Blood Politics (Blood Destiny 4) Page 10

  With that accomplished, I logged onto my own email to check to see whether Alex had sent in any updates yet. There was nothing. It was probably too soon. I hoped that he was at the very least outside the shop by now. Its mysterious owner who had Balud so concerned was going to be more likely to show up now that night had fallen, much like many Otherworlders would, if he really was trying to keep his identity a secret. The cover of darkness could hide a multitude of sins.

  I was tempted to venture onto the Othernet, just to see whether or not there happened to be any pap photos of Corrigan with the dark haired shifter who I’d spotted him with before. He’d said she wasn’t his girlfriend – or at least that he didn’t have a girlfriend anyway – but that didn’t mean I didn’t still want to know exactly who she was. However, an announcement came over the tannoy that we were pulling into Birmingham, so I snapped the laptop shut and roughly prodded Aubrey awake instead. He was grumpy and appeared to have somehow lost the power to form coherent sentences, but he managed to disembark and stumble along beside me towards the next platform so we could change trains. As soon as he sat down again, he fell instantly back asleep, his head lolling dangerously towards my shoulder and a small trickle of drool making its way down his chin.

  I watched him for a few minutes before pushing him back upright again to prevent him from using me as pillow. He jerked his head away from me with a phlegmy snort, but then almost immediately started drooping towards my apparently comfortable shoulder yet again. I rolled my eyes, and tried to inch away from him. It didn’t work. Eventually, giving up, I left him alone, ignoring the heavy weight of his head as it landed yet again on top of me. It was a losing battle anyway. I reached back down into my plastic bag and pulled out the vampire book I’d brought along and flipped through the pages. Thanks to Aubrey’s inadvertent transformation I no longer need to exact any sort of revenge on the vamps. It didn’t hurt to know as much about them as I possibly could of course. Unfortunately, the most it seemed to say about curing vampirism was that it was impossible. That was clearly a falsehood so I probably couldn’t trust anything the book said at all.

  I leaned back in my seat, ignoring Aubrey’s muttered protestations as my movements jolted his head and pondered the entire situation. One of the things that Iabartu, the demi-goddess who had set my exile from the pack into motion, had said about my blood was that it could be used to control others. I wondered whether I could make Aubrey to do what I wanted him to now. I flicked him a quick glance. That didn’t seem to be the case so far. I couldn’t even prevent him from falling asleep on top of me. I frowned as my thoughts drifted further. According to legend, Draco Wyr blood also had potential healing properties, although I hadn’t ever tested that theory, despite coming close when Corrigan had red fever, normally fatal to shifters. I chewed my bottom lip. If my blood cured Aubrey, so to speak, could it cure cancer too? How about AIDS? If I’d given some to Julia when she was attacked back in Cornwall would her leg have been able to re-attach itself? What about if I gave her some now? It had to have some pretty fucking strong healing power if it could eliminate whatever it was that made Aubrey an undead being of the night. Bloody hell. Did that mean it could bring people back from the dead? Images of John, Thomas and Brock flitted rapidly through my head, one after the other.

  No. It wouldn’t be right; as much as I wished they were still alive and as much as I regretted the circumstances of all their deaths, even trying to bring them back, regardless of success, would surely upset the balance of nature. I wasn’t prepared to give myself the power of life and death. Nobody should be allowed that kind of strength. It might be worth testing out the curative element, however. That didn’t seem quite so wrong.

  I was still mulling over the possibilities when we pulled into Shrewsbury. I shook Aubrey awake, then got off the train with him trailing in my wake. The station was well lit, with a row of taxis waiting outside. We clambered into one, directing the driver to the outskirts of the town. I didn’t want to broadcast our destination quite just yet, so told him to drop us off at a farmhouse I’d spotted on the map beforehand that wasn’t too far away. Aubrey stayed quiet.

  I looked over at him, thoughtfully. “Aubrey, touch your nose with your index finger.”

  He seemed confused, but did what I asked. I raised my eyebrows. Maybe I could control him.

