Bloodfire (Blood Destiny) Page 23

I kicked the door again, this time shouting at the top of my lungs. “You wanted me, you bitch! Now I’m here! Come on then!”

  The door gently swung shut as if in answer. I paused for a second, hopeful, but nothing else happened. It must have just been the vibrations from my kick. Well this was just great. Here I was, striding into Iabartu’s home turf, ready to take her on and be the conquering hero and I’d end up having to go back to the portal with my tail between my legs. Except then I realised that the portal was sealed shut again so I couldn’t even do that. I imagined Corrigan, shaking his head at me like I was some sort of naughty petulant child. Shaking the image away, I tried to focus my thoughts. Maybe if I destroyed the door instead, then she would come along to investigate.

  Picking up one of the silver arrows, I took out my bow and strung it, aiming directly at the centre of the door. I held my breath but the arrow just thudded uselessly into it, then bounced back onto the grass. I kicked the door again, pissed off. Then I scooped up the dirk and stabbed viciously at the black shape with all my strength. It didn’t even make a mark, in fact it was the door seemed completely impervious to the weapon. That did not bode well. I tried again. Nope. My fingertips bristled with angry heat and I dropped and punched the door, scraping my knuckles against the smooth impenetrable surface. The resulting pain reminded me that they were already tender from my battle to escape the faerie ring – and gave me an idea. If my blood was strong enough to break through a Fae’s conjured barrier, then surely it could manage this. And even if it didn’t work, I knew at least that Iabartu wanted me, or rather my blood, for whatever nefarious reasons she had cooked up. It could be that she’d sense it once it was spilled on her land.

  I knelt down again and grabbed another tuft of glass sharp grass, wincing again as the blades cut through my skin. Instead of wiping the blood away this time, however, I smeared it onto the door frame and shook a couple of drops onto the ground for further effect. Then I stood back, and watched and waited.

  I wasn’t quite sure what I’d been expecting, but I’d been hoping for something rather dramatic. Wyr blood should surely bubble and hiss against nasty otherworld materials. Instead, however, there was the faint smell of burning, that reminded me of the times when Johannes accidentally set his own hair alight when trying to light the ancient gas stove with a match. Nothing else happened. After a few tense moments, I reached out for the doorknob again and twisted. This time, the whole thing disintegrated in my bloody hands until I was left staring at nothing but the empty valley again. The blue trail still vanished in mid air, at the spot where the door had been.

  Well, great, I thought sarcastically. Now there wasn’t even a door to try to enter; it was just a blank space of air. Some fucking saviour I’d turned out to be. Mack Attack wasn’t going to be very successful if there was nothing around to actually attack in the first place.

  I was so angry with myself that I didn’t notice it at first, but once it got stronger and began tugging at my ponytail I began to realize that something was happening. Where there had only been still air that lay as flat as that of inside a sealed Egyptian mummy’s tomb, now there was wind. And wind that was getting stronger and stronger. It started to whistle around my ears and ripple the cloth of my t-shirt. The black material that I’d been carefully carrying on my shoulder whipped off and danced away, carried on an invisible current. I felt my backpack being lifted up from behind, pulling at my shoulders as if it was being grabbed by an unseen force, a ghostly mugger who wanted all of my worldly possessions. I tried desperately to keep my balance and steady myself, but there was nothing to grab onto and I felt myself falling backwards, landing on the sharp grass and feeling its points pierce into my skin through my clothes.

  At that point a shadow passed over my face. I shielded my eyes from the bright sun and looked up, trying to make it what it was. It was moving at an unbelievable speed, getting larger by the second, cartwheeling and spinning through the sky. I tried in vain to scramble at my feet, but the gale around was too strong. It felt as if I was being pinned to the earth. All I could do was watch. There was a roaring thunder in my ears and, oddly, I thought again of Corrigan’s loud animalistic ire as I’d escaped into the portal. He didn’t matter now though, nothing mattered now. My time was up.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  The swooping shape drew nearer and nearer. Despite the situation, I vaguely admired the elegance of the flight. She landed a few feet away from me, causing ripples of tremors to shake beneath me. At least the wind died down though, and the atmosphere returned to the heavy oppressive stillness from before.

