Corrigan Fire: Bloodfire

by Helen Harper

  ***

  We walked through the forest with the arrogant shifter I’d clocked earlier leading the way. His name was Anton. Even that sounded supercilious, as if his parents had consulted a divination almanac to look into the future and choose a name for him that would suit his personality. At least he had the sense to stay quiet while we walked. We needed to focus on the trail left from the night of the murder, not be bothered by inane chitchat. Even at this late point, the scent of blood clung to the air at various spots. I agreed with the Cornish pack’s own assessment: John had been attempting to draw his attacker away from their keep. There was little in the Otherworld that would have the ability to take on thirty-nine pissed off shifters combined. He could have used his Voice to alert his pack so they’d be ready. It would have been the smart thing to do; instead he’d tried to hide their existence – which meant the likelihood of any of his own shifters doing this to him was virtually nil. I wasn’t really surprised; it had been a long shot at best.

  I knelt down at an odd dark patch on the worn path. It was blood, but there was something else there too. I sniffed. Faint, but definitely vinegary.

  Thomson was expecting to hear from me. I opened up a link to him, including a mental snapshot of the area. There’s some strange substance here. I need you to come and take a sample so we can get it tested.

  At once, my Lord Alpha.

  ‘What is it?’ Staines asked.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not sure. Some kind of chemical, perhaps.’

  Anton moved awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘We should get going, Lord Corrigan. If we leave it much longer, it’ll be too dark to see anything at the beach.’

  I nodded and stood up. ‘Then let’s get going.’

  We picked up speed, the reek of old blood combined with sea air getting stronger. By the time we climbed to the summit of the dunes, heralding the break between the greenery of the forest and gold of the beach, it was almost overpowering. Anton halted.

  ‘This is where we found him,’ he said. ‘This is where he died.’

  He hadn’t needed to utter the words. Death clung to this place and a few spots of the dried blood was still visible on the verge of grass below and the sand under our feet. I swallowed. It had been a violent end. I circled round the area, first one way, then another. The Cornish shifters had done what they could to tidy everything up; after all, they couldn’t afford any humans happening upon an obvious crime scene. It didn’t make my life any easier though.

  ‘Who found him?’

  A muscle throbbed in Anton’s jaw and he looked away. ‘Mackenzie.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘She,’ he answered shortly. ‘Mackenzie’s a she. She’s got,’ he paused for the briefest of moments, ‘brown hair.’ There was something else he wasn’t saying.

  Who is she? I compelled.

  His answer was surly. A shifter. I’ll point her out later.

  Of course she’s a shifter. What else can you tell me about her?

  There was a long moment of silence before he replied. She’s not much of a team player.

  I twisted round and stared out at the dark horizon. I had a pretty good idea who she was.

  Chapter Five

  I felt guilty about commandeering John’s study. I needed a quiet space where I could meet each of the Cornish shifters individually, not to mention pore over the various reports regarding his untimely death. Unfortunately, it seemed to be about the only sensible space. It was a small room, albeit as clean and tidy as the rest of the keep, and smelled of nothing more than leather and old books. His essence still clung to it, from chewed pens in the top drawer to the overflowing shelves. Casting my eye over them, I had to admit that his personal library was remarkably comprehensive, with all manner of modern and traditional shifter favourites, as well as a few books that surprised me, such as a Fae dictionary. He clearly hadn’t been one of those alphas who thought that the only part of the Otherworld worth bothering with was the shifter part. It made me wish I’d taken the time to get to know him better.

  I turned on the computer but, annoyingly, it was password protected. I frowned. It would be useful to gain access to his files in order to see whether he had anything pertaining to who might have killed him and why. There was also the bottom drawer on the far left of the desk which was, by all accounts, sealed shut – and not with anything as mundane as a key. When I reached down and attempted to yank it open, I received a burning shock across my fingers as thanks. Shaking off the pain, I considered my next move. I could probably smash through the ward but it was never really sensible to mess too much with magic unless you knew what you were dealing with. Besides, it was becoming increasingly likely that we were going to require further outside intervention. I decided it wouldn’t be too hard to pay for a mage to come down. At the very least, they’d be able to help me gain access both to the computer and the mysterious drawer.

