The Sweet Scent of Blood s-1

by Suzanne McLeod

  I swivelled round. He was lying on his side a few feet away, his hands forced behind his back and shackled to his ankles.

  ‘Nothing she doesn’t deserve.’ I shot him a fierce grin, rubbing at the aftershocks sparking along my stunned arm. Then my relief changed to worry as I took a good look at him.

  His eyes were sunken, his skin pale and waxy-looking and the sleek sable hair covering his flanks had lost its sheen. The wounds down his chest and stomach had stopped bleeding, but they were still raw. His horns had shrunk to small triangular bumps, almost hidden in the matted blond of his hair. And the spell swirled through him like a malevolent grey fog.

  ‘The bitch’s got the keys,’ Finn whispered.

  ‘That’s going to make it easier then.’

  Toni’s breathing was steady, like she was in a deep sleep. The white shorts and top were leather, and glove-smooth. I slid off her and shoved her over onto her side so I could get to the small bump in her pocket: two small silver keys, both set with crystals. I allowed myself a tiny moment of satisfaction as I tossed them in the air and, ignoring the burning sensation, caught them in my hand.

  When I turned back to Finn his eyes were closed. I touched his cheek and his skin felt hot and clammy. I smiled as he opened his eyes.

  ‘Hugh?’ he whispered.

  I glanced up at the nearest plasma screen. Rio had sunk her fangs deep into Hugh’s neck and was worrying at him like a rabid dog, but Hugh looked unconcerned. He’d trapped her in a bear hug, his thick muscled arms crushing her torso. I guessed that neither was gaining on the other, thanks to the Earl ‘keeping an eye on the situation’.

  ‘He’s holding his own just now,’ I said. ‘What about you?’

  Finn gave me a tired wink. ‘Thought I’d hang around and catch the show. That bit was the best so far.’ A coughing fit shook his whole body

  ‘Can’t say I’m impressed.’ I leaned over him. The gem-studded shackles were held together by a short silver chain. ‘Let’s get you out of these.’

  ‘Not yet, Gen,’ he whispered.

  I sat back sharply on my heels. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Stupid bitch didn’t realise ...’ He sucked in a wheezing breath, ‘the shackles are muting the spell.’

  ‘Got it,’ I said, understanding. I had to remove the spell first—the last thing I wanted was for Rio to be able to snag a last-minute magical power boost from Finn that would kill him and Hugh both.

  I risked another look at the screens. Rio had Hugh face-down on the ground and was pummelling his head. I hoped the Earl’s attention wasn’t slipping. I pressed my lips together. Nothing I could do about it yet.

  Now for the difficult bit.

  The Earl might think removing the spell would be a piece of cake, but it was going to be more like trying to swallow the whole giant-sized gateau in one suffocating mouthful. I needed something to help the spell go down. The brownie’s magic should do the trick—if I could get it to come out and play. I rested my hand on Finn’s shoulder, wincing at the feverish heat of his skin—he certainly needed the comfort more than I did—and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I conjured Agatha’s voice in my mind.

  A brownie’s touch goes to them that needs it.

  Pink and orange motes floated before my eyes. I pictured my kitchen, and the salt in its cardboard container. I started throwing the motes at the salt, splattering them like paint, focusing my will. C’mon ... come on ... It had to work. Focus, I told myself, chewing my lip as my stomach knotted ... There was a thud, and something stung against my legs. My eyes flew open.

  The salt had arrived—but the container had split and the salt was spread like white sand across the blue-rubber floor. Still, I’d called it. I punched a fist in the air. One down, two to go.

  I grabbed a large pinch of salt and held it to Finn’s mouth. ‘Open up,’ I told him gently, ‘it’ll help unstick the spell.’

  He stuck his tongue out and I touched the salt to it. He shuddered and forced himself to swallow, pressing his lips tight together. I grimaced and hoped he wasn’t going to sick it up. I watched him for a moment, then gave him some more.

  I stroked Finn’s arm and called the next thing I needed. My stash of liquorice torpedoes arrived without the plastic jar, raining down like enormous hundreds and thousands. I stuffed a handful in my mouth and sighed in relief as the sugar hit my system and made it easier to concentrate. Calling the vodka felt almost effortless after that. I even managed to land the bottle upright. I drank a scant mouthful, then gathered up more salt, poked it in the bottle and shook it up.