  As soon as I was able, I sprang to my feet. Belatedly it occurred to me that I’d dropped the bow after I’d tried to shoot the door, and that no doubt it had been carried away in the hurricane. Fortunately I’d had enough sense left in me to hook the dirk through one of the belt holes at the top of my jeans, where it was still secure. I pulled it out and held it in front of me, prepared to take action.

  Iabartu stood relaxed in front of me, examining her fingernails, as if she needed to make an emergency appointment with her manicurist. She was the same height as Alex’s scrying had intimated and she was indeed floating just a few inches off the ground, as she had been when she had brutally attacked John. A sudden image of his corpse flashed through my mind and I felt the returning flash of fire. I shifted my weight and took a step forward. I was going to everything I could to destroy her.

  “Bitch,” I muttered, without even realising it.

  Her white eyes lifted up to mine. And they actually were white - she had dark pinpricks of pupils, but absolutely no irises. The effect was extraordinarily unsettling. Despite the shudder of revulsion her gaze caused in me, it occurred to me that she looked rather bored of me already.

  “What’s your point?” Her voice was quiet and yet icily hard.

  I swallowed and then steeled myself. She might be ice but I was all fire. I ignored her question. “I believe that you have been looking for me.” I impressed myself by keeping my voice steady.

  Iabartu arched a thin eyebrow at me. “Why, yes, little dragon, I have.”

  “You may be rather disappointed,” I countered, “I am more human than Wyr.”

  She hissed, unexpectedly. “That is…unfortunate. But not disastrous or unexpected. It is your human nature that I knew would mean you would come looking for me if I pushed hard enough. Why do you think I left the portal open? Or the cloth for you to track? Your kind are so very sentimental and weak.”

  “You murdered my alpha,” I spat.

  A glimmer of a smile flickered over her bow-shaped lips. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” She laughed musically, and the sound grated through every inch of my soul, fanning my flames further. “Just think how much anguish he could have spared you if he’d only given you up at the beginning. Because, like I told him, the end result is still the same. I will drain you dry of every drop of fiery blood until all that is left is an empty husk.” She laughed again, but this time the sound was colder.

  “Why?” I bit out. “What makes my blood so special to you?”

  “Oh little human Wyr, I could use it in ways that you can only dream of. You see, like you, I’m just a half-breed. Half a goddess.” Her eyes gleamed. “A fantastically powerful one, but still there are those who seek to bring me down because I am not as pure as they would wish. Your blood will help me destroy them into dust. Just a few carefully placed drops mixed into their mead and they’ll be mine to control.” She laughed coldly, but I noticed that her fists were clenched.

  “If you’d just asked,” I commented, “I’d give you a few drops.”

  The expression on her face was scornful. “And let you loose for someone else to use? I don’t think so. Besides,” she flipped her hair self-consciously, “I need a constant supply. Your blood has certain…addictive qualities that makes it so useful. There’s no point in establishing the need, the desire for it, in one of my foes, and then not being able to control that supply.” Licking
her lips in a way that made me shudder, she added, “I need it all.”

  I felt a cold shiver run through me at her words, despite the churning bloodfire that was champing to be let loose. Part of me had hoped that I’d been wrong, that it hadn’t been me that she’d been after – and that it hadn’t been me who John had died protecting. I didn’t really care what she did to her enemies on this plane but I was damned if I was going to let her use part of me to help her continue her terror campaign. And I would have my revenge for John, Julia and all the others.

  “Over my dead body,” I growled.

  She raised a shoulder, shrugging lightly. “Suits me. There are plenty of ways to kill your mind but keep your physical body alive.” And with that she lunged forward, trying to grab hold of me.

  I dodged, only just managing to escape her grasping hands, and turned on my heel, facing her again. I watched her stance carefully, taking note of the shifts in her muscles, trying to gauge where she would move next. I wasn’t going to try to strike her with the dirk until I could be sure of making contact.

  She looked amused. “Oh, little dragon, this is going to be more fun than I thought.” She shot up into the sky and disappeared.