  Deciding that remaining in this personal space wouldn’t endear me to any of the Cornish shifters, I moved to the cramped office just outside. It wasn’t as comfortable as the study and it was clearly used by a whole range of different people from the lingering scents in the air. At least it wasn’t filled with ghosts though. Julia, when she entered for her formal interview, seemed to approve of the move.

  ‘So,’ I said, after we both sat down, ‘how did you end up here in Cornwall?’ Thanks to Lucy’s meticulous research, I was already well aware of the minutiae of her background but it was amazing what you could find out about people when you allowed them the chance to speak.

  ‘I’ve always been here,’ she answered simply. ‘Born and brought up. A lot of shifters would think it’s quiet, but I enjoy it. We’ve got countryside, beaches, enough shops and towns to buy what you need and appreciate a more urban life, and the humans are very good about leaving us alone.’

  ‘Yes, I heard something about that. They think the pack is some kind of cult?’

  She nodded. ‘We put the rumour about ourselves. They spend countless hours dreaming up stories of virgin sacrifices and less-than-holy ceremonies. It keeps them busy and stops them from wondering about the truth.’

  ‘It’s a clever idea,’ I told her honestly. ‘I might pass it along to the other packs in case they can benefit from it.’

  She inclined her head.

  ‘And the garden outside? With the herbs?’

  A hint of pride reached her eyes. ‘Yes, that’s mine too. You could call it a hobby but you’d be surprised how often those plants come in handy.’

  I smiled at her. ‘You mean when you need to look after the younger shifters?’

  ‘Just that.’ She rolled her eyes but it was with more fondness than exasperation.

  I took advantage of the moment to slip under her guard. ‘What was your relationship like with your alpha? John?’

  She met my gaze. ‘He was respected by everyone.’

  ‘Did you respect him?’

  ‘He was the best shifter I’ve ever met,’ she said simply. ‘He had time for everyone. He was open-minded and fair and…’ Her voice trailed off and her eyes looked glassy.

  I gave her a moment to re-compose herself then asked, as gently as I could manage, ‘You’re seeking to replace him though?’

  ‘I have the Voice. I can feel that it’s not all there though. I mean, I can communicate with the rest of the pack. And when he died, I felt it. Like an electric shock or something.’ She glanced at me earnestly. ‘You must have felt the same when Brady resigned.’

  ‘Mm.’ I was non-committal. Oddly, I’d not felt a thing. And he’d not resigned; he was as dead as John was.

  ‘But,’ she continued, ‘I know there’s little power behind it. I don’t have the ability to compel. So if you think someone else should be alpha – even if you want to bring in someone from outside – then it will not be too difficult.’

  I laughed. ‘Somehow I get the impression that outsiders find it hard to fit in here.’

  Julia grinned back. ‘It can be
difficult, admittedly. But sooner or later things even out. Johannes, our chef, came from a different pack. You’ll get to taste his, um, efforts later.’

  I had the sudden and very distinct impression that I really didn’t want to. ‘Once we complete the ceremony, you will be able to compel at will,’ I told her.

  Her expression flickered and, for a moment, I couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or disappointed. I could certainly relate to that. ‘Thank you, dear,’ she said finally. Then she realised what she’d said. ‘I mean, my Lord Alpha! Thank you, my Lord Alpha! Goodness,’ she put her hands up to her cheeks, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  I laughed. ‘Don’t worry about it. You can call me dear whenever you want to.’

  ***

  The meal was as unappetising as I’d expected, given Julia’s tone when she’d mentioned the chef. It was a relief to finish, although I did manage to get some interesting information about a piece of cloth that had been found close to where John was last seen.

