Blood Politics (Blood Destiny 4) Read online

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. Her skin still had a remarkably green tinge to it. “Okay. But stay here with Aubrey anyway.”

  “How come you’re so nice to her and so nasty to me?” whined the ex-vamp.

  “Because I like her.”

  Aubrey’s bottom lip started to quiver, and his eyes became glassy. A loud sob escaped him. Both the mages and Lucy stared at him in abject astonishment.

  I shrugged, trying not to feel too guilty. “Hey, you asked. And I told you not to cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” he gulped. At least I thought that was what he said; to be honest, it was difficult to tell through his current wave of unhappy emotion. I decided the best thing would be to leave him alone.

  “Here,” I said, passing him over my plastic bag. “I’m trusting you to look after this, Aubrey. “

  He blinked, one hand lifting up the brim of his ridiculous purple affront to the art of millinery so he could peer at me. “Why?”

  “Because I think you’ll do a great job of taking care of it and I need to go and make sure there’s nothing else lurking in these woods.”

  Almost to a man, my motley crew of unwelcome companions stiffened. “You are not going anywhere on your own,” huffed Max. Larkin nodded vigorously in agreement.

  “You have no idea what’s out there, Mack,” agreed Lucy. “I can’t let you do this.”

  I growled at them and, just for a moment, opened myself up to my bloodfire, allowing the Draco Wyr spirit to flood through me. I couldn’t do it for too long – I was too afraid about what might happen if I did – but there was no way I was going to stand here arguing about what I was or wasn’t going to do. A dulled roaring filled my ears and I felt my heart pound, once, twice. Then, almost as soon as it had happened, I yanked the feeling away, and looked round at them all.

  There was a deafening silence that was finally broken by Aubrey. “I’m starting to think that maybe I was lucky that you were on drugs on Hampstead Heath, even if it did this to me.” He motioned down at his human body.

  The others flicked startled glances at him.

  “Are we all agreed then?”

  They nodded.

  “Fanfuckingtastic,” I said, tiredly, and turned away from the group.

  I could feel their wary eyes on me the entire time I was walking away. It occurred to me that whatever they’d seen when I’d let the bloodfire take me over had terrified the bejesus out of them. It terrified the bejesus out of me. There was no way I was going to let them know that though.

  I wended my way across the path and into the trees. Everything appeared somehow different now it was daylight. The entire area was still unnaturally silent, with only the very odd call of a bird breaking the air, but everything felt less ominous than it had the night before. The power of sunlight, I figured. It was a shame that Aubrey hadn’t yet come round to the joy of being out in the daytime. I wondered idly if he ever would.

  Something caught my attention on a nearby tree. There was a branch that had clearly been slightly disturbed and looked out of place, as if someone had grabbed onto it. Heart in my mouth, I carefully picked my way over to it, trying to stay as quiet as I possibly could. I realised as soon as I reached it, however, that it was the tree I’d thought to conceal myself in the night before. There was nothing else there.

  Cursing to myself, I moved deeper into the undergrowth. There were simply no signs of any other disturbance anywhere. The utter lack of any trace of anything was worrying. This was meant to be a popular tourist spot. The whole area, apart from the obviously scorched part with the dead dryad, seemed as if it had remained untouched for years. That did not compute. I considered briefly whether it would be worth tracking back and up, to see if I could find the clearing again and talk to the dryad from the night before. If this Batibat was living around here too, it seemed impossible that they wouldn’t have bumped into each other. However, even given the entire race of dryads’ apparent propensity for not telling the whole truth, it seemed ridiculous that she wouldn’t have mentioned it already if she’d known. The Batibat was somehow tied up in the murder and Atlanteia had asked me here to essentially stop any more such murders from taking place. Withholding that potentially vital piece of information was pointless.