  “Is this some other human thing?” he inquired “Like the tastebuds?”

  I jerked my head at the taxi driver in the front, silently warning Aubrey to watch what he said. Okay, perhaps I couldn’t control him. He’d probably just followed my instructions because he thought it was a new and exciting human experience. I frowned. There was still something about that bothered me though.

  I waited until we’d been deposited in front of the dark and silent farmhouse, with the driver already disappearing off into the distance, before I spoke again.

  “You were human once. You must have been, what, thirty when you were originally became a vamp?”

  His mouth turned in disgust. “Please. Twenty-nine.”

  “So you know what stuff tastes like. You know that touching your sodding nose isn’t some human thing.”

  “You don’t get it,” he said patiently, “once you are turned, everything else prior to that fades into complete insignificance. I can barely remember my life before then. Once you are attuned to the susurration of blood, to the iron rich succulent density of it, nothing else is important.” He licked his lips.

  My stomach turned. “How many people have you killed?”

  “I take it by people, you mean humans?”

  I nodded.

  “Not that many. Most deaths are by accident really. The average person has ten pints of blood in their system and can lose up to four pints of that before any real damage is done.” He shot me a sly look. “How would you feel if you drank four pints of beer? Would you be satisfied?”

  “I guess,” I said doubtfully. I’d drunk more than that more than once in the past.

  “It’s possible to drink more. Nobody needs to, but sometimes we do.” He shrugged. “It’s not a great idea to leave bodies all the over place though. Especially with the availability of modern post-mortems. We try and avoid it.”

  “But you have killed people?” I prodded.

  “Haven’t you?”

  “No!”

  “You’ve killed Otherworld creatures.”

  “Yes, but…” my voice fell away.

  “They’re not human.”

  “No,” I protested. “It’s got nothing to do with the fact that they’re not human, it’s to do with the fact that when I kill them they are trying to kill me. Or someone else. It’s about protection. I’m not a fucking psychopath.”

  “You already told me you had anger management issues,” he pointed out. “I think that might make you more of a potential homicidal maniac than me.”

  “I have fucking emotions. I feel guilt and remorse and pain and pity. Bloodsuckers don’t.”

  He cocked his head slightly in agreement. “You’re right. I must admit that having feelings again is proving to be somewhat difficult.” Aubrey blinked, his eyes suddenly welling up. “I miss it so much. Not having to think so much or worry so much. I don’t know how you do this all the time. It’s so difficult, Mack.” He sniffed loudly then wiped his nose on his sleeve.

  Jeez. Soulless Aubrey might have been a prick, but this version had the potential to be even more annoying. He wasn’t wrong about the emotions part though. In the past few hours he’d covered a hell a lot of them – and all were at the extreme end of the scale. It was like he was some stereotypically over the top pre-menstrual teenager. I shook my head.

  “Come on then.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “You’re so wonderful letting me come with you, Mack. Just so…”

  I jabbed him in the chest. “Shut the fuck up.”

  His mouth snapped closed and he blinked in acknowledgement. That was bloo
dy better.

  *

  It was about three miles to Haughmond Hill from where we were, first along the tarmacked road and then a right turn up a trail. Now that I was away from the city and back out in the countryside, the pathetic figure of Aubrey at my heels notwithstanding, I felt my soul lighten. In this kind of environment I was much more at home. It was easier to track noises and register the presence of others; in the city with all the constant noise it was virtually impossible. Right now, I knew that the only people in the vicinity were Aubrey and myself. Here, I was in control. There would be no sneaking up on me from behind, no sudden creatures appearing above me without my knowledge, no Otherworld inhabitants getting the jump on me…

  I let out a pained cry as Aubrey inadvertently stepped on my heel, the edge of his shoe biting sharply into the flesh of my ankle. I spun round and glared at him.

  “Idiot.”

  His eyes filled with tears again.

  “Oh, don’t bloody start that again. Although the least you could do is apologise.”

  He stared at me mutely.

  “Well?” I put my hands on my hips, feeling slightly like some old school headmistress waggling her finger at a recalcitrant child.