  ‘You should smell it, my Lord,’ Boyne said, his nose wrinkling, ‘it absolutely reeks of death.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘In an outhouse.’ He grinned. ‘We are in the countryside, after all, so there are bound to be plenty of sheds all over the place. I still can’t get the stench of it out of my nostrils though.’

  ‘Make sure it’s carefully examined at first light.’

  He nodded dutifully while I stood up.

  ‘You don’t want seconds, my Lord?’ Staines asked, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘I’ll pass,’ I said drily.

  It wasn’t just the food that was making me desperate to leave; it was the constant sidelong glances I seemed to be receiving from just about everyone who wasn’t Brethren. The vast majority of looks were adoring, which simply rankled. I’d not done anything yet to receive such positivity. I wanted to earn my place, not merely receive silent praise as a result of nothing more than my rank. Despite that, however, I couldn’t help noticing that there was one particular shifter who was absent.

  ‘I’m going for a walk,’ I told my dinner companions.

  Staines wiped his mouth. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Some thinking time will do me good.’

  ‘My Lord, we don’t know what killed the alpha yet. The perpetrator could be anywhere.’

  I couldn’t help teasing him ever so slightly. ‘Are you suggesting I’m not strong enough to take whatever it is on?’ He visibly balked and I felt instant contrition. ‘I’m sorry. I have the Voice if I get into trouble though.’

  ‘He had the Voice too,’ Staines grumbled, although he didn’t argue any further. I probably only got lucky because we were in public – relatively speaking, anyway.

  The outside air was crisp and cool. It felt good to no longer be cooped up. I quickly pulled off my clothes and inhaled deeply, relaxing my muscles in preparation. The familiar tingle of pain rippled across my skin but, before goosebumps could form, my bones snapped and creaked and dark smooth fur sprouted. Then I was on all fours, bounding away from the keep, my vision already altered. My heightened senses tingled as I caught wind of a rabbit. I battened down the urge to hunt; I had to take advantage of my werepanther abilities while I could and leave bunny rabbits alone in favour of using my enhanced skills to retrace John’s trail again. At least in this quiet little county, it would be easier to enjoy the freedom of the outdoors than in London. It would hardly do for the Lord Alpha of the Brethren to be seen by a human.

  The wind whipped past me as I sped up, heading towards the same forest path Anton had led us down earlier that day. The smell of old blood was more obvious now and, Staines’ concerns in my mind, I slowed to a walk, padding more carefully and quietly. My ears told me there was nothing larger than an owl in the vicinity but it never paid to be reckless. I paused momentarily at the odd, acidic-smelling patch; it was no easier to identify now than it was when I had been in human form. Trusting that we’d find out the truth sooner or later, I moved on.

  It wasn’t simply because of secrecy that I enjoyed shifting at night. Night or day, the range of colours I was capable of seeing as a panther was considerably diminished. I could still register different hues, but they weren’t as bright or as attractive as when I was merely human. I had often wondered why pet toy manufacturers wasted time creating brightly coloured baubles for cats to play with. I guessed the cats weren’t the ones with the bank accounts though. During the darkness of night, however, colour didn’t matter – in fact, everything was clearer when I shifted. My peripheral vision became extended and I was able to detect motion with far more ease than usual. When a nearby hedgehog stirred, pattering across some dry leaves, I could pinpoint exactly where it was and what I’d have to do if I wanted to catch it. So even though the light pollution in Cornwall was minimal, I could still see with perfect clarity.

  I continued down towards the beach to the location where John’s body had been found. I wasn’t quite willing just yet to venture onto the sand. I didn’t know this area well enough to tell whether it would be safe to allow myself to make giant paw prints across the dunes. Better safe than sorry. Instead, I kept myself to the edge of the trees, weaving in and out and occasionally dropping to my haunches when I heard a noise. There was nothing out there that was unnatural, however. At least not until I heard footsteps. Ears twitching, I eased myself further back into the trees but drew closer to the sound. I sniffed then drew my lips back over my teeth. I knew that scent. I was on higher ground here so, despite the dunes in front, my line of vision was clear all the way to the glittering sea. It wasn’t the water I was interested in though.

