Текст книги "The Sweet Scent of Blood"
Автор книги: Сьюзан Маклеод
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
Chapter Forty-Two
The blood was hot and salty and thick—human blood—with an extra kick from a recent venom hit. And when that thought finally penetrated, so did another: the vampire sucking on her neck hadn’t been Malik. The blood door hadn’t worked, or at least not as I’d hoped.
I dragged my mouth from her throat and shoved her away. I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm the exhilarated thunder of my heart. I wanted more. I felt like I could feed on her forever. Clenching my fists, I looked down at my half-finished meal: Hannah Ashby, the ladylike accountant who’d delivered the silver invitations, aka Corset Girl, the vamp junkie from the Leech & Lettuce.
She reclined on the floor, a more normal smile on her face. ‘Well, that wasn’t quite as exciting as I’d imagined, but I suppose allowances should be made.’ She touched her hand to her still bleeding neck and pouted. ‘I really was hoping for more than a quick snatch and suck. You’re sidhe—I thought faeries were supposed to be hot.’
Ignoring her, I looked round at the stone ceiling, stone floor, steel door, thick navy rug and massive oak furniture. It all appeared horribly familiar. I was still in the same underground place, just in a different cave room. I strode to the door and waved at it. Nothing happened. A combination of anger, frustration and fear expanded like a whirlwind inside my head. I wanted to scream and cry, punch something, anything—
I concentrated on calming my thoughts. The blood had banished the hunger and the deep slice on my arm had almost healed, the skin knitting together in a raised red scar. Now I had to get out of here.
I wiped a hand over my mouth and walked back to where Hannah was sitting on the bed. ‘Let’s skip the after-dinner pleasantries, shall we? Instead, why don’t you tell me what I’m doing here?’
‘You need help, and I like to help people.’
‘ Right. Hijacking me is being so helpful.’ I stuck my hands on my hips, ‘I have to tell you, it’s not working for me.’
‘Oh, I didn’t hijack you.’ She tapped her chest. ‘I felt the blood door open and offered.’
‘Come off it, Hannah,’ I snorted, ‘until now I haven’t had your blood.’
Her smile turned sly. ‘But you did, a tiny taste, maybe, but enough to still count.’ Reaching out, she stroked her fingers across the tattoo on my hip. ‘You may not be wearing the same body, but that’s a minor technicality. It appears that the two of you are becoming so entwined that there is almost no separation.’
I gritted my teeth. Had the need for blood pulled her—Rosa, my Alter Vamp—from—well, wherever she was, and given Hannah an opening? Maybe the tattoo hadn’t worked in the gardens because Rosa hadn’t been hungry? I pushed all the questions into a dark corner in my mind; I didn’t have time for them.
No use crying over spilled—well, blood, I guessed. ‘Again. What do you want?’ I demanded.
‘I like helping people, Genevieve. I find it very rewarding.’ She stood and gestured behind her at the bed. The vamp sprawled across it, one leg hanging over the edge of the mattress as if he’d been so exhausted he’d just fallen onto it without conscious thought. ‘For instance, I rescued this poor lamb. His Master gave him the Gift and then left him to starve. He was going quite mad with hunger.’
‘We should all be so charitable.’
‘Exactly. Rio thought you’d make a nice first meal for him, only I appropriated him before that happened.’ She took hold of my left arm, stroked her fingers over the almost healed skin. Her touch was gentle, hypnotic. ‘And I’m sure that the four vampires Rio did finally give you to enjoyed you immensely—and they were much more effective at removing the iron poisoning from your body than just Darius would have been.’ She leaned in and licked the swollen bite on my neck.
A shudder of need rippled through me.
‘Without the loss of blood, you really might not have survived, even with your strange heritage.’ She kissed my mouth, the faintest touch of her lips. ‘My help is always free, I never ask for anything, but I always find it returns to me in such interesting ways.’ She sat back down on the bed, circled her hand round Darius’ ankle and smiled. ‘He really was very satisfying.’
I shook my head to clear the slight wooziness brought on by her touch. Had she just told me she’d saved my life? Not that it mattered; she was after something and no doubt I’d find out what sooner or later. Until then I had other more important things to do.