  Aubrey opened his mouth and then closed it again.

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking sulking?”

  He still didn’t answer. Hold on a minute. I thought back to the last words I’d said to him and considered. “Okay, you can speak if you want to.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” he wailed. “I’m so terribly sorry, Mack, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just it’s dark and I’m not used to this kind of place. The path is all bumpy and there are things on it like roots and shit. I used to have no problem with that. Vampires have got great night vision,” he added mournfully.

  Everything was suddenly becoming clear. I’d been right the first time around. I peered at him. “What else have I told you to do?”

  “You said that I have to call you Mack and that I must never leave you no matter what.”

  “What? I didn’t say that!”

  “Yes, you did,” he stated seriously. “You said I had to stay by your side and never leave you again.”

  “I was being fucking sarcastic!”

  He shrugged.

  Sweet Jesus. He’d better bloody hope that I was going to be able to supersede that instruction or I’d probably end up ripping his head from his body. I watched him curiously. He didn’t appear to be unhappy. It was a strange sensation, knowing that I could compel someone to do whatever I instructed. I wondered if it was permanent or whether it would wear off as my blood left Aubrey’s system. It had to be as a result of the amount that he’d taken from me. He’d had a taste months before and clearly hadn’t been following my orders then as he’d done the exact opposite to what I’d wanted him to. That went for Anton also, who’d tasted my blood when we’d fought for Corrigan and the rest of the Brethren back in Cornwall. Just that tiny lick had made Anton practically addicted to my blood however. I hoped that meant that Aubrey wasn’t now the same because, even without him being a vamp, the quantity that he’d drunk could create a need in him that would outweigh almost any other desire.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked carefully.

  He thought for a moment before answering. “No.”

  I eyed him. “Okay then. “ I turned back round and continued heading up the hill, now very aware of him at my back. “Actually, Aubrey, you take the lead.”

  He nodded agreement and then moved in front of me. “I don’t know where to go though.”

  “That’s alright. Just keep going straight and I’ll tell you where to go. Don’t say anything until I tell you to either. I need to listen out in case there’s anything out here.” And I didn’t want to have to listen to him either.

  He complied, continuing up the trail as I followed. It was a rather broad flat hill so the slope was easy to navigate. We picked our way up, somewhat slower now that Aubrey was leading, but making steady progress nonetheless. I tried not to worry too much about what he might end up doing and instead listened out hopefully for any bats. Unfortunately I couldn’t hear or see any. Still, before too long, we emerged out at a decent sized carpark. I knew from my research that towards the east and slightly behind us were the ruins of an old abbey, and that just up ahead was a quarry. This meant that the area Atlanteia was worried about had to be more to the west, where there were areas of dense trees. There were several clearly marked and well labelled paths to follow so, choosing the one that would allow us to cover the largest area, I crooked my finger at Aubrey, gesturing in the direction I wanted to head, and we began to veer left.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what I was expecting to find. Obviously the development hadn’t started yet and it was the middle of the night so there was no-one around to question. I was hoping that the dryads who lived here would make themselves known so that I could ask them a few questions. It was possible that Aubrey’s presence might scare them away of course. As tempting as it was to leave him behind in the car park, in the event that there was something out there he might come in handy. His supernatural vamp strength had no doubt abandoned him, but he had to have some lingering traces of ability that would prove useful.

  We spent thirty minutes or so wandering along, the moon high in the night sky and the stars sharp and clear, before I noticed it. One of the lessons I’d had back at the academy had been in the art of Illusion. The cackling mage who’d been my tutor had found it funny to use her art to hide from me the very building in which the lessons were meant to be held. I’d found it immensely irritating at the time, but it was proving its worth in terms of learning as I now realised that even in the darkness there was something odd flickering at the edge of my vision, alerting me to the fact that some kind of magic had been woven here to conceal something. Feeling immensely satisfied that I’d noticed it, while wondering how on earth mages could be involved in this, I tapped Aubrey on the shoulder, quietly telling him to wait, then backtracked, keeping the flicker within my periphery vision.

