Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2)

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Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2) Page 8

by Helen Harper


  “Dude, whatever you need. WhatEVER.” He paused. “Hold on, you don’t need me to fight, do you?”

  I laughed shakily. “No, I wouldn’t make you do that. I just need a bit of…advice, that’s all.”

  “Mack Attack, advice I can do. You should come to London, tell Lord Shifty the truth and then everything’ll work itself out. The human thing isn’t an issue anymore because you’re not freaking human! In fact - ”

  I interrupted him. “It’s not about that, Alex, it’s something else.” Before he could continue to regale me with grandiose plans for how I could risk the lives of the entire Cornish pack by exposing myself, I quickly filled him in with the details of Mrs Alcoon – how she had initially seemed slightly clairvoyant and the nameless suspicions I’d had about her that had since been confirmed, up till I found her in her weird semi-permanent stasis. I even included that she knew what I really was although I left out the part about my newly discovered fire power, because it didn’t seem entirely relevant and I wasn’t too sure that I wanted anyone else to know what I was suddenly now capable of just yet.

  Alex was quiet for a few moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was solemn. “Describe the object to me again.”

  “It was small, about two inches long and shape of a sphere. And made out of iron so it couldn’t have been anything to do with anyone from Faery. And I held it for a good few moments before it started to chill and freeze and then…”

  “Mackenzie, you need to get out of there.”

  I was momentarily befuddled. “Uh, what?”

  “Get out. Now. Lock the door behind you and leave. And don’t go back.”

  “I’m not leaving. She helped me out when no-one else would. So she’s meddled in a bit of bad magic and then messed up. That doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try and get her out of it.” I paused. “Is this because she knows what I am now? That I’m…not human? Is she contacting someone like Iabartu?”

  “No.”

  “So what the fuck is it, Alex? Tell me! I just need to know what to do. Alex, you know what this is, don’t you?”

  This had to be connected in some way to the fact that she’d discovered my true nature, despite what Alex said to the contrary. Either her knowing what I was had put her in danger or she’d put herself into danger by trying to tell someone else.

  “She didn’t do it to herself, Mack, that would be impossible. Your Mrs Alcoon is in enforced inhibitory gnosis. You can’t achieve that state on your own – someone has to put you in it. Someone from the Ministry has done this.”

  “The Ministry? You mean the mages? You mean, you?”

  “No, not me. Well, yes me. My group, at least. That’s what we do when there’s report of trouble.”

  I had a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Trouble?”

  “When someone reports that there is some bad magic around, the Ministry steps in to put a stop to it. The object you’ve described is a moot – it nullifies any magic user in the vicinity who might be a threat until a representative can arrive and deal with it.”

  “I have a horrible feeling that dealing with it means acting first and asking questions later.”

  “That is often the case, yes. Mack Attack, if whoever arrives to sort out your little old lady shows up and finds you there, you’ll be taken into custody. They’ll try to find out who you are. Which will take them all of two minutes given how hard the Lord Alpha has been trying to find you. If this happened hours ago then even with you in the wilds of Scotland, they’ll be there soon. Leave.”

  “But she’s not a threat, Alex. She’s barely got any power.”

  “She worked out what you are, didn’t she?”

  “Only because…” my voice trailed off as the dawning realisation hit me.

  Maggie. Maggie had called in the threat. And it wasn’t Mrs Alcoon who was being targeted, it was me. It should be me in that strange trance-like state, not her. Yet again I’d fucked up and yet again I was dragging others down with me.

  “They’ll hurt her.” It was a statement this time, not a question.

  “Mack, they’ll just do what needs to be done. You have to realise how dangerous rogue mages can be. There’s a reason the Ministry exists.”

  Out-fucking-standing. First I was labeled a rogue shifter and now I was apparently being advertised as a rogue mage too. I wondered if Maggie fully realised just what she’d done. That stupid woman. My blood was already boiling when I heard the snap of the telephone’s outer plastic casing cracking under the weight of the pressure of my grip. I took a deep breath. Time to stay calm, Mack, I told myself.