‘If you want to help so much, take me to Malik al-Khan,’ I said flatly.
‘Malik can’t help you, Genevieve.’ Her low, warm laugh echoed round the cave room. ‘I am afraid he still dances to his Master’s tune.’
So much for Plan A.
‘Fine. Get me a phone then.’ I waved an arm at the room. ‘Or get me out of here.’
‘We’re underground.’ She smoothed a hand over the silk sheets. ‘When the goblins excavated into the rock down here mobile phones hadn’t been invented, and the vamps are so archaic that as yet they haven’t made provision for communications. And as for getting you out’—she sighed, standing up—‘sadly, not everything is in my power. I am, after all, just a human. We’re in the middle of Sucker Town, and the vamps are gathering for the Challenge.’ She moved to stand in front of the huge wooden wardrobe. ‘The likelihood of you escaping and being able to get help to rescue all of your friends in time is an impossibility.’
Friends, plural? The word snagged my attention. ‘You said “friends”?’
She smiled at me like I was a child. ‘Well, you’ve more than one, haven’t you?’
Katie. An anxious knot tightened in my stomach.
Hannah opened the wardrobe and placed some clothes on the bed.
I stared at them. What was I going to do if they had both Katie and Finn?
‘Don’t just stand there,’ she chided me, and I realised what I was looking at: her Corset Girl outfit.
‘Hurry up and put it on, unless you want to go out there naked.’ She pulled a long blue evening dress out and held it up in front of her, her eyes sparkling. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ She stroked a hand over the shimmering silk. ‘John Galliano made it especially for me.’ She glanced up, a mistrustful glint in her eye. ‘But don’t get any ideas about it. I know I said like to help, but I draw the line at lending you an original Dior.’
Her dress was the last thing I wanted.
Chapter Forty-Three
The skyborn goblin curled her long cats’ whiskers, regarding me with her blue marble-like eyes as she slid her finger down her nose. I returned the greeting. A deck of cards appeared on the blue baize card-table in front of her. She picked up the cards and shuffled the pack, the cards whizzing through her triple-jointed fingers almost too fast to see, then she carefully placed them face-down on the table.
‘Hurry up, Genevieve. You need to pick a card,’ Hannah shouted in my ear, trying to make herself heard over the whoops and whistles and jeering.
I pressed my lips tight together. Nowshe wanted to hurry. The cave room had opened onto a stone-hewn corridor with a small underground stream running down the middle. Hannah had sniffed, then lifted the long silk skirt of her Dior and picked her way carefully up the slight slope, trying not to scuff her Jimmy Choos. I’d stomped along behind her in the Corset Girl outfit. Her boots were too big for me, so I’d stuffed them with tissue. The puffball skirt was itchy and scratched against my thighs, and she’d had to lace the corset so tight to stop it falling down that even my small breasts were bursting out over the top. By the time we’d reached the circular metal staircase that led upwards, my patience was running thin enough that I was ready to heave her over my shoulder and carry her. The staircase had taken us up into the empty—but noisy—interior of the Leech & Lettuce, the Blue Heart blood-pub.
There was another loud burst of sound, and Hannah nudged me. ‘They’ve started.’
I glared at her in disbelief, snatched up the cards, and started to turn them over.
‘No look, Lady,’ the goblin ordered, waving her bony fingers at me.
‘What the hell am I supposed to do then?’ I asked.
‘Just pick up half the pack, and give it to her,’ Hannah said. ‘Or she won’t let you in.’
‘Fine.’ I put the cards back and cut the pack.
The goblin took them and handed me back the bottom card. ‘Participant.’
‘I’m not here to participate,’ I snapped.
Hannah put her arm round my waist and gave me a quick hug. ‘You want to save your friends, don’t you? You can’t do that by watching.’
‘I wasn’t planning to.’ I shrugged out of her embrace. ‘And I wasn’t planning on playing games either.’
She gave me a knowing smile. ‘Check your card, Genevieve.’
I turned it over. The face of the card was printed in flat grey, only as I looked, the grey swirled and eddied. What a surprise—not! I went to give it back to the goblin, but she shook her head.
‘You have to keep it,’ Hannah said.
