The Sweet Scent of Blood

Chapter Three

I sat across from Holly and waited while she wiped her tears. She was a faeling, part fae, part human. I couldn’t tell what type of fae blood she carried, but her ancestry was evident in her delicate, angular bone structure as well as her teeth.

She hiccoughed, then ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. As she did heart-shaped earrings flashed like blue stars against the black.

‘You might as well give in,’ I said. ‘She’s not going to stop until you do.’

Holly pouted as she draped her hair over one shoulder. She tucked a strand in the corner of her mouth and muttered, ‘She thinks I’m still ten or something.’

‘Uh-huh.’ I smiled, encouraging confidences.

‘Just because I want to go out with my friends, she gets all het up about it.’

‘It’s not your friends she’s worried about.’

Holly glanced at her wrist and shuddered.

‘Pretty earrings,’ I said.

Her hand half-lifted to her left ear and a wary look flickered across her face.

‘I’ve never been to the Blue Heart,’ I said. ‘Is it any good?’

‘S’okay.’ Only she didn’t sound too sure.

‘Just okay?’ I smiled again. ‘I thought it was supposed to be the cool place.’

‘It was pretty cool.’

‘But not all of it?’

Holly lifted her feet onto the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs. ‘Trace and Lorraine thought it was cool.’ She rested her chin on her knees, looked at me with disappointed green eyes and held out her wrist. ‘Only it hurt when he bit me. It’s not supposed to hurt, is it? It didn’t hurt Trace and Lor.’

A crash sounded from the kitchen and Holly flinched. Voices rose and fell like angry waves after the brief silence.

I took her hand in mine and rotated her wrist. Two neat holes an inch apart were just about healed over. ‘The vampire tricked their minds, made them think it felt nice. Not many of them can do that to you, because you’re faeling.’

She frowned. ‘He said it was because he wasn’t a very old vampire.’ She drew her wrist back and plucked at a thread hanging from her skirt. ‘He was nice, he stopped as soon as it hurt. Only’—a tear spilled down her cheek—‘I’ve been feeling tired and a bit dizzy, and having bad dreams.’

Other than the bad dreams, it sounded like post-bite anaemia, but just the neat fang marks on her wrist wouldn’t have caused that.

‘You need to show me the other bites, Holly.’

Surprise crossed her face and her chin trembled. Then she pushed aside her shirt collar, angling her head away, displaying two more fang marks puncturing the curve between her neck and her shoulder.

‘And that’s all, just two bites?’

‘Yes.’ But as she spoke, she glanced down and I knew she wasn’t telling me everything.

‘Holly, if you want me to tell Aggie everything’s okay, you need to show me all the bites.’ I bent and peered into her face. ‘I won’t tell her where they are, okay?’

The metallic bangs and crashes echoing around the kitchen sounded like a dwarf workshop had taken up residence. What was Finn trying to do? Wreck the place?

Holly squirmed, then unbuttoned her blouse.

The vampire had sunk his teeth into the swell of her breasts, just above the lace edge of her bra, and he hadn’t been nearly as neat or careful here. Two bites marked her left breast, the holes puckered, skin white and crinkly where he had fed for some time. He’d made a real mess of her right breast. Half-healed inch-long scabs and mottled bruises showed where his fangs had scored through her flesh ... almost as if the vamp had been ripped away from her.

I ignored the throb that leapt into life at the back of my own neck. Bastard sucker. All I said was, ‘Ouch, that must’ve hurt too.’

Holly looked down at herself. ‘Only a little. I felt sorta weird and fuzzy by then.’

At least the bites looked like sucker bites. The vamp had fed, but hadn’t tried infecting her. Of course, 3V—Vampire Venom and Virus Infection—isn’t the big bad any more; treatment’s been available for the past twenty-odd years. And there was that BBC ‘Bat on The Wall’ documentary a couple of years ago, with its backdoor propaganda that 3V could be the modern elixir of youth and health. The internet hyped the ‘benefits’ like a particularly virulent game of cyber whispers. Now 3V is actually considered desirable by some, so much so that the public don’t want to know that the majority of infected ‘human companions’—the current PC label for a vampire’s blood-slave or blood-pet, don’t live long and healthy lives as advertised, but end up as short-lived ‘disposables’ in some blood-pub in Sucker Town.

All they’re interested in is the Gift.

