Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2) (15 page)

“My mother left me at the pack in Cornwall when I was just a kid.  I don’t know why.  I think there had been something after us, something chasing us, and that was the only place she thought I’d be safe.  Somehow she’d known John or he’d known us, I don’t know.  And I grew up there with them, thinking I was human.  I had a bad temper, and sometimes I got…hot inside when I got angry but I thought I was just human.  They all thought I was just human.  When I reached eighteen, John bit me.  I wanted to be turned, to be a shifter.  I wanted to be one of them.  It didn’t work.”

I was silent for a few moments, remembering that terrible time.  I’d been in a fever for days, twisting and turning in sweat soaked sheets, my body fighting the shifter infection.  All that pain had been nothing compared to the crushing disappointment when I’d come out the other end and realised that I hadn’t changed and that I was still the same.  That’d I’d never really be part of the pack no matter how much I wanted it.

“I stayed with the pack though.  They were my family.  John trained me to help them and I helped keep the perimeter safe.  It turned out that even though I didn’t have it in me to be a shifter I still had certain skills that proved useful.  I was a good tracker, and I could hunt and kill with the best of them.  When there was a problem, John called on me.”  I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice at that.

“And then he was murdered.  Because of me.  Because somehow Iabartu found out what I was and she wanted my blood.”  I shrugged.  “Apparently it has some special qualities.  It has healing power as well as being somehow addictive to anyone who tastes it.  And it gives me power.  I didn’t find any of this out until I found some papers in John’s study.”  I swallowed painfully.  “He’d known all along what I was but hadn’t told me.  I don’t know why.  But still, I went after Iabartu to kill her for what she did and I was arrogant enough to think that I had enough power to bring her down.  I didn’t.  Corrigan and Anton were the ones who killed her; I was just a momentary diversion.”

Solus continued to silently watch me.  The weight of his gaze became too much and I looked down, away from his eyes, before continuing.

“Anton made me leave the pack.  He said I was dangerous to have around and he was right.  Being what I was had caused John’s death.  If I hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t be dead.  So I left.  I couldn’t tell anyone why.  Corrigan still thinks I’m a shifter because if he knew differently then he’d destroy the Cornish pack.  No-one is supposed to know of their existence, you see?  So I ended up in Inverness, hiding.  Like a chin-fucking-chilla.  Much good the hiding part did though because all I’ve done is cause even more problems.”

I looked back up at Solus.  “So, there you go.  That’s it.  Do what you want with the information.”

Solus cleared his throat.  “And the green flames?”

I motioned to the necklace that lay heavy round my neck.  I really should just have taken the stupid thing off, consequences be damned.  “That was some weird thing a witch did to me.  A friend of Mrs Alcoon’s.  It was meant to help me with Derek and Corrigan and…you.  Instead all it did was make me spout fire from my hands and get the Ministry to put Mrs Alcoon into that coma because the so-called friend told them about me. So now I need to put it right.”

“Let me make sure I understand this perfectly.  You’re part dragon.  You’re not a mage but you have the power of fire.  And a bad temper.  And crazy blood.”

“I guess that about sums it up, yes.”

“How did you break through my sister’s cruinne?”

“I hit it until I bled.  The blood, I don’t know, the blood did something to the ring and broke through it.  Like I said, it does stuff.  I don’t really know what.  I’ve tried to find out more about the Draco Wyr but there’s not much around.”

Solus ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t believe it.”

That stung.  “I’m not lying.  I told you I’d tell you the truth and I’ve kept my word.”  I got to my feet and dusted my jeans off.  “Just tell me how to get out of this place, Solus.  You’ve got what you wanted.”

“I didn’t mean I don’t believe you, I just don’t believe it.  The Draco Wyr are a legend.  They’re not real.”  For the first time since I’d known him he sounded unsure of himself.

“You mean like faeries and wizards and shapeshifters?”  I put my hands on my hips.  “Come on, Solus, get a grip.”

He stood up also and took me by the shoulders.  “This is big, Mackenzie.  If the High Queen – or King - knew what you were…”

I jerked away.  “You don’t have to tell them.”

“No, I probably don’t.  But I also don’t think you can keep this secret for much longer.  Who else knows what you are?”

“Tom, a werewolf from Cornwall, and Alex, a mage.  And Mrs Alcoon.”