  I whirled, squinting up above me, trying desperately to work out where she had gone. A faint whistling came sneaking into my left ear and my grip on the dirk tightened. Suddenly, I felt a huge force cuff me on the side of my head. I went flying into the sharp grass feeling its blades rip into the skin on my face and arm.

  She stood over me again, laughter pealing out. “Don’t bleed too much, remember I need all that.”

  From the ground I kicked out at her leg, connecting with her flesh. She howled in surprise and somersaulted backwards. I sprang up and leapt forward, lashing out with the blade. I felt the satisfying moment when the dirk scratched into her clothing.

  “So,” she hissed, “the little human can use silver. I’m not one of your shifters, however. I am a god. It won’t hurt me.”

  “Oh, but you’re just a demi-god, Iabartu, otherwise you wouldn’t need me. And when I stick this into your heart, it will hurt you. A lot.”

  I was more confident now. She wasn’t entirely invulnerable and now I knew that I could reach her. This was not going to be impossible. I ran at her, dirk in front of me, ready to slice her and make her bleed. This time, however, she skirted right into the air before clawing her taloned fingernails at me. They connected with my cheek and drew blood. Iabartu paused, hovering in midair, and examined the little red drops on the tips of her fingers, a fascinated expression on her face.

  “I can feel the fire from here,” she murmured.

  “Then feel this,” I spat and attacked again, stabbing at her as the flames inside me roared in approval. The silver sank into her arm before she could pull away, and a dark liquid welled up around it. I managed to keep a firm grip on the hilt and held onto my now only workable weapon whilst Iabartu pulled back sharply. My slice didn’t quite have the devastating effect that I’d been hoping for but at least I got a reaction as her face twisted briefly in pain.

  “Enough!” She snapped her fingers and, almost immediately, I heard a quiet rumble in the distance, getting gradually louder as whatever it belonged to drew nearer.

  “Afraid you can’t beat me on your own, bitch? I might have figured that you’d call someone else in to do your dirty work. Clearly, a half breed like you doesn’t have much power of your own.” I hoped that I could taunt her into making a mistake but Iabartu had too much ice running through her veins for that just yet.

  “You’re a half-breed too, human. I notice you don’t have anyone rushing to your aid.” She swung backwards and out of my reach.

  “Because I don’t need help to kill you,” I retorted loudly. Just as I’d tried to encourage her temper to get the better of her, now she was obviously trying it with me. Of course, my temper was often my best weapon – Iabartu didn’t need to know that though.

  The sound of whatever she’d summoned was getting almost unbearably loud. With half an eye on Iabartu, who was now floating at the edge of the valley, I turned slightly to meet whatever was coming. Whatever it was, it was huge. And it looked disturbingly familiar.

  Iabartu let out a silvery giggle that made shivers run down my spine. “You have already met, I believe? I think that my little friend is anxious for a re-match. After all, you attacked him entirely without provocation the last time.”

  The ispolin’s shape drew closer. “He invaded our territory,” I growled.

  “For all you know he was popping round to borrow a cup of sugar before you so mercilessly and viciously pounced on him.”

  I felt an irritating twinge of guilt. She did actually have a point – not about the sugar of course, but about fighting first and asking questions later. But he’d killed that Brethren guy and maimed Lucy. And if he’d reached Trevathorn, god only knows what might have happened. It was the pack’s job to keep Cornwall safe from the big bad. The ispolin was certainly both of those.

  Iabartu laughed at me again. “That, my dear, is why you’ll never be as powerful as me. Why that blood is wasted on you. You’d actually feel bad for giving him a booboo.”

  I scowled, annoyed that I was so transparent, and struggling to keep my fire in check for at least the time being. “On the contrary, it’s what makes me better than you. But if that thing gets in my way, then I’ll mow him down. It’s you I’m here for.”

  I’d barely finished my sentence when the ispolin howled in rage and began to charge. Iabartu leapt up into the sky. “Lucky me, I get a ringside seat,” she called down. “Don’t kill her just yet though, I need her heart pumping when I drain her blood.”