Of course, I did. I stuck the card down my cleavage.
Hannah picked her own slice of the pack. Her card was painted red. ‘Blood,’ she announced, her face disappointed. ‘Well, I suppose it’s only to be expected.’
‘Get a bleedin’ move on, pets.’ The voice came from behind us.
Tensing, I swung round to face a short, stocky vamp in black wraparounds and full goth outfit flashing his fangs in a grin. ‘We ain’t got the time to muck around, y’know.’ He pushed past us and grabbed half the stack of cards. His card was black.
‘Spectator,’ called the goblin, hiking a thumb over her shoulder at the steel door behind her.
He slapped the card against it. As the door slid away into the wall, noise slammed through the opening like a tidal wave. He strutted out.
I started to head after him, but Hannah gripped my arm. ‘I need to show you where to go.’
‘Hurry up, then,’ I snarled, my patience at an end.
Outside, Hannah led me to a tarmac walkway. I squinted, trying to shield my eyes from the glare of the huge stadium lights. To either side of me was scaffolding, and the underside of wooden planks. Another roar assaulted my ears. The planks rattled, dust filtering down between their cracks as the crowd stamped their feet. I dragged Hannah down the walkway and into an arena, where tiered seats looked down on the action, while above the tightly packed spectators hung giant plasma screens. All were showing close-ups of the two contestants in the ring. They were locked together, arms wrapped around each other like pro-wrestlers.
Then the screens switched to show a league table with a list of names. Betting odds flashed next to each name: the Earl, Rio, others I didn’t recognise, and—my pulse started speeding—my own name at the bottom. Odds against me were sixty to one. Malik’s name wasn’t there.
I tugged on Hannah’s arm and shouted at her above the noise, ‘What are they betting on?’
‘The winner, of course,’ she shouted back.
Fuck.
A tiny Monitor goblin whizzed past our knees, blue dreads swinging, a thick wad of paper in his hand. A vampire, his own long curls falling over his face, leaned over the side of the stands and grabbed the goblin by the scuff of his boiler-suit, lifting him into the air. The vamp’s mouth moved. The goblin scribbled on his pad, then thrust it at the vamp. The vamp shot an appraising look at me, nodded, and dropped the goblin. He tucked into a ball as he fell, rolled to his feet and whizzed away, his trainers flashing.
Hannah pointed at the screen. My odds had halved to thirty to one.
The vamp gave me a double thumbs-up and grinned, showing all four of his fangs.
Nice to know someone had confidence in me.
The screen switched back to the match. The two figures were apart, circling each other, arms outstretched in a fighting stance. Both were naked. The camera zoomed in on the smaller one—Rio, her dark skin gleaming like it was oiled. A close-up highlighted the pink-tinged sweat that beaded in her blue hair, moved to focus on her eyes, the whites stained a deep indigo with power, then cut downwards to her snarling lips pulled back over her fangs. Then the camera panned back out, pausing at the bloody bite wound on her shoulder before taking a fast zoom up for a bird’s eye view of the whole arena.
The crowd stamped and hissed and booed.
Now the larger figure, a troll, filled the screen, his massive body glistening a dark red colour. The camera zoomed in again for the close-up. My heart caught in my throat as I recognised Hugh. I broke into a run, watching as his face grew larger above the ring. His grey eyes were clouded like a storm, his nose was chipped, his skin etched with deep cracks. Then his face was gone in a blur of movement.
The crowd jumped up as one and roared.
The screens switched to a wide-angle shot of the two of them grappling across the solid blue of the fight-ring’s floor.
I ran faster, and as I reached the edge, leapt into the fight-ring—
And hit something not there.
I bounced back, landing on my arse. Swallowing down a scream, I crawled back to the edge and looked.
A shimmering dome rose up and over the ring, its bespelled wall inches from my nose. I stared in at Hugh and Rio. Hugh seemed to be winning. He was banging Rio’s head against the blue floor—but as I looked, I saw a thin aura of grey cushioning the vamp and I realised she was using the spell to protect herself by pulling power from Finn. Hugh didn’t have a chance.
My stomach lurched. That meant Finn had to be somewhere near—she needed him close to get the most from the spell. I scanned the dome, but all I see was Hugh and Rio.