Solus’ eyes widened slightly.  “So effectively the mages and the Pack know what you are?”

“No.  One mage and one shifter know what I am. Plus one very, I cannot stress this enough, very minor witch.  And now one Seelie Fae.”

“You don’t think that they will give you up?  If this Tom is compelled to by his alpha then he’ll have no choice.  It won’t matter how much you trust him.  The same with the mage.  A bit of magic to loosen his tongue and the whole world knows.”  He rolled his eyes.  “At least the old lady isn’t going to be blabbing to anyone any time soon.”

I winced at that last comment.  “They’ve not given me up thus far.  And the werewolf’s alpha is Corrigan.”

“Fucking hell, Mackenzie, you like sailing close to the wind.”  He sighed deeply.

“And you, Solus?  Will you be compelled to give me up?”

“I don’t know yet, Mackenzie.  We could use your blood.”

I must have looked faintly sickened by that because he hastily backtracked.

“Not your actual blood.  We’re not vampires.” His lip curled in distaste.  “I just meant that your powers would come in handy.  Come with me to Tir-na-Nog.  We’ll talk to the Queen.  I can guarantee your safety.”

“I need to sort out Mrs Alcoon, Solus.  I can’t just leave her in stasis.”

“She’s safe.  We’ll work out something.”

“No.  I need to talk to the Ministry to get them to lift the spell.  It’s the only thing that will definitely work.  You’re right.  I’ve been hiding and I need to face the music.  I have to still stay away from Corrigan and the shifters but if I can get to the mages before they kill me then I can save Mrs Alcoon.”

I eyeballed Solus.  I’d known him for all of five minutes and had absolutely no reason to trust him.  The only thing he’d promised me was that he’d keep Mrs Alcoon safe.  Beyond that, what he decided to do was anyone’s guess.  But he’d been right.  I’d been hiding myself away instead of confronting the issue.  I needed to sort this out, for Mrs Alcoon’s sake if nothing else.

“Will you help me get out of here, Solus, and get to the Ministry?”

He was silent.  I prodded him.  “Solus?  Please?”

“You have to understand, my little dragonlette, that I can’t get you right to the Ministry.  They are very…security conscious and they don’t like the Fae.  There’s a considerable amount of iron and magic surrounding their headquarters that prevent someone of my kin getting close.”

“But..?” I forced the issue.

“But okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

“What about your High Queen?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ve not made up my mind.”

‘Well at least you’re being refreshingly honest, Solus.”

“Rather that than be eaten alive by an angry red-headed dragon.”

I scowled at him in annoyance and he grinned back.  “Then let’s do this.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I don’t know much about the interior of the Ministry’ headquarters, you understand, just its whereabouts in London,” Solus stated solemnly.

“Yes, yes,” I dismissed him with a wave.  My mojo was returning and having the absence of a workable floor plan was not going to get in my way.

“I can transport you from here to about half a mile away.  That way we’ll definitely avoid triggering any of their sensors.  The combined magical forces of the Ministry in protecting their own can be…formidable.”

“Ooooh, is the great Solus scared of a few pesky human wizards?”

“Shut it, human.”

“I’m not human, I’m a dragon.”  I pulled back my shoulders and tried to look impressively wyrm and scary like.

Solus stared at me in baffled puzzlement.  “What ARE you doing?”

I slumped ever so slightly.  “Nothing.  I’m just mentally preparing myself for battle.”

“Well, you’ve changed your tune, my little Konglong.”

“Konglong?”

“It means terrible dragon in Chinese.  You know, they revere the dragon in Chinese culture and…”

“My name is Mackenzie,” I said primly.  “You may call me Mack.  Nothing else.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.”

I thumped him on the shoulder.  “I’m going to need some weapons.  All I have are my needles and silver ain’t going to do much against a mage.”

Solus stared at me.  “You can shoot fire from your fingertips and you want some weapons?”

I shrugged.  “I would feel more comfortable with some steel to work with.  Can we make a pitstop somewhere along the way?”

He harrumphed.  “Fine.  I might know a guy.”

“Great.”  I looked around the gloom.  “There’s absolutely nothing on this plane at all, is there?  We should leave.”

“I would beg to differ, Mack.  This is a halfway house between your world and one of the underworlds.  The portal was created to provide a link for the dying between what you call Earth and, well, hell.”