  Alex must have sensed my seething emotions from across the line. “I’m sorry, Mack.”

  “Alex, I’ve come to you for help. To help her. There must be something.”

  “She’s beyond help now, Mack. The only people who can remove the spell are from the Ministry’s Council. You need to get out of there before they decide that you’re mixed up in this somehow too.”

  But I was already mixed up in it. In fact, I was IT. I exploded at him, instead. “For fuck’s sake, Alex! She’s just a harmless old lady!”

  “Who you yourself admitted to having serious suspicions about! There’s no other way. You have to see how dangerous this is.”

  “She’s not dangerous. And I like her.” I was aware how stupid that sounded, and how true it was. I was going to have to do something.

  Alex, for his part, was silent.

  I took in a deep breath. “I have to go, Alex.”

  “Wait, Mack, you can’t do anything stupid.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I understand that my friend has been put into this trance by some fucking jumped up mage. Because she’s dangerous. Except I know that she’s no danger to anyone. And I also know that the Ministry is going to hurt her to find out just what kind of threat she actually is. Which will also probably reveal in the meantime what I am too. What stupid thing would I do?”

  “You can’t save her. You’re strong, Mack Attack, and god alone knows what powers all that Draco Wyr blood has, but you can’t fight the Ministry. It’s too dangerous, and not just for you. And they’ll focus on the threat of her, anyway, not some harmless employee she happened to have.”

  Except this harmless employee was the reason she was in this state in the first place. “I completely understand, Alex. “ My voice was distant and I started to hung up.

  “Mack!” His voice burst through the phone. It was too late though – I slammed it down on the counter and moved to Plan B.

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as I put the phone down, I took a deep shaky breath. Things were most definitely not particularly hunky dory in the land of Mackenzie Smith. My mind raced, considering the options. There was absolutely no way that I was going to leave Mrs Alcoon to be dealt with by the Ministry – and hurt, or worse, in the process. I briefly wondered if I could get hold of Maggie and convince her to call off the dogs. After all, I could leave right now if I so chose. It was Mrs Alcoon – June, her friend – who was going to end up getting hurt. I quickly discarded that idea, however. Maggie must have known what implications calling the Ministry in the first place would have, which meant that she put the threat that I posed higher than the relative safety of her friend. Besides, I figured, with a quick glance down at my fingers, Maggie clearly had some power at her disposal that I would probably be wise to stay away from.

  What I had to do was to get Mrs Alcoon somewhere safe, somewhere no mage hell bent on terrorising and torturing a harmless old lady could get to her. That meant that pretty much anywhere in the UK was out. From what I little I knew from my time with the Pack, the tentacles of the Ministry of Mages were far reaching. Let’s face it, I’d seen the evidence of their locator spells in action myself. They’d find her wherever I put her.

  So I’d have to look further afield. Going abroad might be a possibility, but it was an international organisation. I doubted there were many places in the world I co
uld take a prone body to where they wouldn’t be able to reach us. I didn’t have to stay on this plane, however. I thought of the demesnes that I’d visited when I’d been tracking Iabartu. Somewhere like that would work perfectly. I just had to work out how to get there.

  I scooted quickly round to take another quick peek at Mrs Alcoon. Unsurprisingly she hadn’t moved so much as a muscle. Fuck it. I closed my eyes briefly, then spoke.

  “Solus?”

  The empty shop echoed silence back at me.

  I tried again. “Solus? If you want to know what I really am and you’re listening right now, then I’ll tell you. Just do me one small favour first.”

  I knew it was madness getting a Fae to do me a favour. I’d end up owing him my first twelve children or something equally stupid. I couldn’t see that I had any other choice though. I just had to hope that, wherever he was, he could hear me calling his name.

  “Sol..”

