The Sweet Scent of Blood

Chapter Eight

‘How’d it go with the horny bastard then?’ ‘What?’ I slumped in Hugh’s spare chair and pressed my phone closer to my ear, my exhausted gaze taking in the still empty murder squad room. I’d got out of Bobby’s cell in one piece, no thanks to Constable Curly-hair, and I’d even survived Hugh’s disappointed, disapproving concern. I was tacitly blaming the stun-spell for my jitters. And now I had to wait for DI Crane—she had expressed a wish to see me herself, which sounded like more fun than a whole barrel of laughs.

‘C’mon, Genny,’ Toni’s voice teased me over the phone, ‘’Fess up: did you succumb or not, when Finn asked you out? Remember there’s a lot riding on the answer.’

I rubbed the back of my neck and briefly shut my tired eyes. ‘Oh, that horny bastard.’ Now I knew what our office manager was talking about.

I opened my hand, looked at the blister-pack of G-Zav tablets sitting innocently in my palm. I was going to have to give in and take them.

‘You knew who I meant!’ She tutted in exasperation. ‘Don’t forget I know what your social life is like—it’s as frozen as the South Pole—and if the male of the species was my thing, Finn’s hot enough that I’d definitely let him melt my ice caps.’ She laughed. ‘Now, you know your Auntie Toni’s right, so tell me you’ve put the sexy satyr out of his misery. And remember, your secrets are safe with me.’

That got a weary smile; Toni was the biggest gossip out. ‘Nothing to tell,’ I assured her, brushing dust from my trousers. The black linen was starting to look like I’d been rolling around the floor—Oh wait, I had. Twice. ‘Finn asked me out, but no, I didn’t “succumb”, as you so succinctly put it.’ Even if he had picked me up. Literally.

Using my thumb, I pushed two tiny black pills out of the packet.

‘What is it with you, Genny?’ Her disappointed sigh whistled down the phone. ‘It’s not good to keep your libido locked up like this. C’mon, Honeybee.’ Her tone turned pleading. ‘There’s just three more days before the bet’s up. Give in, have some fun with the sex god, it’ll do you good.’

I let the saliva pool in my mouth then popped the pills between my lips, tipped my head back and swallowed.

‘Otherwise, Genny,’ Toni warned, ‘Team Toni is going to have to treat that bitch—sorry, witch—Leanora and her Luvvies to facials plus all the works.’

‘Toni—’ I exhaled on a strangled laugh, my tongue sparking with the concentrated liquorice aftertaste. ‘Toni, how can I put this? No way am I going out with Finn, no way am I having sex with him, just so as you can find out about his tail and win a bet!’

I missed her next few words as the G-Zav hit. It’s like the build-up to great sex, and then... instead of the fun part, someone injects ice-water into your veins, leaving you feeling like crap. But at least G-Zav, the vampire junkies’ methadone equivalent, kept the cravings and blood-flushes under control. If you were human, two tablets would work for a couple of nights, but being fae, I’d metabolise them in a couple of hours. Then I had a choice: another dose, and a session with the leeches (real ones, not the doctor or sucker type)—or I took my chances with the next vamp I bumped into.

So not the healthy option.

Then the amphetamine in the G-Zav kicked in and as I started to feel better, Toni’s voice faded back in: ‘—and you’re the only one who’s got a chance of finding out.’

‘Uh-huh,’ I murmured absently into the phone.

‘So you will!’ Toni’s voice jumped with eagerness. ‘Oh, I could hug you, Genny . That’s going to—’

‘Hang on a minute,’ I interrupted, ‘what exactly have I just agreed to?’

‘Asking Finn about his tail, of course! I just told you—Leanora’s convinced the only way anyone can find out is the fun way—but none of her cronies have managed to get that far,’ she gave a derisive laugh, ‘and I can tell you, some of the tricks they’ve tried to get him to do the down-and-dirty, well, I almost feel sorry for him.’

So Finn hadn’t been doing any ‘succumbing’ himself. Strangely, instead of feeling pleased, anger rose, making me want to hit something—the snippet of gossip was irrelevant after all. Anything with Finn had always been a non-starter, never mind Hugh’s all-too-recent repeat lecture on the important don’ts in my life, or the situation I was in.

‘Anyway,’ Toni carried on, ‘I only need to find out what colour his tail is, and everyone knows you’re the one he’s got a thing for, so maybe if you asked him nicely enough he’d tell you,’ she finished in a hopeful tone.

‘If all anyone had to do was ask,’ I muttered, ‘what’s with all the fuss that’s been going on?’

Toni snorted. ‘Leanora’s after Finn herself. She was worried about you being competition, so she’s been doing that reverse-psych thing on you. She thinks that making the bet all about sex will put you off.’

‘Weird.’ More mind games. There were a lot of them going around, which brought my mind back to the vampires and Bobby’s selective memories, and his guided tour through our shared past. Had he killed Melissa and his Master caused him to forget it? Or was it only her death that had been wiped from his mind? And why bother anyway? Maybe I’d find out when I paid his Master a personal visit. I pressed my palm against my thudding heart. There’s nothing like the thought of meeting the head of one of London’s four blood-families for giving a girl’s cardiovascular system a really fast workout, never mind the blasts of adrenalin the G-Zav was shooting through my veins.

‘And the other thing,’ Toni carried on, oblivious to my inattention, ‘Leanora thinks she can get Finn to jump the broom with her.’

The office door swung open and Constable Curly-hair, the unpleasant smirk still stuck on her face, ambled over to the water dispenser.

I said sharply, ‘She’s got no chance.’