And why the fuck was Hugh fighting Rio anyway?
He was supposed to be Katie’s rescue party, and long gone by now.
Hannah bent over me, offered her hand. ‘There’s a containment-spell, ’ she yelled in my ear and pointed. ‘If you want to get in, you have to go round to the entrance.’
I looked round. The arena was a pentagon, with only four of its sides tiered. The fifth side, the one opposite me, was flat space, with no seats, nothing—except for a lone figure in the distance.
I raced round the walkway between the dome and the stands.
‘You’ll need your card to get in,’ Hannah’s faint shout followed me.
Snatching the card from my cleavage, I held it in front of me and felt the brush of magic as I swung round the last corner and into the entrance area.
I stuck my card back between my corseted breasts and strode towards the figure.
Chapter Forty-Four
‘ Good evening, my dear.’ The Earl bowed his head, his blond hair flopping forward. Power gave his skin a translucent sheen, which matched the embroidered blue hearts that entwined in pairs down the front of his navy velvet coat. The coat cut away around his knees to show the tight leather boots that encased his legs. Whatever image he was going for, it wasn’t one I recognised.
‘I do appreciate the effort you’ve made to attend our little soirée.’ He stroked his silk lapels as he cast an appraising glance over my outfit. ‘And you look as delightful as ever.’
I stuck my hands on my hips, my chest heaving as I struggled for air. The corset was so not made for breathing, let alone running. ‘Not sure I can say I’m pleased to be here,’ I gasped. ‘I’ve better things to do with my nights than participate in your little spats.’
For a moment he inclined his head as if listening, only there was nothing to hear. The noise from the crowd was gone, held behind the containment-spell I’d come through. The place was as quiet as the proverbial grave.
I so hoped it wasn’t a bad omen.
‘Shall I enlighten you as to the rules, my dear?’
‘Please do,’ I said, relieved my voice sounded calm, if a bit breathless, despite the anxious thudding of my heart.
‘Rio has issued Challenge to me, as is her blood-right.’ The Earl strolled towards the fight-ring, indicating that I should follow him. ‘She wishes to usurp my position. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘I gave her the Gift, and I would not hesitate to take it from her, except that she has something I want.’
I snorted. ‘The spell.’
‘Correct, my dear.’ His smile leaked charm. ‘Under pre-Challenge negotiations, Rio decided which of the various facilities at her disposal she wished to utilise; she elected the satyr. I have chosen the troll.’
‘All very interesting, but why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?’
‘Certainly.’ The Earl inclined his head. ‘The troll came calling earlier and I managed to convince him to take up my standard.’
‘You mind-locked him, in other words.’
‘Partly true, but there were other factors involved. He had some colleagues with him—he appeared to be very protective of them.’
Fuck.Hugh had walked right into a trap—no, I’d senthim. I clenched my fists. And what had happened to Katie, was she caught too?
The Earl carried on, ‘I fear that the troll will be no match for Rio, not with the magical back-up the satyr is providing for her.’ He held his wrists out as though checking his nonexistent shirt cuffs. ‘I wish you to remove the spell from the satyr. I understand that should be a piece of cake for you.’
Who did he think he was kidding?
‘Then what happens?’ I asked.
‘That should be enough to allow the troll to succeed.’
Surprise made me stop. ‘You want Hugh to kill Rio?’ I’d sort of thought hewould want to fight her.
‘I believe that is what I said.’
‘What about Hugh?’ I asked.
The Earl brushed a speck of fluff off his sleeve. ‘What about him?’
‘It’s going to take some time to obtain the spell. I want an assurance that he’s going to be okay while I do it.’
‘He is a troll. They are solid, dense creatures, usually very difficult to damage irretrievably.’ He held a hand up as I began to speak. ‘But I have a vested interest in seeing him victorious. I will “keep an eye on the situation”, as I believe they say.’
Yeah, right. I pressed my lips together.
We reached the edge of the blue-floored dome. From the audience the fight-ring looked small, barely twenty feet across, but from the entrance it was more like a hundred-acre field. Hugh and Rio were small figures in the distance and Finn was still nowhere to be seen. I frowned, then realised the disparity had to be something to do with the magic containing the dome. I hurried forward.