  I continued forward, scanning the ground, the bushes, the trees, everything, for any sign of anything. I was drawing a complete blank, however. A thought struck me, and I moved away from the trees and back towards the ward, heading for the area where Aubrey had been lying when the Batibat had apparently sat on him. Even before I got there, it was clear to see the evidence of his movements. The grass was flattened, indicating where he’d fallen over, not just once, but several times. I knelt down, focusing on what the ground was telling me. All around the barrier of the ward were the traces of his attempts to smash through it. Al I needed to do was to find traces that didn’t belong to him. It didn’t take long.

  To the left of where he’d fallen there were enough heavily bent stalks of grass, in a different formation to those already created by Aubrey himself, to indicate where the Batibat had been. I was no forensic environmentalist, but I’d spent enough time growing up around the woods of Cornwall to have some basic tracking techniques. And what they were telling me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was the Batibat had come at Aubrey from within the ward. There was no sign of any tracks left within the burnt ground inside, but there was just enough on the outside to make it clear what had happened. He’d been attacking the barrier, and probably falling over idiotically as he did so, and the Batibat had emerged from the dead tree inside to teach him a lesson.

  I shaded my eyes and stared at the dead grey branches. There was nothing to see other than the back of the forlorn figure of the dryad, visible through the twisted cluster of dead wood. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anything hiding there right now, camouflaged by some form of woody magic. If dryads could keep themselves hidden whenever they wanted to and from whomever they wanted to, I was pretty damned sure that a Batibat would be able to do the same. And that meant that the only thing left was to break the ward.

  I looked across at the small group on the other side. Larkin and Max appeared to be doing what I’d asked, as Max was testing the edges of the ward to check whether there was any intrinsic magical alarm system built in and Larkin was trying – and failing – to cast an appropriate Divination spell. Every time he flicked his fingers forward, a puff of blue light appeared and then vanished. So much for tracking the Batibat by magic then. Aubrey was clutching my plastic bag for dear life, watching me carefully from across the expanse, and Lucy was on the ground, with her back to me, hugging her knees. I had my doubts as to whether I could protect any of them in the event that I managed to breach the ward and confront the tree daemon. I really had no idea about its capabilities. I was going to have to face it before night fell, however. I stared again at the dead tree. Perhaps there was a way to get inside without breaking the ward.

  Casting around the ground for a few moments, I quickly found what I was looking for. There was a clump of pink shale half concealed by one of the tufts of grass, and I bent down to pick a piece up. I tested the edge, deciding that it would work, and then opened up my fingers and drew the stone across my palm, watching the thin red line of blood that sprang up in its place. Then I knelt down again and rubbed my hand on the ground.

  I only had to wait a moment or two before the air started to crackle and shimmer purple and the figure of Solus appeared, an angry grimace marring his features.

  He sprang towards me, pulling my body towards his, and hissing in my ear. “Where is it?”

  I stayed calm. “Where’s what, Solus?”

  “The thing that attacked you. You’re bleeding. Tell me where it is.”

  I was touched by the ire in his voice. “Sorry. Nothing attacked me. I just needed to talk to you.”

  He released me abruptly, spinning me round to face him. “Dragonlette, you are trying my patience. You could have just called.” His
violet eyes shot sparks at me, but I could tell from the way his muscles had immediately relaxed that it was more for show.

  “Sorry,” I said, although I wasn’t really. “But I need you now, not in three days’ time when you bother to answer me.”

  He clasped his heart in mock agony. “You wound me.” He leaned in towards me. “I was busy annoying your brawny Brethren Lord.”

  Uh-oh. “Bloody hell, Solus, is that really necessary?”

  “Not in the slightest,” he grinned at me insouciantly. “But it’s a hell of a lot of fun. The Furry One doesn’t like me very much.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” I murmured, eyeing him unhappily.

  The Fae arched an eyebrow and watched me carefully. “Have you read the translation yet?”

  “Been kind of busy to be honest. It’s back at home.”

  He grinned. There was an edge to it that both surprised and concerned me. “Interesting,” he said, with a suspicious note of underlying glee, “be sure to let me know when you do.”

  I filed away his on-going interest in my reading of the translated Fae book for later. There were more pressing concerns to deal with right now. I gestured towards the centre of ward instead. “Can you transport me inside that?”