  Finn watched me through half-closed eyes, a pinched, disgusted expression on his face.

  I gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Think of it like a margarita without the lime.’

  ‘Hate margar—’ Another racking cough interrupted his complaint.

  I ignored him and when it stopped, I tipped the bottle up and trickled the salty mixture into his mouth until it was gone.

  The grey fog raged and boiled around Finn. It was making me queasy. What if I tried to take the spell and it didn’t work? I pressed my hands to my stomach, which felt like it was caught in a vice—Oh wait, I was still wearing the fucking corset! I yanked at the laces. Skin to skin was always better for magic anyway. I pulled the loosened corset down over my hips, taking the net skirt with it, and kicked the clothes away. The spell felt like greedy grabbing hands, wanting more, all the time. What if, rather than absorbing it, the spell consumed me instead?

  ‘I’m going to undo you, Finn.’ I clutched the silver keys, feeling them burn against my palm. ‘I don’t know what’ll happen when I call the spell.’

  He moved his head slightly in agreement. Leaning over, I unlocked the shackles and pulled them apart, freeing him. I slung them out of the way. Finn groaned in pain and curled in on himself. For an instant I saw something black at the base of his spine. His tail? Then it was gone.

  Moving carefully, I lay down behind him, gently spooning along his back. His heart beat fast and shallow against my breasts, the hair on his flanks was rough against my thighs, his shoulders clammy beneath my cheek. The smell of sour berries caught at the back of my throat and I swallowed back my tears.

  This had to work.

  I hugged him tight and called the magic.

  The grey fog surged up and over me. I opened myself to it, inviting it in. It rushed through me, spiralling fast, whirling me into a vortex. I let go of Finn and rolled, over and over, spinning the grey with my body. Gold drops sparked, running like thin golden streams through the whirlpool, draining away at its centre. I poured more gold into the vortex and the streams turned to torrents. Gasping for breath, I stopped rolling, then threw myself into reverse, forcing the torrents to funnel up from where they flooded away. The whirlpool started to slow and the gold and grey bands coalesced and stretched into long sticky strands that set like a cage of cooling sugar ... and trapped the spell. I stopped rolling and lay there for a moment, my pulse speeding with anticipation and fear.

  I shattered the cage.

  The spell crumbled into dust that drifted sweet into the air and I floated on a golden haze. Tiny perfect black pearls of magic floated with me.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  ‘ Genny,’ Katie’s voice sounded urgent, ‘Gennny, pleeease wake up, you’ve got to wake up—’

  Katie?

  With the after-effects of the magic still wafting through my mind, I sat up, wobbled, squinted up at her. Mascara smudged across her cheeks, her hair hung in a messy ponytail, and her jeans and vest top were creased and dirty.

  I frowned and rubbed my hands over my face.

  Then I stared at the vampire gripping her arm. His own blond ponytail was much neater, his grin was full of fangs, and his frilly red shirt billowed in a nonexistent breeze. My heart tripped anxiously as I recognised him: the count, aka Red Poet, the leader of the fang-gang.

  He looked at me. ‘Good, you’re awake. I am pleased it didn’t take you long to recover.’
<
br />   ‘You’re not the only one.’ I scrambled to my feet, my pulse thudding. ‘Only I have to admit to being disappointed that you didn’t get staked for real in the Théâtre du Grand-Guignol .’

  ‘Good,’ he laughed, ‘you have a sense of humour. Let’s see if you find this funny.’ He bent and kissed Katie on the forehead. She flinched and he laughed again. ‘Tell your friend what it is we want, child.’

  ‘I’m not a child,’ she sniffed.

  Relief settled in me: she couldn’t be too badly hurt if she could still backchat him.

  ‘Talk, child.’ He shook her arm.

  ‘He wants you to be his Blood-Bond,’ she said, sneering up at him.

  ‘Let me guess.’ I bared my teeth at him. ‘Katie is my incentive? ’

  ‘Good, you are smiling.’ His grin widened. ‘I will enjoy spending eternity with you as my slave.’