The Earl caught my arm. ‘Not so fast, my dear. We have other things to discuss first.’
Oh yeah, the blackmail bit.
‘Once you have the spell, Genevieve, please bring it to me. I would hate to find my concentration slipping, thus allowing Rio to win her fight.’
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. ‘I thought you said she couldn’t win without the aid of the spell.’
‘My dear, I can encourage the troll to fight, but I can also make him—what shall I say? A sitting duck.’ He smiled.
Fear fluttered inside me. Did he really have that much power? To make Hugh just stand there while Rio killed him? Well, that worry was for later; first I had to find Finn.
‘You’d better point me in the right direction,’ I said finally.
‘Try not to take too long.’ The Earl gestured towards his left. ‘And one more thing. Please try not to injure the witch. She could still be useful.’
Of course, Toni the witch, my ex-friend, would be there. Who else would be guarding Finn while Rio, her sucker sweetie, was fighting? Only never mind not injuring the witch, how was I going to stop her harming me? After all, she was the one with all the spells hidden up her sleeves.
Chapter Forty-Five
Itook a deep breath and stepped into the arena, then stopped. Hannah’s boots would only slow me down now. I bent down and pulled them off as the barrier shimmered into place behind me and the Earl disappeared, as did the entrance and the distant Hugh and Rio. Damn. The magical dome had expanded even more, and once I started moving, I’d have no way of knowing where I was—or how to get out.
I started running round the outside, my bare feet slapping against the blue-rubber floor. Above me the plasma screens displayed the fight, Hugh and Rio moving in a silent, vicious ballet. After a few minutes, my lungs were screaming for air: the corset didn’t leave much room. I was debating with myself whether to stop and take it off when I caught sight of a figure sitting further in towards the centre. And lying next to it was another.
Breathing and the corset could wait.
As I got closer, the sitting figure jumped to her feet. A cap of white-blonde hair shone under the stadium lights, and white shorts and a low-cut bikini top showed off her curvaceous figure. For a moment I didn’t recognise her as Toni—either she’d been to the goblin hairdresser’s again, or the massive head of hair she’d always sported had been a wig. I was betting on a wig; it made sense—all the time she’d spent hiding in plain sight, trying out different disguises.
Toni jerked her arm up and green light shot from her fingers.
I hurled myself to the side. The stun-spell winged my shoulder and pain arced down my arm. Gasping, I rolled up onto my feet and kept running towards her.
She threw her arm up again.
Again I dodged, and the lightning-flash of green streaked away over my head. Now I was only feet away, close enough to see the spell-stone glowing in her hand. And close enough that this time she couldn’t miss. I only had one chance: I had to crackthe next stun-spell before it knocked me out.
I focused, searching for the spell’s centre.
‘You just don’t know when to quit, do you, Hon?’ Toni yelled.
My heart raced. Gold glowed under my skin. Toni swung her hand up. I could see the bright blue of her eyes. Toni had never had blue eyes in all the time I’d known her. I ducked under her arm and slammed her to the ground, forced power into the spell. She thumped me on the back, crashing the spell-stone against my body. The stone exploded like a firework, a gold-and-green fountain shooting into the air, the colours flared and tiny slivers of jade cascaded down around us.
I’d crackedit.
I sat up, straddling her waist. ‘Sorry, Hon,’ I laughed. ‘Guess your magic’s not all it’s cracked up to be today.’ A bad pun, but the best I could manage under the circumstances.
Toni screamed with rage and swung her other hand, aiming for my head.
‘Oh no you don’t’. I grabbed her wrist, then squeezed it until she dropped a hunk of jade the size of a grape. Snatching it up, I focusedand smashed it against her forehead.
She went out in a burst of green fizzing light.
‘Ouch. That’s gonna leave a nasty bruise.’ Finn’s voice was hoarse.
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 conjuredAgatha’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, focusingmy will. C’mon ... come on... It hadto 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 calledit. 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 calledthe 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. Callingthe 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 absorbingit, 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 callthe 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 hadto work.
I hugged him tight and calledthe 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.