  Solus turned at stared at it, his skin visibly paling as he did so. “That’s a dryad.”

  I nodded. His fists clenched, and a ripple of fury shuddered through him. I swallowed involuntarily. I’d never seen him this upset before. He reached out and touched the ward, then drew it back again.

  “You don’t know what could be in there. Just because it looks empty, doesn’t mean it is.” His voice remained curiously emotionless and flat, which was almost more scary than if he’d allowed himself to show what he was really thinking.

  “It’s not empty.” I outlined for him my theory about the Batibat.

  He shook his head. “Except Batibats wouldn’t attack dryads and certainly not like that. They prefer young men.”

  “Let me guess,” I said drily, “you’re an expert on Indonesian daemons along with everyone else.”

  He sent me a puzzled look. “It’s common knowledge, dragonlette.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course it was. “I don’t need you to spell out the dangers for me, Solus, I just need you to get me inside.”

  “I’m not sure I can. Even if I managed it, it would drain me of all my energy and then I wouldn’t be able to help you if things went wrong.”

  “I think I’m capable of looking after myself,” I scoffed.

  “You let a vampire get the better of you barely two days ago.”

  “It was one.”

  “Eh?”

  “It was one vampire. And if you look closely, you’ll see that he’s not doing so well as a result.”

  Solus looked understandably confused. I gently pointed out Aubrey’s figure to him. Even with the hat and trenchcoat, his features were obvious. The Fae’s mouth dropped open. “Is that…?”

  “Yup.”

  “He’s a master vampire, dragonlette. One of the strongest. What in the hell…” Dawning realisation lit his features. “He drank your blood.”

  I nodded.

  “And because your blood has the power to heal, it healed him. He’s no longer a vampire.”

  “Yup.”

  “Bloody hell, dragonlette, do you realise that this makes you number one on the vamps’ hitlist? They’ll do anything either to control you or destroy you. That’s unbelievable power. How many people has he told?”

  I shrugged. “None. He’s afraid of what the others’ll do to him if they find out.”

  Solus blinked slowly. “Of course. A cured vampire is the antithesis of everything they believe in.” He smiled, and it wasn’t very pleasant. “How very interesting.”

  “Solus?”

  “Hmmm?” He was still watching Aubrey with a worryingly predatorial expression flickering through his eyes.

  “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Solus, I mean it. He was a horrible vampire. And right now he’s a horrible human. But he has a chance to maybe turn things around and be a better person. You are not going to fuck that up.”

  “Dragonlette,” he began.

  I looked him in the eyes. “Don’t.”

  “Okay.”

  “Give me your word, Solus.”

  “Okay.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He lifted his hands up in the air. “Fine! I give you my word.”

  “Excellent. Now, get me in there.”

  “It’s not a good idea, dragonlette.”

  “Please.”

  “If I do this, then in return you need to do me a favour.”

  Of course. Why would I have expected anything less? “What?” I said, exasperated.

  “I don’t know yet. But,” he held up one long elegant index finger, “you will owe me one favour of my choosing to be fulfilled when I require it.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Fine. But no giving away of my firstborn or secondborn or anything like that. No hurting of anyone, physically or emotionally. “

  He winked at me. “What if it’s an evil tree daemon?”

  I gave him my death stare.

  “Okay, okay, nothing that involves children or hurting things, I promise.” He gave me a cheeky boyish grin. “As if I would anyway, dragonlette.”

  I really hoped I wasn’t going to regret this. Solus snapped his fingers and the air immediately began to flicker purple. “Give that bitch hell,” he said, suddenly all serious again.

  I nodded. I intended to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The molecules in the air snapped and bit. As soon as I registered the purple shimmer, I stepped forward, not hesitating further. I was too nervous to delay further. Whatever had done that terrible thing to the dryad was not the kind of being that I should take lightly.