  ‘Genny, don’t do it, you mus—’ Katie stopped as the blankness of a mind-lock crossed her face.

  ‘She really is the most annoying human child,’ he said. ‘She never closes her mouth. But as you can see, I have not hurt her. She is my little lottery ticket.’

  I looked surprised. ‘You do the lottery?’

  ‘Of course! Unfortunately for me, in my younger days I was more interested in having fun than in salting away a fortune for my future.’ He sniffed disdainfully. ‘You don’t think I enjoy being staked, do you? The pay is good, but it takes me five humans to recover.’ He grinned again. ‘But now I will have you, a sidhe.’ He leered at me, running his gaze over my naked body. ‘And you will keep me warm at night, in more ways than one.’

  Movement caught the corner of my eye.

  I stuck my hands on my hips and took a deep breath, pushing my breasts out at him. ‘So we’re talking what, exactly? Sex, blood—and what else is part of this bargain?’

  He wasn’t looking at my face any more. ‘That all sounds good.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I frowned, stroking my stomach. ‘I want to know what type of sex first.’

  ‘Sex is sex.’ He took a step nearer, pulling Katie with him as he started sniffing at me like a bloodhound.

  ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong.’ I trailed fingers over my breasts. ‘Are we talking with or without magic? What about partners? Is it going to be just me and you? Or are you into threesomes? Foursomes? Girl on girl, what?’ I turned sideways and run a hand down over my hip. ‘There’re all sorts of things to consider.’

  He licked his lips, almost panting. ‘Yes. All of that.’

  I waved at him, to get his attention back on my face. ‘And what about getting staked for a living, are you—?’

  His eyes went wide. He let Katie go as he lurched forward. Looking down at himself he touched the spreading wet stain on his shirt and opened his mouth ... but no words came out.

  Katie’s face lost its blank look and she stumbled, falling to her knees at my feet. She crawled behind me, shaking.

  Suddenly Red Poet jerked, his limbs shaking like a rag doll’s, and Katie screamed. I jumped, startled, as the vamp flew through the air and dropped, thudding onto the blue-rubber floor.

  Katie screamed again and I crouched, pulling her into a hug. ‘Shush, shush, it’s okay, He can’t hurt you now.’ I patted her back, feeling her body still trembling under my hand.

  Finn stood and stared down at the vampire with a satisfied expression. Bright red blood dripped off his ten-inch-long horns, trickling into his hair and down the side of his face.

  Katie subsided into enthusiastic sobbing.

  I glared up at him. ‘Took your time, didn’t you?’

  He grinned back at me. ‘I was enjoying the show, Gen.’ Then he sank to the ground and collapsed in a heap.

  Shit.

  I dragged Katie over to him and slid to my knees clutching at his shoulders. He briefly opened one eye. ‘S’okay, just a bit tired. Go help Hugh.’

  ‘Is he all right?’ Katie hiccoughed.

  I looked.

  He was clear of the spell. Relief winged through me.

  Up on the plasma screen, Hugh and Rio were facing off, circling each other again.

  I smashed the end off the vodka bottle and held it out to Katie—as a weapon against a vamp it wouldn’t do her much good, but it would make her feel less helpless. ‘Think you can stay here and look after him, Katie?’

  She took the bottle, and cast a wary eye at Red Poet. ‘He’s not going to get up, is he?’

  I spotted the silver shackles. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t.’

  She huddled next to Finn, twisting her mouth into something that nearly made it to a smile.

  I grabbed the shackles and fastened them around Red Poet. I sort-of thought he was dead, but without taking his head and heart, I couldn’t be sure, and no way did I have time for that.

  ‘Genny, why are there liquorice torpedoes all over the place?’ Katie asked, bemused.

  ‘In case you fancy a snack,’ I muttered, looking round. Something was missing—

  ‘Ha ha. I get it,’ Katie rolled her eyes and stuffed a couple in her mouth. ‘Ask a stupid question,’ she mumbled.

  —Toni the witch bitch was gone. Fuck. I grabbed a handful of the torpedoes myself and headed off to the fight.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The Earl was waiting for me. His blond hair flopped over his forehead, as usual. His eyes were a solid blue, much like the floor. He’d removed his frock coat and boots and stood there naked, his white skin dull, corpse-like. And nude, that was really all he had that was worth commenting on.

