Blood Magic

by Jayne Hawke

  “No one’s sure yet. The higher ranking fae all seemed shocked, but we all know they lie for a living. It could easily be that the dead fae spoke out of turn or was stupid enough to try and make a power grab,” Kerry said, sounding unconvinced.

  “Go on...” I pressed.

  She was clearly holding something back.

  “Ok, so, the body was drained of blood. Not a drop in there,” she said.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “You are not going to try and convince me vampires are real. Everything knows they’re just a myth,” I said.

  “Of course not,” Kerry rolled her eyes.

  I settled on a show about the hippocampus races.

  “You have to admit it’s really weird, though,” Kerry said.

  “A witch probably got to the body before it was found. Fae blood will be packed with magic; it’ll sell for hundreds of thousands on the black market. Assuming they don’t use it themselves,” I said.

  I wasn’t sure what had rattled Kerry about this murder. Sure, it wasn’t a run of the mill assassination, but it wasn’t that odd for the court fae to attempt to kill each other. They were all cutthroat and determined to hold onto as much power as possible.

  Kerry closed her laptop.

  “The body was found barely ten feet from the York court; that’d have to be a ballsy witch,” Kerry said.

  “You’re convinced this is something weird.”

  She looked at me. Her usually carefully styled pixie cut looked a little flat and messy in that moment. Kerry’s eyes went a little larger, and she almost looked vulnerable for a moment. I looked away. She was just a cat trying to manipulate me into what she wanted.

  “You have to admit that this isn’t run of the mill,” Kerry said.

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “Ok, fine. I’ll admit it isn’t normal. But there will always be those who get a bit creative. Who’s to say that it wasn’t the work of some new assassin trying out a signature? There are rumours that the Shadow Fox likes to fill their victim’s lungs with shadow or burn them from the inside out,” I said.

  I wasn’t convinced that the mysterious Shadow Fox existed. They seemed a bit too good at their job, larger than life. If the stories were to be believed, they were the finest assassin to ever exist. The fae were said to tell their children stories of the Shadow Fox to keep them in line.

  Kerry sighed and stretched her legs.

  “So, tell me about you and Ethan.”

  I looked at the TV and ignored her question. I should have insisted on sticking to the topic of the weird murder. Talking about my feelings wasn’t something I was even slightly comfortable with.

  “How’re things with you and Matt?” I said idly.

  I felt the glare Kerry gave me burning into the back of my head.

  “Ethan really cares about you, you know. Even a blind person would be able to see the way he looks at you.”

  “You and Matt have been spending a lot of time together. He raves about your abilities as a hacker.”

  “Don’t lead Ethan on. He’s an amazing guy, and I don’t want to see him get his heart broken,” Kerry said softly.

  “If you hurt Matt I’ll hunt you down,” I said casually.

  “Has Matt finally made his move? He was planning it out with me and Cade last night,” Dean said as he sat down on the other end of the couch.

  I fought back a smile. I knew that Matt had been whispering about something with the cu sith, I just hadn’t been sure what.

  “No, I haven’t spoken to him yet today. Maybe I should swing by and see him on his lunch break,” Kerry said smoothly.

  Part of me thought I was supposed to be more protective over Matt. He was my baby brother. But he was an adult; he was turning nineteen soon. Sure, Kerry was a few centuries older than him, but he was plenty old enough to make his own decisions.

  “How’re you and Ethan getting on? Are you moving into his room soon?” Dean asked.

  I groaned.

  “Did you know that the hippocampus races have patrons from all around the world? It’s said that the successful jockeys make a few million a year,” I said.

  “That’s a no, then,” Dean said with a grin.

  I said nothing.

  “Cu sith are all about their pack and pair bonds. Once they’ve found the one, they don’t wait” Kerry said.

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Cait sidhe much prefer to play and explore our options before we commit to anything,” she said with a purr.

  “Well, us demigods like to see how things go and make no hasty decisions,” I said.

  Dean laughed, and the tension in the room dissipated.

  “We need to come up with a better name for your species,” Dean said.

  “Witch-god?” Kerry offered.

  “No, it makes her seem like a full god. Fallen mongrel? Like the fae mongrels?” Cade offered from the doorway.

  I shot him a poisonous glare.

  I hated when people called Matt a fae mongrel. I certainly wasn’t going to take on the name for myself.

  “How about unique and beautiful?” Ethan said.

  “I like the sound of that,” I said with a grin.

  “Cheat,” Kerry muttered.

  FIVE

  Ethan took me into his office and closed the door behind us.

  “People are talking about the offspring of a dark witch and fallen god pairing,” he said solemnly.

  I rubbed my temples. I knew that word would get out when I used my magic. It was too big, too obvious. The hounds would have been able to feel it, if nothing else. Then there were the witches and the fae. The fallen we saved might have talked, too.

  “How bad is it?” I asked.

  Ethan gently placed his hands on my hips.

  “Nothing we can’t handle. I would feel better if you officially joined the pack and moved in with us, though.”

  I rested my hands on his hard chest and looked up into his eyes. His magic rippled just beneath the surface. I could feel the powerful predator there, waiting.