  I ignored her pointed order to the beast and tensed. It was clearly still bearing the scars and wounds from our encounter on the beach and was looking for a little payback. I understood that, but there was no way I was going to let it prevent me from doing all I could to get my own payback from Iabartu. An image of Lucy’s limping form flashed into my head, along with Thomson’s broken body. I might not have liked the guy but he was a shifter which made him part of me and mine. This wouldn’t be so hard on my conscience after all. I released some of the heat I’d been keeping such a tight hold onto and looked straight into its one great eye. Bring it on.

  The ispolin came close enough to me that I could see its hairy nostrils flaring. A trickle of dark green snot made its way down its face, making me wonder if the slime that Nick had found had Perkins had just been the remnants of a giant monster sneeze. The heaving nostrils did remind me of a Spanish bull, however, which gave an idea. I watched it carefully, waiting for it to make the first move. Its muscles rippled and its whole body shifted almost imperceptibly to the left. I sprang right, just in time to miss its barreling shape, and turned to face it again. Without pausing, it rammed its way towards me again, head down and lethal horns leading. For the second time, I managed to jump out of the way. I could sense Iabartu watching impatiently from the air and I took a moment to sketch a bow in the air, almost imagining myself as a bullfighter on a sandy ring. The ispolin pawed the ground and blinked furiously then rushed me again. I skipped out of the way but this time it was expecting it and threw out a fist to cuff me. It connected – barely – but the force was enough to send me spinning to the ground. I jumped up quickly, not before I felt a thousand blades of glass sharp grass cut into my skin all over again, whilst trying to ignore the sudden sensation of vertigo that the ispolin’s blow had created in my skull.

  My gaze fell on the black cloth that was lying on the ground behind it. Well, in the absence of red, I supposed that black would be just as good. This time, when it lunged at me again, I ran at it too, then dove headfirst between its legs, noting that its feet hygiene hadn’t improved since the last time, and whipped up the piece of material. As I rolled beneath its groin, I also noticed that dangling from its waist was an oddly mechanical looking object. Huh. So that was where the electric screwdriver had ended up. Part of my brain
tried to work through what on earth a one-eyed otherworldly monster would want with home DIY but before I could come up with a reasonable answer I was back on my feet facing the ispolin and holding the black cloth in front of me.

  I dangled it to my side, daring the monster to come at me again. I hadn’t counted on the blue trail that still snaked its way from it – this time up to the sky to where Iabaru hovered. As I’d picked the cloth up, the smoke had moved with it. The ispolin’s huge eye was caught by it, almost entirely mesmerised. I hadn’t expected it, but it’d work. I threw myself at the monster in a blur, aiming my dirk for one of the gashes on its side from earlier. The silver blade entered the its tough flesh with surprising ease and began to smoke. The sickening smell of burnt flesh rose in the air. It fell to the ground, clutching the wound as I sprang back and watched warily. The same cutting grass that had bothered me earlier, now bothered the ispolin more, and it howled again, deafeningly. This time it was in pain and not rage however. It rolled over and only succeeded in cutting its hide even more. This would be a handy time to have some blackberry bushes around for it to roll into, assuming that Alex’s theory had been accurate.

  Its huge arms flailed around in the air and it kept rolling on the ground. I gripped the dirk and was about to attack again when Iabartu materialized at it its head and sank one long taloned nail straight into its one eye, piercing it like a balloon. The ispolin shuddered and went still.

  Iabartu looked at me and shrugged implacably. “If you want a job doing, then you have to do it yourself,” she murmured softly.

  Without thinking, I threw the dirk straight at her throat. She was too quick, however, and blocked it, sending the whole blade spinning uselessly behind me and far out of my reach. “Now what are you going to do little human?”

  Good question. I reached inside myself and unleashed the full force of my bloodfire. This time there would be no holding back. It felt like my insides were boiling but I relished the feeling and allowed it to take over in a way I never had before. My shoulders straightened and I met her gaze full on. She opened her mouth to speak but my flames wouldn’t let her even start her sentence. The time for talking was over. Now I needed my revenge and to do what I could to let John rest in true peace. I attacked.