I was alarmed.  “Hell?”

“One of many,” Solus stated airily.  “Of course it’s been out of action for centuries.  I don’t think anyone ever comes this way anymore.  I was surprised in fact that you found your way here, although I have to admire your ingenuity.”

“Hell?”

“Yes,” he said impatiently.  “Where you go when you die.”

“If I kept walking down that way I’d be in hell?”

“Really, Mackenzie.  For someone who has lived her life amongst denizens of the Otherworld, your education is sorely lacking.”

“We lived quiet lives in Cornwall,” I protested feebly.  “We didn’t go thinking about…hell.  Where’s heaven?”

“It’s not THE hell.  It’s just A hell.  There are many.  And really heaven or hell are just words.  You end up in the same place.”

“But…”

“Do you want to leave this place or not?”

“Okay, okay, I want to leave.”  A shudder ran through me.  “Now would be good in fact.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Solus gripped my shoulder and the air around us started to shimmer.  The nausea began rising in my stomach again until I was biting back the urge to vomit.  I screwed my eyes shut tight and held my breath.

A few moments later, Solus’ hand squeezed my shoulder painfully and then he removed it.  “Okay, we’re here now.”

I opened one eye and then the other.  It was daytime and, after the darkness of the limbo plane, it was painfully bright.

“Do you know, I think I must be getting better at this.  I don’t think I’m going to be sick this time,” I said confidently, just before my stomach rocked greasily and I started retching.

“Yes, you’re a real dimension tripper,” Solus stated without a trace of humour.

I stood up, wiping the back of my mouth with my sleeve.  “Oh God.  I’m going to need food and a toothbrush before we do anything.”

“And here was me thinking that you were a big bad scary dragon who needed nothing more than a sword to batter down the Ministry of Mages.”

“Well, I could bowl them over with my breath, I suppose, but I’d rather do it on a full stomach.”  I eyed him seriously.

“Fine,” he said, and starting pulling me across the road.  Oblivious to the rules of good road safety, Solus ignored the car careering round the corner and slamming on its brakes to avoid hitting us.  The owner honked its horn loudly and painfully.  I gestured an apology to the driver, who gestured something far ruder back.

“How terribly ill-mannered,” I murmured.

“What?” snapped Solus.

I didn’t bother to give him an answer.  Spotting a small café on the corner of the street, I began heading in that direction.  Solus looked at me, annoyed.  I gestured towards the café.

“Food.”

“Please.”  Solus rolled his eyes.  “I am not eating there.”

“Why not?” I protested.  A huge fry up would be just the thing to settle my stomach.  I bet with myself that they did vast urns of coffee as well.  If I was going to take on the entire Ministry of Mages, there was no way I was going to do it uncaffeinated.

“Alcazon is round the corner.  We shall eat there.”

“Alcazon?”

“Yes, it’s very cultured.  You’ll like it.”

I’d heard of Alcazon.  The girls back at the Cornish pack had often mentioned it in conversation.  It was Otherworld friendly – and particularly over-priced and frequented by the elite at the same time.

“Solus, don’t you think we should be flying under the radar rather than going somewhere where people go to be seen?”

“I like the pickled quails’ eggs with celery salt,” he said simply.

“What?  That’s not food!  I want bacon and eggs and beans and coffee.  Lots and lots of coffee.”

He stopped for a moment and looked at me.  “Do you have any money?”

“Ummm…,” I paused.  I was pretty sure I’d given everything I had away to Yellow Anorak for the use of his phone.

“Well then.  I’m paying, so I get to choose.”

“Solus, I’m wearing clothes that reek of bonfires.  I’ve not showered for two days.  I’ve not cleaned my teeth for two days.  I’m carrying a backpack with all of my worldly possessions in it and look as if I’ve slept on the streets for a week.  I don’t think Alcazon is the kind of place that will like having me as a patron.”

“You’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

I took that moment to glance him over.  He was wearing some kind of tailored suit with a perfectly crisp white starched shirt.  How did he manage that when we’d just been planted for hours in a halfway house to hell?  I supposed I should be thankful that his shirt wasn’t gigolo transparent this time.  But really, whilst my appearance was the least of my worries, being clean would surely be some kind of vague prerequisite to gaining admittance to one of the swankiest restaurants in town.