The Sweet Scent of Blood

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The door to Spellcrackers was locked. I pressed my finger to the intercom, tapping my foot with impatience.

‘Spellcrack—’ came a voice.

‘Toni, it’s me,’ I called, cutting her off.

‘Oh hi, Genny, hold on. I’ll buzz you in.’

There was a click and I shoved open the door and dashed in. Toni stared down at me from the top of the stairs. She was eye-catchingly bright in a slim cerise sundress and purple bolero jacket, her pink and purple hair extensions curling like they belonged on the Medusa. I ran up, taking the treads two at a time.

‘Hold on, Honeybee,’ Toni laughed, ‘what’s all the rush for? You’re not supposed to be at work until tomorrow.’

‘Sorry, Toni,’ I gasped, ‘can’t stop. Have to see Finn.’

She caught my arm, a sly grin on her face. ‘You found out about his tail yet?’

‘Later, okay?’ I shook her hand off, tried to squeeze past her.

‘Hey, no problem.’ She winked and moved to let me through. ‘You’ll find the horny sex god in his office. ‘I’m just going to double-check the entrance, those kids are driving—’

I raced to the end of the corridor and flung the door wide open. Finn was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped on a couple of box files.

‘There’s a spell,’ I gasped, slapping my hands on his desk, ‘a real nasty one, and someone’s tagged you with it!’

‘Hello, Gen.’ He swivelled his chair round to face me.

‘It’s to do with the vampires, lets them steal power from us—’ I could hardly get the words out fast enough.

He ran a hand through his hair and scratched behind his left horn. ‘Why are you here, Gen? I left a message on your phone to stay away.’

‘Dammit, Finn, didn’t you hear what I just said?’

‘Yes, I heard.’ Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Fuck. He so didn’t look so good. I looked. The mist clung to him like a thick second skin. ‘Shit, it’s all over you!’

He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. ‘I know all about the spell, Gen,’ he said, sounding tired.

I blinked. ‘You do?’

He came up to me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I felt it earlier, when I tried to pull that stunt on Helen: something draining at me, sucking me dry. I didn’t realise what it was then.’

My heart thudded against my ribs. Mick said the spell only killed faelings. Finn was fae. What if Mick was wrong? Swallowing back my fear, I wrapped my hand round Finn’s wrist. His skin was hot and clammy. I slid gold tendrils of magic into him, searching.

‘Finn, I think I can call the spell, take it from—’

He gave me a sad smile. ‘It’s too late Gen.’ He lifted my chin with his forefinger and touched his mouth gently to mine. ‘Way too late.’

Jagged thorns ripped through my heart, bled grief like acid juice. In the far reaches of his mind, a desolate wind scoured all before it.

Damn. What was he doing—why was he fighting me? Didn’t he know I was trying to help?

I built a hedge of golden hope to keep the wind out.

Sliding my hand round Finn’s neck, I pulled him down. ‘Don’t fight me, Finn.’ I pressed my lips to his, spilling my Glamour into his mouth. ‘I know how to—’

Something stung my upper arm.

Yelping, I jerked away. A pinprick of blood spotted my skin. Eyes wide, I looked at him.

‘What the—?’

‘I’m sorry, Gen.’

‘Sorry?’ I frowned, bemused, glanced at the blood again. Then back at him.

He held up something that looked like a short pen. ‘I wasn’t fighting you.’ His voice was dull.

I couldn’t feel my arm, couldn’t move it. There was no pain, just spreading numbness. And then I knew what it was. He’d injected me with iron filings. They’d slip through my body, numbing me as they went, until they reached my brain ... and I’d be unconscious—or maybe worse ...

I stared at him, speechless, and lost my hold on the magic.

The wind screamed against the golden hedge, turned it brittle with despair. The mist escaped like grey smoke swirling into the sky.

Horror sliced through me. He’d been containing the spell, and now he’d let it go. Finn’s face wavered, then doubled. I gazed at the two of him disappearing into the mist as the greyness filled the room.

He touched my cheek. ‘You really shouldn’t have come looking for me. You should’ve gone to Hugh. You’d have been safe there.’

Safe? My lips tried to form the question. The room tilted as I felt his arms wrap around me, then he lowered me to the floor.

‘I didn’t want to hurt you, my Lady.’ His eyes swam through the grey. Only they weren’t the moss-green I knew; there was something wrong with them. They were like algae-covered pools, waiting to suck me down. Then his tears splashed emerald chips into the greyness.

I tried to catch them with my fingers.

Green stems pushed their way into the fog, seeking for something to hold onto.

‘Oh good, hon, you’ve done it.’ The voice was female, brisk.

The fog closed over the stems, hid them from my Sight.

‘Did you inject her over the heart?’ the voice said.

‘You should’ve let me stun her.’ Finn’s voice was harsh. ‘This is too dangerous.’

‘No. This way is better. If you’d stunned her, she might have cracked it before you’d hit her—much too risky. She’s been iffy with magic lately. Too much salt in her diet.’

I had to banish the fog. I had to find the stems.

Gold light flared, formed trembling tendrils that curled into the greyness. One green shoot crept its way up through the fog.

‘I told you, she’s too strong. Even half out of it, she’s trying to use her Glamour. It has to be the heart. Lift up her top.’

‘No, I won’t.’ But it was more a plea than a determined denial.

‘Finn, there’s no way you can gainsay me, not with the spells I’ve tagged you with, so stop fighting and just get on with it.’

Pink and purple streamers slithered through the grey, twisting over and along the fragile green stem. The stem shivered and struggled and writhed in pain, trying to be free. But the streamers wrapped around and around, until there was nothing but a thrashing nest of brightly coloured snakes.

Feverish fingers traced over my skin.

‘That’s it, do it there. I’ll hold her down.’ Weight pressed against my ribs. ‘Sorry, Honeybee, but this is going to hurt like the Nine Circles of Hell.’

The sting was a tiny, distant pain. She’d been wrong. Somewhere I laughed.

The fog bloomed with golden flowers.

Then cold iron filled my chest.

And the flowers withered.