  I hunkered down, watching carefully as Mackenzie made her way out of the long sea grass and towards the flat sand. There was another figure there, waiting. He looked familiar, and I realised he’d actually been standing next to her during the initial assembly. An involuntary growl escaped me. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me that she’d already be attached.

  She saluted him sloppily. Without exchanging a single word, he passed her a long wooden staff, keeping one for himself. I settled back. A fight. This was going to be interesting. Even from this distance he looked like a werewolf and that meant he would be strong and fast. Despite the power I’d sensed within her, she was still a girl. I wondered if he’d go easy on her. When he immediately swiped at her with swinging force – and she only just ducked her head in time to avoid it – I realised that he wouldn’t. I felt my tail twitch in answer. I shouldn’t have worried, however. She immediately responded by smacking him in the knees and causing him to fall over.

  ‘Been practising much?’ she asked when he got back to his feet.

  He didn’t answer and instead began circling her. He kept his own staff close to his chest and seemed like he knew what he was doing, but when he lunged forward for a second time he still found nothing but air. It wasn’t until his third jab that he managed to actually hit her, connecting the wood with her hand. Mackenzie, however, barely reacted. I’d have said they were fairly evenly matched, were it not for the fact that there were several occasions when she was patently holding herself back. I puzzled over it. He was strong and adept. She had to be a powerful shifter indeed to keep him at bay so easily. I hoped they’d take things to the next level and she’d shift so I could finally work out what she was. When he momentarily stopped and pulled off his clothes, I purred. It was about time.

  As I’d expected, he was a werewolf. He obviously kept himself in good shape and his coat was glossy and healthy. Instead of shifting herself, however, Mackenzie merely continued in human form. More startlingly, she was still in control of the fight. There’s no way a human body should be able to defend itself properly against a wolf without being very, very lucky. When she knocked him down again, obviously winding him, I caught myself narrowing my gaze as if to assure myself that what I was seeing wasn’t an illusion. If she could manage this and remain in that body, then she’d be truly magnificent when s
he transformed. Whatever she was, she’d be the perfect addition to the Brethren.

  The wolf dropped all finesse and slammed himself into her, forcing her to fall. When his body landed on hers, I stiffened.

  ‘Tom, if this is when you decide to shift back to a naked man, I will not be happy.’ She said it lightly, as if bantering with a friend. Excellent. And even in that compromising and vulnerable position, she still managed to pull out a knife and make him finally capitulate. Disappointment clouded through me as he shifted back to human and I realised the fight was over.

  ‘One day I’m going to beat you at this, Mack,’ he said.

  I cocked my head. Mack, not Mackenzie. It suited her better.

  ‘I have no doubt. You need to watch your left side before you shift though. You keep leaving yourself open and you need to work on your body tension. I know what move you’re going to pull five minutes before you do it.’

  She was teaching him. It made sense; she was, after all, by far the more powerful. She also had an odd accent. Some words came across as lilting Cornish, but some were harsher. I’d lay money on her being one of the shifters like Johannes who’d joined this pack late from another part of the country.

  ‘Are you using mind tricks again?’ Tom asked, his voice drifting in from across the beach.

  ‘I don’t need to, your body does all the talking.’

  ‘I’ll practise in the gym when we get back.’

  Even from this distance, I could see her expression hardening. When she spoke, and I registered her words, hackles rose up across my spine. ‘Tom, about the Brethren.’

  ‘Don’t. I know you’re going to try to talk me out of it, but don’t you see I have to try? John is gone, there’s no reason to stay.’

  ‘It’s because John is gone that you have to stay,’ she snapped. ‘We need shifters who can guard against whatever got him.’

  ‘Mack, if you couldn’t track it and John couldn’t survive it, I don’t think I’ll do much good.’