  The air crackled and he appeared in front of me. Disturbingly, he was wearing some kind of diaphanous white shirt and ridiculously tight leather trousers, although I still felt a wave of relief that he’d elected to appear in the first place. “Well, well, well. I didn’t think that the big and tough Mackenzie Smith would ever be calling little old me. Have you finally realised that you can’t escape me and that it’s better to just give in?” He grinned with the leer of a predator. “You could have chosen your moment better, I must admit. I was somewhat….tied up.”

  I didn’t want to imagine what the truth behind that statement actually was. I could feel a hot white band of heat squeeze my heart, but did my best to ignore it and instead looked at him with a far steadier gaze than my inner churning emotions should have allowed. “You want to know what I am? “

  Solus took a step towards me. “Oh, there are so many things that I want, my little prickly ginger one.” He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from my cheek. I had to fight not to flinch.

  “Well, then,” I said, all business-like, “I will tell you if you do me one favour.”

  The Fae threw back his head and laughed. “Favour? You don’t demand favours from me. You’re just a…”

  He didn’t finish his statement. I used the moment to take control of the situation and folded my arms. “Exactly. You don’t know what I am. I could be a thousand times more powerful than you. I could use the strength I have to bend you to my will. Until you know what I am, you can’t control me.”

  “You actually think that you could use your strength to make me do something?” The disbelief dripped from his voice.

  “I broke your sister’s cruinne, remember?” This time I was the one taking a step forward. “Who knows what I can do?” I hoped that my bravado was working. I was pretty sure that there was nothing I could do to control any Fae; even the weakest of their species could probably grind me to a dusty pulp if they so desired. I tried to remember that I had bested a demi-goddess, even though that had been with the help of Anton and Corrigan. Okay, Anton and Corrigan had bested a demi-goddess and I’d been the warm up crew.

  Solus regarded me with a mixture of wariness and amusement, then airily flicked his hand through the air. “Fine. Tell me what you want and I’ll consider it.”

  “No. Either you grant me this boon, or all deals are off. I don’t have time for you to go away and consider anything.”

  “You demand a lot.”

  I stayed silent and just waited, trying not to let the desperation show on my face. It couldn’t be long until the mages showed up.

  He sighed expressively and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Tell me what you are.”

  “Do you really think I’m that stupid? First the favour, then I’ll tell you.”

  “A Fae’s word is his bond. You should not dare to question my integrity.”

  “Oh puhleeeze,” I drawled sarcastically. “How many double-edged promises have your kind made? Eternal life but in a decaying body? Or how about granting perfect beauty and yet leaving no soul? Or aiding childless couples and then demanding the longed for baby as payment?”

  Solus scowled. “You read too many fairy tales, shrew.”

  I ignored the unpleasant nickname. “The favour first, Solus.”

  “Fine. What is it?”

  I gestured to the office door. “I need you to take her to your…wherever it is that you live, and keep her safe until I can work out how to sort all this out.”

  Solus stared at me silently for a moment and then stalked over to the office. He stepped inside and then almost immediately sprang back out. “The mages,” he hissed.

  I shrugged. “You promised. All I need you to do is keep her safe.”

  “Why would you do this for her? You barely know her. She has no power to speak of.”

  “She’s in trouble because of me. This is my responsibility.”

  He glared at me. “I have no desire to get mixed up with the human wizards. They can be...tricky.” He blinked slowly. I had no idea whether it was in exasperation or acquiescence and didn’t realise that I was holding my breath to hear his answer until he spoke again. “But I did promise. I will take her to Tir-na-nog.”

  “And you won’t harm a hair on her head.”

  “What do you take me for? You should learn some manners, shrew.”

  “Stop calling me that and take her now.”

  “I…,” Solus began before looking up at the exit to the shop. “You’re out of time, I think. The mages are here already.”

  Before he’d even finished speaking, the dark shape of three cars drew up outside. “Then go now, Solus.”