  Transporting through felt different to how it usually did. Clearly the ward was going to make things as difficult as possible, and it created the effect of feeling as if my body was being rent asunder. The world outside the barrier pulled at me, as if, with a magnetic urge, it was demanding my physical presence remain there. I couldn’t see what was happening to Solus, but I heard his cry of pain as I wrenched myself through, then collapsed panting, with pricks of tears forming in my eyes. My stomach lurched with devastating nausea, even worse than I normally experienced. I tried to force myself to face the tree, just in case my arrival had woken the Batibat from her sleep and she was already on her way to meet me, but the retching overtook me. My fingernails stabbed into the blackened ground, clawing in agony as my once pleasant breakfast deposited itself unceremoniously in front of me. I was dimly aware of the blur of frantic gestures from my little band of followers on the other side, but the effort to raise my head and acknowledge them to reassure them that I was alright was almost too much.

  When the convulsions finally stopped, I collapsed, my cheek hot against the soot. I gasped for air several times, and had to force myself to take in deep heaving breaths to calm myself down. Eventually I was able to scramble back to my feet, where I stood trembling. I looked behind and saw Solus down on the ground. Lucy had managed to get round and was by his side, her hand on his arm. She mouthed something to me, but I couldn’t work out what it was.

  “Is he okay?” I shouted over.

  She looked puzzled and mouthed something again. Shit. Clearly the ward blocked out sound too. I pointed down at Solus to highlight my worry and concern. She blinked in sudden understanding, and nodded back, this time enunciating her words more obviously, stating what appeared to be ‘he’s fine’. I watched him carefully, relief flooding through me when he stirred and slowly sat back up. He pushed his hair away from his face and grinned boyishly. I rolled my eyes. Idiot. Then, however, his gaze fixed on something behind me and his pupils narrowed to tiny sharp pinpricks of glass. Lucy too was now frozen and staring beyond me. I guessed the Batibat was finally awake.

  I concentrated on my
hands, allowing my now familiar green fire to light up and flicker, then I slowly turned, every sinew of my body ready to launch myself at the she-daemon.

  Aubrey had been right. The Batibat, standing heavily in front of the dead tree, and thankfully blocking the dryad from my sight, was indeed hideous. She was morbidly obese, virtually the width of a small car, with folds of greyish fat and loose skin hanging down from every rounded corner of her body. Her breasts were drooping enough to hit the centre of her stomach, and her dirty blonde hair was scraggly and limp. My mouth dried, but I forced myself to lift my eyes up to hers.

  She looked down at my hands then back up to my face, with a complete lack of expression. For once in my life, I had absolutely no idea what my opponent was about to do.

  I tilted my chin up. “Hello.”

  The Batibat stared back at me, without so much as blinking.

  I tried smiling. It didn’t reach my eyes, and I was well aware that I had the habit of looking like a maniacal psychopath when that happened, but I wasn’t quite sure what else to do. She still just stared at me.

  Okaaaaay. I took a step forward. She didn’t move. I kept my arms by my sides, trying to show that I wasn’t going to attack her unless she struck out at me first, but I didn’t extinguish my flames, making sure that she knew that I was also more than ready to take her on if I had to. It occurred to me that maybe I should have thought this whole operation through in a little more depth first.

  Just when I was starting to wonder if the Batibat was completely immobile, she suddenly let out a huge shuddering sigh, and turned her back on me, lumbering back to the tree that was just a few feet away.

  “Hey!” I shouted out towards her, suddenly alarmed. The last thing I needed was for her to get back within the branches and completely conceal herself again. At least right now I knew where she was. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I want to talk to you!”

  She completely ignored me, continuing her shambling return to the tree. I so wasn’t in the mood for this. I outstretched my arm and extended my index finger to just beyond her body, zapping the ground with a line of green fire. Thanks to the already heavily burnt earth, however, my efforts immediately sizzled away into nothing. The Batibat didn’t even react, hooking one hand into one of the lower branches, and swinging herself up with a dexterity that astonished me. She clearly possessed some kind of affinity with trees, not least because the branches that looked dead enough to snap the second so much as a whisper of a breeze gusted by them, easily held her weight. Before I could so much as blink, she had completely vanished.