  Only I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that.

  He smiled his charming smile. ‘Bravo, my dear. Your removal of the spell has done the trick and now Rio is weakening. ’

  A map of blue veins snaked under his skin. It had been a long time since he’d fed—looked like he’d been saving himself for me. How nice was that?

  I stopped a few feet away. ‘What about Hugh?’ I demanded.

  He waved a hand above him, where the plasma screens were showing a close-up of Hugh. He was bent over, hands gripping his thighs, his black hair dusted with red, his chest heaving for air. Trails of white silicate blood ran from his neck and over his shoulders. Beneath his feet I could see the blue-rubber floor, so I knew he was still somewhere in the ring.

  The tension in my stomach twisted tighter as the camera panned round and Rio came into the shot. She was on her knees, shoulders slumped, one arm hanging useless at her side.

  ‘As you can see,’ the Earl said softly, ‘the outcome seems to be a sure thing, all done bar the shouting. Your troll has the upper hand.’

  ‘Cut the crap and tell me what the deal is.’

  ‘I find your bluntness revitalising my dear. So, as you ask, let us get onto the deal. It is as I proposed to you in my note. You will take my Blood-Bond along with the spell of course, and in exchange I will offer you my protection.’

  Yep, that was pretty much what I’d expected. He wanted me for himself; he wasn’t planning on selling me on. Not that his protection made any difference, seeing as it would last only as long as he did.

  The Earl broke into my thoughts, almost as if he’d read my mind. ‘If you have any concerns about my ability to protect you, please put them aside.’ He spread his hands wide in an all-encompassing gesture. ‘With our combined powers, and the spell, I sincerely doubt any other would be able to stand against me.’

  Of course, he would have to be the megalomaniac type, wouldn’t he?

  He gave me an enquiring look. ‘I take it by your silence that you have destroyed the spell?’

  ‘You take it right,’

  ‘Ah. I did wonder if that would happen. But worry not, for the situation is still retrievable, as you will see.’

  The air shifted, pressure popped at the back of my head and I blinked to clear away the slight disorientation. The Earl had done his time-pause thing again.

  Toni stood behind him, her face blank in mind-lock. The cap of white-blonde hair
almost hid the swelling purple bruise in the centre of her forehead. In her hands, she held a short knife and an ornate silver cup, faint steam swirling above it. No doubt it contained the spell.

  Time to do some bet-hedging of my own.

  ‘Hugh,’ I shouted.

  ‘He can’t hear you, my dear.’

  ‘He can hear you though, can’t he?’ I kept my gaze fixed on the screen. ‘Tell him to look up and wink his left eye.’

  The Earl tilted his head as if listening.

  Hugh’s massive hands clenched and his face filled the screen, deep fissures creasing in his red skin. He bared his polished granite teeth in a growl.

  ‘He refuses,’ the Earl said, his tone indifferent.

  I bared my own teeth in a smile. I hadn’t expected Hugh to agree. But now I knew he was alive and we weren’t just watching a recording.

  Now for the rest.

  I walked over to Toni and took the knife from her unresisting hand and slashed it across the raised red scar running down my left arm. Blood welled as I dropped the blade. I took the cup in my right hand. It felt cool to my fingers, so not silver then. I turned towards the Earl. ‘Here’s the deal. I want Rio dead, and you give me your word that you will allow all my friends—and their friends—to leave and go home in safety. Do that, and I’ll agree your terms.’

  Surprise flickered across his face. ‘I had thought you would object much more strenuously.’

  I hoisted the cup and offered my bloody arm. ‘Do we have a deal or not?’

  He inclined his head at Toni. ‘Is the witch included in your negotiations?’

  ‘No.’ She doesn’t need to be, I added silently.

  He rubbed his hands. ‘In that case, it is agreed.’

  A chime split the air.

  Above me on the silent plasma screen, Rio staggered to her feet and stood there swaying. Hugh lowered his head and charged towards her, his feet thundering across the arena. She held out her arms, as though to catch him. He crashed into her, head-butting her in the chest, knocking her backwards, and she lay broken on the blue floor as Hugh moved to stand over her.