  “I cannot get my answer if you are taken by them.”

  “I can handle myself,” I stated, more calmly than I felt. I gave the Fae a little shove. “I will keep my side of the bargain but you must get her to safety.”

  He gazed at me expressionlessly for a heartbeat and then walked over to Mrs Alcoon and scooped her up effortlessly into his arms. Her body sagged like a rag doll’s. “I will find you and get my answer.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  The doorknob of the glass entrance began to turn. Solus stared at me solemnly for a moment and then with a brief shimmer in the air suddenly both he and Mrs Alcoon were gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  I wasn’t quite sure what I’d been expecting. I think a part of me had had visions of a Gestapo style entrance, complete with clicking heels and straight armed salutes. There would be a commandant of some kind trailing behind the main group, black leather gloves tugging at a lit cigarette. My experiences with Alex , the ‘surfer dude’ magician, should probably have prepared me for the opposite.

  The lead mage didn’t look like a member of the Nazi secret police. He didn’t even look like a mage. He was just impossibly young, with chubby cheeks and tousled hair. The waft of stale marijuana smoke clung to his clothes and assailed my nose, even from the other side of the room. Not far behind him, a girl tripped in wearing quite possibly the most bizarre costume I’d ever seen. It was in the shape of a saucy French maid’s uniform, with a high puffed out skirt held in place by layers of frilly stiff petticoat, with colours that were, well arresting. There was a neon green heart on the front, with further neon pink and yellow starburst shapes shooting out from behind it. Her hair was black, probably dyed, and hairsprayed into pigtails that jutted out at least half a foot from her head and of which Pippi Longstocking herself would have been proud. I wondered for a brief moment if I should be offended that the Ministry of Mages thought that sending a pair of circus clowns would do that trick, before reminding myself yet again that appearances were deceptive and that I should probably just be glad they hadn’t sent more minions.

  The pair of them were clearly in the middle of a pressing argument.

  “No, no, no, no, no. Are you a mentalist, Martha? Are you mental? There is no way that Captain Kirk, Captain James Tiberius Kirk, would be beaten by anyone from the X-men. He might not have super powers, but he’s clearly of superior intel
lect and with superior cunning and all round abilities.”

  Seriously? Mage Trekkies? I half considered calling on Solus to tell him the deal was off. Martha, for her part, simply grunted unimpressedly at her partner’s assertion. Perhaps she wasn’t much of a Star Trek fan either.

  He continued on. “I mean, sure Wolverine has mad skills but you have to take into account that James T. Kirk is quite simply…”

  The Trekkie stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. Mute Martha didn’t quite notice me so quickly and slammed into his back. Swearing loudly, she lifted a hand to cuff him round the head, and then her eyes widened as she too saw me. Her arm dropped by her side and her mouth fell open.

  Clearly this didn’t happen to them very often. I pasted a wide bright smile. “Hi! Welcome to Clava Books. How may I help you?”

  They both continued to stare at me. Wow. These two really did have to work on their reaction times. If I had been some big bad nasty (and maybe I actually was) then I could have probably pulverized these two into dust by now.

  I tried again. “Is there any book in particular that you’re looking for?”

  Martha recovered first. She flicked her fingers and sent a flash of orange light hurtling towards me. I dodged out its way, skipping to the side behind a bookshelf and calling out, “Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it?”

  The beam of light smashed into the wall behind where I’d been standing and sizzled an old poster with curling yellow edges advertising the latest Gaelic ‘blockbuster’ on famous salmon spawning spots in the highlands.

  Grunting again to her hash sodden partner, Martha said something to her partner. I could hear both of them moving, taking up different spots around the shop floor, trying to outflank me. I felt the heat inside me uncoil and smiled humourlessly at its return. For a moment, I gazed at my fingertips and watched them spark at the edges with flickers of green flame, before dismissing them by curling my fingers into my palms. Displaying my newly found witchy powers might not be a good idea if this went against me.

 

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