  “I need my space. It’s not you.”

  It was partially him. The threat he presented. I hadn’t known him very long. He was exactly what my father had warned me against over and over while I was growing up. His eyes held only gentle affection, but I needed more time to really get to know him. To be sure.

  He reached up and caressed my cheek with a small sad smile.

  “I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.

  Kerry’s words about life bonds flashed in my mind. It was true that there was something about Ethan. I’d relaxed around him from the moment we met on the city walls. Still, it wasn’t my nature to rush into things like that. I couldn’t afford for it to be.

  “Who’s talking?” I asked.

  Ethan’s lip curled slightly.

  “A few of the high court fae. There have been whispers that they’re sending their best out into the city to try and snare the being in question,” he said with a growl.

  Fantastic. So, I had fae bounty hunters trying to track me down. It was far more difficult to keep my magic bottled up, too. The more I used it, the more it remained just beneath my skin rather than hiding deep inside of me. I feared that there would be a time when I couldn’t hide it at all. I reminded myself that I’d had no idea my mother had been a witch. She had always seemed like a normal human to me. It gave me some hope at a chance of a normal, quiet life.

  “Anything we really need to worry about?” I asked.

  Ethan pulled me a little closer to him, a distinctly protective gesture.

  “No cu sith have been hired. There may be an elf, though. I don’t know if the hounds themselves are trying to track you down, and my contacts with the witches have been quiet thus far,” he said.

  “Are they planning on killing me?”

  “At least one wishes to capture you alive.”

  I thought back to the agony the fallen gods had been in a
s their magic was drained. That wasn’t going to happen to me.

  “To drain, I assume,” I said drily.

  “Perhaps. They may try and bind you to them and use you as a tool,” Ethan said.

  I wasn’t sure which fate was worse.

  “You’re an unknown quantity. There will be those who wish to kill you on principle. Others will try and steal away your magic. You don’t have the natural defences that a full-blooded god does, and that will make you more vulnerable to the witches.”

  “So, I need to improve my magic,” I said.

  “We need to be sure that you can take on any threat.”

  He was right, I knew he was right. It went against everything I’d been taught. I’d been in hiding my entire life, and now I had no choice to.

  “I need to use my magic to help people. If I’m going to be hunted, then I need something positive to come from it.”

  Ethan smiled at me, a warm expression that spread across his face.

  “You are an incredible woman,” he whispered.

  I returned his smile and allowed myself to lean into him and take the sanctuary he offered. Even if only for a moment. It was going to be a long and difficult road. I needed every respite and spark of hope I could find.

  SIX

  The pack had gone out running around the moors in their big hound forms. Ethan had returned me home before they went out. I was a good runner, but I’d never be able to keep up with the long-legged hounds, and it was no fun slowing them all down.

  A run seemed like a good idea, though. I couldn’t sit inside and be cooped up. The idea of people hunting me, knowing exactly what I was, prickled the back of my mind. It should have made me want to hole up, put me on edge for attack, but all I could think about was doing normal things and not letting my life be dictated by it.

  I changed into a comfortable pair of leggings, running shoes, and my magically imbued leather jacket – just in case. I felt naked without my daggers, but Ethan was right. I needed to work with my magic, and I could form weapons with my god magic now.

  I took my time to stretch out on the pavement in front of our house. The sun had set two hours prior, and the streets were eerily quiet. I knew that there were predators prowling in the shadows, but I couldn’t hear them. The feeling of eyes against my back made me tense. Slowing my breathing, I continued my stretches and waited as my magic rose within me.

  The witch magic stretched out into the darkness and brought back images of more magic. Something with pale sparks dancing in its blood. I licked my lips as my witch magic reminded me how good it would feel to take the sparks from the being’s blood. Gritting my teeth, I set off down the pavement at a steady jog. I planned on heading down to the river and really pushing myself for a couple of hours. Fighting against the unknown meant that I needed to be strong, fast, and have good stamina. Leaning on my magic would make me weak and vulnerable. I needed to be able to kick ass without it.

  Fae mongrels and addicts watched me as I passed. I didn’t so much as glance at them, but I felt their magic, their life essence. The being with the small sparks in its blood had slipped away only a block away from home. I assumed it was a smaller feral fae of some form hunting for the night.

  I reached the river at a steady run. My breathing was still steady and even. A smile spread across my face as I glanced across the dark ribbon of water and saw the city in its night wear. Soft gold lamps spooled out light forming deep shadows and halos of safety. The old buildings stood tall and strong, stretching for the black sky. Thick clouds were covering the stars, but I could feel them there.

  A soft splash came from the river, and I hoped I wasn’t going to have to fight off a dobhar chu. The splash came again, further away that time. I allowed myself to pick up the pace and enjoy the quiet of the city. Gone were the sounds of addicts bartering for their next fix, shouting from drunks, and soft moans from the dying. Ethan had offered for us to live in the sanctuary of the pack house where I’d never need to worry about those things again. Our house was home, though. I wasn’t ready to relinquish those memories.