According to myth, the original Gift was the Gorgon’s blood, given by Athena to Asclepius, the Greek god of healing, to help him in his work. Then Asclepius started raising people from the dead, and Zeus took exception, as überGods do, and killed him with a thunderbolt. The sun god Apollo, Asclepius’s dad, wasn’t too happy either, and he set about rectifying his son’s mistakes by burning the undead to a crisp whenever he could find them. Even so, most feel that drinking blood, staying out of storms and doing without the suntan are easy enough sacrifices to make if it means they might hit the immortality jackpot in the game of vampire roulette.

But neither the government, nor the witches, nor—especially—the vampire hierarchy want the place overrun with baby blood-suckers, so the Gift is strictly controlled. It means the tourist clubs are safe enough: after all, when the punters are not just paying but queuing for the privilege of being the plat du jour, there’s no need to turn your victims into venom junkies to ensure your next meal. All it takes is some mental sleight of hand, or mesma, to convince the customers they’re getting what they want. After all, anything else would be bad for business.

Only Holly was a faeling, and fae blood, even diluted with human, is a sought-after commodity within the vampire world. I needed to be sure she wasn’t infected.

‘Holly, you’ve heard of 3V, haven’t you?’

She pulled out a leaflet hidden under a magazine on the table. ‘I checked the bites against the photos in the HOPE leaflet.’ She opened the leaflet and showed me the pictures. ‘See, two holes is okay, you only have to worry about infection if there’s four holes, two tiny extra ones in between. That’s what it looks like if they bite you with their retractable fangs as well.’ She briefly touched the bruises on her breast. ‘All of us, we’ve only got two fang marks. Trace got a magnifying glass out and we checked each other out to make sure,’ she finished in a disappointed tone.

‘That’s great, then,’ I said eyes wide to keep the bemused look from my face. ‘Nothing to worry about: the bites are healing and once you make up the blood loss, the dizziness should stop and you’ll feel better.’

She held out her wrist again with an anxious expression. ‘But what about this one?’

The kitchen produced a hissing noise that sounded like a steam-dragon running riot and Finn’s curse sounded distinctly frustrated.

I frowned at the neat bite. ‘It’s fine, better than the others. Should be gone in a couple of days.’

She leaned forward and whispered, ‘But he did them, y’know, the vampire that’s been in all the papers. The one that—the one that killed his girlfriend.’

‘Roberto? You mean Mr October?’

She gave a tiny nod. ‘Aggie’s worried because they’ve arrested him. The papers say all it took was one bite, and she thinks—Am I going to die too?’ Her voice rose, shrill with panic.

I began mentally revising my offer to help the bastard. ‘Did he do all the bites?’

‘Oh no, I told you, Roberto was really nice. This French vamp, Louis, did the others.’ She touched her bruises again. ‘Roberto shouted at him and dragged him away. Trace said they both looked really mad.’ She tossed her hair back. ‘Roberto bought us all those fruit cocktails, the special ones they do, and made sure we got a taxi home.’ Her face fell. ‘Do you think I’m going to die like his girlfriend?’

‘Genny?’

I looked up as Finn appeared in the doorway. Holly squeaked, clutching her blouse to hold it together.

‘Sorry, ladies, I’ll wait outside.’ Finn held his hands up in apology and grinned, then sent me a questioning look. ‘I could do with some help out here, Gen, when you’re ready.’

‘Okay. I’ll be with you in a sec.’ I turned back to Holly and lowered my voice. ‘Listen, one bite from Roberto won’t kill you. You mustn’t believe everything the papers say. But keep away from the vampires.’ I leaned forward. ‘Vamps think our fae blood tastes nicer, sweeter, than plain human blood, and some of them won’t take no for an answer. I’d stick to going out with humans or fae if I were you. It’s less dangerous.’

Holly sighed. ‘He—Louis—said I tasted like cherries. He said he liked me best of all.’ She bit her lip. ‘Human boys don’t always—My teeth scare them, or if I like them, they end up ... y’know, Glamoured.’

I knew exactly how she felt. Rocks and hard places had nothing on dating humans if you were a fae or even a faeling with a touch of power.

‘Listen, Holly, the bites are fine. You’re not going to die. I’ll tell Aggie.’ I dug a card out of my bag. ‘And if you want to talk or anything, just give me a ring, okay?’

I left her chewing a curl of hair and went to find Finn.

He leant against the wall outside the staffroom, hands in his pockets and a disgruntled expression on his face. ‘I tried to talk Agatha into clearing up the mess, but she says she’s too low on juice to do anything.’