  When I was sure I knew where to look, I stopped. The glimmer was right in front of me, indicating that something wasn’t quite right. Slowly, and oh so very carefully, I bent down and picked up a twig, poking at it. There was a quiet whoosh, as if a gust of wind had suddenly announced itself into the silent night air, and then the spell unravelled before my eyes. I heard a gasp from Aubrey further up the path and my mouth dropped open in horror as I registered what had suddenly been revealed.

  Chapter Ten

  The area uncovered by the unmasking of the spell was perhaps only about ten metres squared. The ground was empty and black, as if it had been scorched by fire, and in its centre stood a large tree, completely absent of leaves or any other sign of life. Its branches had a grey brittle appearance, highlighting that it was as completely devoid of life as the earth and the pale figure of the dryad hanging from it. She appeared to be bound there by her wrists, in a pose eerily reminiscent of a crucifixion. I tried to take a step forward, as if to see whether I could still rescue the tragic tree nymph, despite the fact that her shrunken flesh made it clear that she had been there for some time. However there was some kind of invisible barrier in my way, preventing me from moving into the dead space. I pushed forward with every ounce of strength that I could muster, but it was clear that I wouldn’t be able to break through by sheer physical power alone.

  Aubrey moved silently to my side and stared up at the dryad’s body.

  “Any ideas?” I asked.

  He glanced at me mutely. Oh yeah. “You can speak.”

  “It’s so elegant,” he breathed. “This is a masterpiece.”

  I couldn’t help myself. Reaching over, I slapped him hard across the cheek and gave him a disgusted look.

  “Owwww!” He clutched his face with his hands, the wounded expression in his eyes clear even through the darkness. “You don’t have to resort to violence. What did I do?”

  I didn’t know why I’d
ever thought that vamps were smart. I supposed that I’d assumed that living for so long afforded enough life experience to understand at least some of the nuances of polite society. Clearly I’d been completely wrong.

  “One minute you are like a puppy dog at my feet, begging to be brought along and gushing at how wonderful I am,” I spat at him, “not to mention the constant fucking tears, and the next you’re making some kind of sicko comment like that. She’s dead, Aubrey. She died a horrible death and you’re talking about her as if she’s a piece of fucking art.”

  “I was a vampire for a long time, and I was a bloody good vampire too. We’re undead, Mack. I might not kill many people these days but death really is what I know, and I know that whoever did that,” he jerked his head towards the tree, “did it very deliberately and very carefully. Look at the way she’s strung up. You say I’m talking about her as if she’s a work of art, well, that’s artfully done. Bodies are heavy, and not all that easy to manipulate into different positions. She’s hanging there, from those dead branches, by her wrists. There’s nothing holding her up; she’s been arranged that way.” His voice began to rise suddenly. “You’re acting as if I’m more than evil than whoever did that. Bitch!”

  I guessed that angry Aubrey was suddenly making a return. The guy was like Jack the Ripper, a Disney princess and Niagara Falls all combined into one. I felt a flicker of bloodfire. “Go round the back and see if you can get through that way,” I told him. “Keep trying to find a weak spot.”

  He snarled at me in rage but, good little servant that he was, his feet were already moving him away before he could finish. He circled round the edge of the blackened patch and began throwing himself at the edges of the barrier, over and over again. I watched him for a moment, part of me hoping that he’d do himself some permanent damage, and then turned my attention back to the tree.

  I thought about Aubrey’s words and examined the way the dryad had been displayed. He had been kind of right, actually. She was definitely positioned as if to gain maximum effect from a viewing audience. And yet, whoever had done this had then hidden her from sight. What was the point in creating a piece of ‘art’, and then never letting anyone see it? I fervently hoped it wasn’t part of some sick master plan by some nasty Otherworld monster. Atlanteia hadn’t so much as breathed that any dryads had already died as a result of the upcoming development. Unfortunately I now very much doubted that the planned tree clearance had anything to do with some luxury holiday homes. Not unless the target market was psychotic serial killers anyway.