  Rustling drew me from my own mind. Suddenly, I felt the boundary line that I’d crossed. It felt like a deep murky chasm to my witch magic. I’d just run straight into the hag’s territory, and she was pissed.

  It was too late to play the supplicant, and at some level I was probably looking for a fight. For that matter, this particular hag had been an obstacle to my regular jogs for years. One way or another, the soon-to-be-dead were going to be washing their own clothes for a while.

  She shouted at me in Gaelic, something threatening or warning by the tone.

  “No! Fuck you! No one speaks Gaelic anymore, and you know it!” I replied.

  I gripped onto my god magic and yanked, trying to pull out a pair of arm-mounted blades I’d seen in a movie and had a good feeling about. What I got was a huge two-handed morning star I had as much idea how to use as I did a nuclear reactor.

  Funny stuff, I thought.

  I could almost feel the war god magic shrug its slippery shoulders. Apparently I was going to have a training day today. Everyone was being so helpful that way lately, it was just the best.

  The hag advanced on me, nails grown into ugly claws, one hand gesturing in a simple repeating motion. I felt magic coming, and grabbed onto it before it could reach me, drawing the muddy, malformed power into me. I was shocked at the strength of it. I’d been arrogant, had let the washerwoman’s appearance and lowly position deceive me. This was a faery, and there was no non-combat model of faery.

  Before the power could overwhelm me, I lurched towards her, massive club held in front of me like a longsword. My muscles were straining to keep it steady, let alone in a functional guard, but whatever her powers they didn’t appear to extend as far as summoning weapons. Thus, I reasoned, having it ready for a good whacking would be enough.

  I reached her just as the globular slime of her magic surpassed my ability to take in. As I swung my weapon clumsily down at the little old lady that had so confidently moved against me, I felt my lungs begin to fill with swamp water. I lurched forwards, coughing and retching, and she took the opportunity to sweep her claws along my abdomen before easily moving past my swing.

  It was painful, but shallow. As long as I could keep from drowning, I might manage to put my morning star to good use. I reached down into the blood magic my mother had given me and focused on putting life-giving energy into my own blood. I felt it stinging in every inch of my veins and knew I’d grabbed the wrong thread. Whatever I’d added, it wasn’t going to keep me going. I swept the slate of my mind clean and focused outwards again, taking a deep breath and turning to the hag who was steadily slashing away at the magically reinforced jacket Ethan had given me.

  It wouldn’t last much longer, and neither would my oxygen. I felt the breath being forced out of me by her water and pressed down on the flow with sheer kinetic force, keeping my lungs at least partly clear. I might have had the magical talent of a child, but I had the magical power of a demigoddess. I swept the mace at her in a long, clumsy arc. She tried to duck, but her martial skill wasn’t up to par. Filthy water was her power.

  The weapon slammed into her shoulder and tossed her to the ground. The pavement under her turned into soft mud, and her shoulder was quickly regenerating as algae slimed over the wound. She landed softly, and the swamp she’d made turned her back upright. She was good as new in seconds, or at least she looked it. There was no way she was actually made of algae. The repair job would be weak, maybe even superficial.

  “So, are you people born wrinkly, hideous geriatrics or do you start out normal and become horror shows over time?”

  She snarled at me and jumped forwards, swiping with her good arm and catching my raised weapon. Her nails snapped off along the haft of the morning star, and she howled in rage even as they grew back. She made a follow up with the other arm, and as she did I slammed the hilt into her armpit. I was right – the fix was nowhere near full st
rength. The arm sloughed off like rotten wood, and she panicked.

  She opened her mouth impossibly wide and sprayed me in a torrent of swamp water. It stank and shoved at me, but water was water. I raised the morning star high above my head and slammed it down, crushing her head and snapping her gnarled kneecaps backwards under its weight.

  Swamp water continued to pour out of what was left of her mouth in a gusset, but it was death throes. This fight was over.

  A river of dark murky water flowed from my boots when I took them off and turned them upside down. I had to peel my leggings and t-shirt from my skin when I got into the bathroom. My hair clung to my face, and I found flecks of dark mud pressed against my scalp. Damn hags.

  Closing my eyes, I stepped into the shower and muttered a thanks to Ethan. Thanks to him, we could afford to have long hot showers. In that moment, that hot water was the best thing to have come into existence.

  SEVEN

  Once I was clean and dry again, I settled onto the couch and opened up the laptop. It was time to find a nice fun movie to lose myself in.

  “What did you do...?” Matt asked when he walked in.

  “Got into a fight with a hag,” I said casually.

  I was torn between the sequel to one of my favourite spy movies and a fun looking sci-fi about a heist on an alien planet.

  “That really mean one down by the river? You know that the entire ecosystem around there will be thrown off if you killed her. Right?”

  He flopped down next to me and pointed at the sequel.

  “She started it,” I said as I clicked on it.

  “I’ll remind you of that when we get a dobhar chu infestation. I dread to think what feral fae she was the only thing keeping out of trouble. There were rumours about a spriggan hiding out there.”

  I groaned.

  “Seriously? I thought spriggans only hung out around Cornwall.”