes flashed with concern. ‘Word from where?’
‘Nowhere for you to worry about. So is it true?’
‘You must know how rare turmeric is. Blackthorn isn’t exactly the best environment to be growing it – in terms of temperature that is.’
‘I know you don’t just grow things yourself, Tamara. I know you have links. And one of those links told me you have a supply here.’
‘How much are you needing exactly?’
‘I’ll take whatever you’ve got.’
‘What do you want it for?’
‘That’s not of your concern.’
‘Oh, on the contrary – it’s very much of my concern.’
Sophia’s stomach flipped. There shouldn’t have been any question at all, let alone any confrontation.
‘You must know the exchange, sale or giving of any plant, herb or spice in Blackthorn and Lowtown is strictly prohibited,’ Tamara added.
Already it was going wrong. She needed to pull back control. She needed to take charge – but smartly, calmly. She needed to keep Jask at the forefront of her mind. She needed to remember how he had handled Travis. She had to keep her eye on the ball. ‘Who’s going to know?’
‘My business is all I have,’ Tamara declared. ‘It’s my lifeline. I lose it, and I may as well become a feeder in this district.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘You can guarantee that, can you? Serryn you may be, but this is a whole other world now. You ladies can’t go around lording it like you used to. None of us can.’
‘I beg to differ. I’m here to collect and I’m assured you’re the witch to collect from. And I’m guessing my blood will be as useful to you as your turmeric will be to me.’
Tamara took a sip of her drink, her gaze unflinching on Sophia’s.
There was a time when such reticence amidst her own desperation would have pressed every impatient button and made her explode.
But not this time. She wouldn’t let it overrule this time – not with so much at stake for Jask if she lost. Because this had become as much about Jask’s plight as seeing things through for her sisters.
He’d trusted her. He’d trusted her to save his pack – a trust that came hard to him. She wouldn’t let him down.
‘Very useful for lining bullets,’ Sophia added. ‘Very effective protection.’
‘Turmeric is rarely on anyone’s list. It’s very specific.’ Suspicion glinted in the witch’s eyes. ‘What did you say your name was?’
Sophia crossed her legs, stretched her arms across the back of the low sofa. She glanced into the flames. ‘You’re an associate of Kane Malloy from what I hear.’ She looked back at her. ‘Do you really expect me to disclose who I am to you?’
Tamara’s eyes narrowed. ‘You have been asking around.’
‘Is he why you’re asking so many questions? Are you planning to disclose there’s a serryn loose in Blackthorn?’
‘My loyalty to Kane has no bearing on my loyalty to my own.’
‘And I am one of your own. So how about you try remembering that before I start getting upset?’
Her eyes flared. ‘Like I said, it’s not how it used to be anymore. Questions get asked now. I’m monitored all the time because of the nature of my shop.’
‘But you do have a secret stash somewhere. Something that doesn’t get monitored.’
‘How do I know I can trust you?’
‘You don’t. But you can. And I will make it worth your while.’
Tamara took a steadier sip on her drink this time. And a second. She gazed into the flames for a few moments.
Finally, to Sophia’s relief, she stood. She indicated towards the door in the alcove to the left of the log burner.
Sophia followed her out into the flagstoned hallway, down a narrow flight of stairs immediately to the left. Stairs that were treacherous in their steepness, proven by Tamara clutching onto the roped handrail as she descended them with caution. Reaching the bottom, she opened another door and switched on the light.
Sophia stopped herself from entering, her doubts about the witch’s intentions creeping into her mind. But although a witch, Tamara was still just a human physically. And Sophia hadn’t forgotten how to handle herself. Tamara may have had the advantage in height and weight, but so had many others Sophia had taken down.
Besides, she knew her hesitation would only raise questions in the witch’s mind – could have her having second thoughts about issuing her with the turmer
ic, if that’s what she actually intended at all. Instead she’d remain on her guard, reminding herself of that as she glanced once more up over her shoulder before following Tamara inside.
As they passed through a cold, dark chamber and another door, Sophia expected to find a cavern at the end of it. Instead they entered a clinical whitewashed room. Herbs, plants and unidentifiable specimens were contained in row upon row of jars, vials and boxes that aligned the ceiling-high shelves. Various apparatus including measuring jugs, scales, test tubes and conical flasks adorned the white worktops that were fitted to the periphery of the room, all of it spotless under the powerful lights that shone down from the ceiling.
Indeed, the last thing she’d expected to find was a full-blown laboratory but that, in essence, was exactly what it was.
Not that she could show Tamara she was surprised. Tamara, who was now on her hands and knees at one of the under-worktop cupboards, emptying its contents.
At first Sophia assumed she was just looking for the turmeric supply. Then she realised what the witch was actually doing was clearing the cupboard out. A few minutes later, there was a clunk.
‘I’m assuming you’re not claustrophobic?’ Tamara asked without even glancing over her shoulder as she crawled inside.
As it so happened, small spaces were another of Sophia’s pet hates – probably a part of a drowning-evoked claustrophobia – and part of the reason she had recoiled in such horror that Jask had the casketing procedures he did.
Nonetheless, Sophia stepped up to the cupboard and eased down onto her haunches to peer into the entrance Tamara had created. A door had been opened, obviously on some kind of concealed latch system. The tunnel ahead was less than a foot long. Another glow, this one amber, emanated from beyond.
Getting onto her hands and knees, she crawled through behind her.
This time she did enter a cavern – a cold but dry cavern, the recesses stacked with more jars, vials and boxes and sacks upon sacks of leaves and herbs.
Blood Torn (Blackthorn Book 3) Page 39