I grinned. ‘Feeling stressed, are we?’

‘She’s got her wretched spell-traps everywhere,’ he groaned, ‘and every time I try to crack one, something else breaks.’

‘Uh-huh,’ I said sweetly, ‘that’s what happens when you go too fast.’

‘Yeah, touché, Gen.’ He pushed away from the wall and slung an arm around my shoulder. ‘It’s gonna take ages to unravel all the spells. Mr Manager is as grumpy as a blingless goblin.’ His voice took on a cajoling tone. ‘Don’t suppose you could do something, could you?’

‘Maybe.’ I sighed, thinking about gift-horses bearing crystals. ‘But only if you stop using my shoulder as an arm-rest.’

‘Whatever my Lady’s heart desires.’ He gave me a quick hug, then opened his arms wide, a lazy grin twitching the corners of his mouth.

I rolled my eyes at him. Damn. I so knew I was going to regret this—give in once to him, even if it was over something as simple as work—and the next thing I’d find myself sitting in a painful heap at the bottom of the slippery slope.

And if I was going to clear up all the spells in one go, I needed to find them. There were only a couple of lights on in the kitchen but I turned them off so that the only illumination came from the red electronic numbers that blinked on some of the equipment. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and focused.

Shit. There was more magic than I thought. Way, waaay more.

Opening my eyes confirmed it. The room popped and seethed with pulsing fluorescence like a volcanic swamp covered in fireflies. My heart leapt, apprehension warring with anticipation. No wonder Finn had been having so much trouble cracking the stuff. Agatha must have gathered every ounce of her anger, frustration and fear for this many spells. I glanced over at where she stood with Holly in the staffroom doorway, dim misted light wrapping itself around them from the room beyond. She clasped Holly’s hand tightly, her huge brown eyes gleaming with relief and gratitude as she inclined her head in a small bow. For an instant, something odd nagged at me, then the kitchen claimed my full attention.

I cupped my palms in front of me and called the magic.

Power filled my hands, rushing into me. Wind lifted my hair, heat suffused my body, millions of tiny sharp needles stung my skin. The magic gripped me, flung my arms wide, arched my spine, lifted my feet from the ground. I hung suspended, head thrown back, mouth gasping air into my protesting lungs. Black dots danced before my eyes. Pleasure and pain streamed through me in one long scream as the last drop of magic slammed me to the floor.

I wrapped my arms around my head and curled into a tight ball. Less than a minute passed while the magic bubbled with exhilaration though my blood, chasing away the residual aches and soreness, leaving my heart pounding. A burst of golden light spread out from my skin, shimmering soft and dew-like before dissipating in the air.

Who knew brownie magic could feel so good?

‘I heard you could do that.’ Finn spoke close to my ear, his voice tinged with satisfaction. ‘Absorb the magic, instead of cracking it or just pulling it apart.’

I rolled limply onto my back, the most movement I could manage with the power still settling inside me, and found him kneeling next to me. I gazed up at him. Tiny emerald flecks flared deep in the moss-green of his eyes. Speculation flickered across his features. And there was something else, some other emotion ... respect maybe, or awe?

‘Genny?’ His tone was soft and low.

‘What?’ I murmured, fascinated by the way his mouth moulded my name.

‘How much magic can you call?’ He bent over me, warm berry-scented breath caressing my face. ‘More than this?’

I frowned, his questions confusing, unexpected. A thought pricked through the last haze of the power high: this had been a lot of magic. But before I could pin my vague suspicion down, Finn scooped me into his arms, stood and held me tucked tight against him.

Adrenalin and need shot through me. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ I snarled, pushing my hand against his chest, feeling his heart thump beneath my palm.

‘Hell’s thorns, Gen, what d’you think I’m doing? That was a lot of juice you took.’ Hurt flickered on his face, then it was gone and he grinned. ‘I’m only trying to help you, my Lady.’

‘Fine. Well put me down. I can stand on my own, thank you.’ I glared at him. ‘And cut out the “my Lady” crap too.’

‘No problemo,’ he said cheerfully and placed me on my feet. I decided maybe I’d imagined his hurt look.

Ignoring him, I dusted myself down as best I could, trying to catch the odd thought I’d had, only it was quite gone.

A polite cough behind me made me turn. Agatha stood there, hands clasped primly in front of her, eyes staring somewhere past my knees. Holly hovered behind her, a green toothy grin spread across her face. At least someone was enjoying the show. Mr Manager had a slightly stunned expression on his face, but he must have been one of those humans who just take magic in their stride, or maybe blank it completely, as Finn cornered him easily enough with the paperwork.

‘Maself is glad thee came to our aid, Lady.’ Agatha twisted her fingers, but didn’t look up at me.

I crouched down. ‘I was pleased to aid you, Aggie.’ She looked up and I caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes. ‘Holly’s going to be fine.’ I patted her shoulder, but when she flinched, I realised I was the cause of her fear, not Holly.

Damn. Nothing like a magical exhibition to let you know your place in the world.

I told Finn I’d wait outside whilst he finished up with Mr Manager.

Standing on the hot pavement, staring at the clear blue of the sky, I let the heat of the day burn away the air-conditioned chill of the restaurant. The magic fizzed and churned restlessly inside me. I dug into my bag and pulled out three liquorice torpedoes, stuffed them into my mouth and crunched down hard, shuddering as the sugar hit my system. The magic ate it up—the sugar makes it easier to control—and I willed it into a sleepy calm.

The trees along the edge of the road rustled in the slight breeze as Finn strolled out and joined me. ‘Remind me not to take a brownie job again,’ he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

‘If I remember right, you didn’t.’ I teased, but my heart wasn’t in it. ‘This was my job. You just came along for the fun of it.’

He stepped in front of me, close enough that I had to look up at him. ‘Not for fun, Gen.’ He traced a finger along my jaw, an intent, almost hopeful expression in his eyes. ‘To get to know you better.’

I dropped my gaze to the base of his neck, my mouth watered and I had to stifle the urge to place my lips on the smooth tanned skin that stretched over his pulse. Shit. The need was getting stronger, less easy to deny. And I didn’t know why. But why wasn’t the problem here. I took a step back, holding up my hands.

‘Not biting, Finn.’ Mentally I rolled my eyes at my own Freudian slip.

‘Speaking of biting, that was rather interesting, what you told the little faeling.’

‘What did I tell her?’

‘About how we fae taste to vampires.’ His eyes lit up. ‘Wonder what flavour you would be?’

‘I already told you, don’t wander. You’ll only get lost.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He looked at me speculatively. ‘Oranges, maybe,’ he mused.

‘Red hair? Oranges?’ I huffed, striding off. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. Soooo not original.’

Finn matched his pace to mine. ‘You’re right; oranges are much too ordinary. Umm, what would ... Figs maybe? Now they’re supposed to be sexy.’ Shaking his head, he slid an arm round my waist and pulled me to a stop, smiling. ‘Ah, got it—sweet, exotic, hard knobbly shell—gotta be passion fruit.’

I gave him my hard knobbly elbow in his ribs. It connected with a satisfying thud.

‘Speaking of food,’ Finn gasped as he bent double, ‘how about dinner?’

Only if he was on the menu. I shook my head. It wasn’t even a euphemism. I had a moment’s fantasy where I said yes: we went out, had fun, and I didn’t spend the evening wanting to rip into his throat. Then I sighed and came back to live in the real world. No way could I go out with him, or any other fae, not with 3V running riot through my veins. Being fae, Finn would feel its taint in me—if I let him get too close—then he’d run for the nearest faerie hill, not to mention I’d be out of a job.

He caught up with me. ‘C’mon Gen, you’ve got to stop torturing me like this.’ With a rueful smile he rubbed a hand over his stomach, then winked. ‘Or at least say yes, then you can do whatever you want with me.’

Way too enticing. ‘Finn, you’re a nice guy, but ...’ I trailed off as disappointment darkened his eyes, echoing my own silent regret, then I made myself carry on. ‘I’m sorry, but getting personal is not—’

A stiff wind hurled itself along the road, snatching the words from my mouth and rushing up through the branches above us.

Finn placed a finger on my lips, silencing me.

I moved back. ‘Look, I’m really not—’

‘Genny, it’s okay.’ He half-smiled. ‘I get that you’ve said no, but it’s not that.’ He waved an anxious hand at the road. ‘It’s the trees. I think they’re talking about you.’

Another gust whipped past us and the canopy of autumn leaves rustled almost like they were laughing.

I frowned and looked at Finn. ‘What are they saying?’

‘Hell’s thorns, Gen, how should I know? I never learned the language.’