‘’Course she hasn’t,’ Toni huffed. ‘I mean, I reckon I’d have more luck with him, and that’s with me batting for the other side. Anyway, did that journo friend of Stella’s find you earlier?’

‘Uh-huh,’ I murmured.

Constable Curly-hair brought her water over to Hugh’s desk, put it down and picked up one of Hugh’s fat pens. She started clicking it on and off.

I stared at the wet ring mark marring the desk’s shine.

‘Well, you’ll never guess!’ Toni’s voice switched to high-gossip mode. ‘You know that vamp that’s in all the papers?’ She paused for effect. ‘Well, the journo guy is his dad!’

I snagged one of Hugh’s coasters. ‘Yeah, Toni, I know.’ Leaning forward, I picked up the cup and placed it on the coaster, dead centre.

Constable Curly-hair twirled the pen at me, indicating I should hurry up and finish.

‘You know?’ I could almost feel Toni’s excitement. ‘So what did he want you for?’

‘Nothing much.’

The constable made a show of looking at her watch.

‘C’mon Genny,’ Toni pleaded, ‘don’t tease, it must’ve been something. You know I have to know these things.’

‘I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, Toni.’ I brushed another speck from my trousers. ‘There’s a larger matter here I have to deal with first.’ I said my goodbyes, dropped the phone back into my bag and leaned back in my chair.

Constable Curly-hair threw the troll-pen down and it clattered over the desk. ‘I want a word with you.’

What had I done to piss her off so badly? I gave her a level look. ‘What, just the one?’

Her lips twisted in a sneer again. ‘It’s a bloody shame the sucker didn’t bleed you dry,’ she snapped.

‘But we were so rudely interrupted,’ I reminded her. ‘Good things take time.’

Her face wrinkled in disgust. ‘Hugh’s a good man.’ She picked her cup up. ‘He’s kind, caring, concerned.’ She knocked back the water as though it was something stronger. ‘Sometimes he’s too kind, and people take advantage.’

Ahh. Now we were getting to it. I smiled, though it didn’t reach my eyes. ‘Do they,’ I said in a flat voice

‘Of course, you know about the kids he helps.’ Crumpling the cup, she lobbed it over-arm into a nearby bin.

I caught the flash of pink magic at her wrist again, then her sleeve covered it.

‘The kids he finds on the streets, runaways, and others.’ She wiped her hands down her thighs, tugging at her too-tight uniform trousers. ‘He tries to stop them stealing, doing dope, turning tricks, whatever.’

I tapped the arm of the chair.

‘I know you’re one of them, that Hugh thinks he helped you.’ Spots of colour stained her cheeks. ‘Oh, not that he’s said anything, he’s too nice for that, but I can tell by the way he talks about you.’

‘And you’re telling me this because?’

She leaned towards me, ample breasts threatening the buttons on her shirt. ‘I know your sort, even if he doesn’t. You’re just a nasty little slut who thinks she can get anything she wants using magic.’ Mascara caked her lashes into unattractive clumps. ‘I might be human, but I’m a witch’s daughter. When you came in here with the sucker’s dad, your magic was all over like him like a nasty rash. I could see it.’

A witch’s daughter: her father was human, not sidhe. I’d have offered my sympathies if it hadn’t been for what she was up to.

She shook her finger at me. ‘Glamour spells are illegal, you know that as well as I do. Stay away from Hugh. Maybe then I’ll forget what I saw.’

‘What, like you forgot to stay outside the cell earlier?’ Grabbing her finger, I bent it far enough back to hurt. ‘I think you’ve already forgotten enough, don’t you?’

‘Bitch,’ she hissed, breathing bitter coffee-breath all over me. She swung at me, clawed fingers going for my face, but I caught her wrist, yanked her arm behind her and pushed her back against the desk. She jerked her knee up and I twisted easily to the side, using the desk to trap her.

‘You think you know a lot, don’t you?’ I kept my voice low. ‘Well, here’s something else you should know.’ I bent her finger back even more, forcing her arm down. Grunting, she heaved against me, but I shoved her back and shook her arm until her bracelet dropped, the beads chinking. ‘Glamour isn’t the only type of spell that’s illegal.’

She went still and fear flickered in her eyes.

My gut twisted in anger as I looked at the bracelet. Every rose quartz bead but one winked with a spell: lust, binding, memory, maybe an-eye-of-the-beholder ... not that I could tell what they all were, but I’d seen bracelets like this in the market: True Love spells, the quartz being the affinity gem that ties the magic together—only love is too pure an emotion to be manufactured, so the bracelets are really nothing more than a confidence boost—unless they come with the addition of an illegal compulsion spell. Like the one hidden in the pink bead that appeared empty of magic.

No wonder Hugh couldn’t stop watching her.

Cracking the spells would shatter the bracelet into so much pink dust, but if Janet had been desperate enough to buy one in the first place, that wasn’t going to stop her.

‘What’s your new DI going to say when she sees this?’ I murmured in her ear. ‘And Hugh, how d’you think he’s going to feel?’

‘You wouldn’t—!’

‘Believe me, I so would.’

‘No! You don’t understand,’ she whined. ‘I love Hugh, only he won’t go out with a human. I just wanted him to think about me like that.’ Her voice hitched on a sob. ‘You can’t tell him.’

I shifted so I could look her in the eyes. ‘Okay ... but there is one condition.’ Shit, was I really going to bargain with her? Probably not the greatest idea I’d ever had, but this was for Hugh, so I ignored my unease and said, ‘You remove the bracelet and keep it in an envelope.’

‘That’s it?’ Surprise sharpened her features. ‘Nothing else?’

‘Agree, and I’ll won’t tell Hugh, or your DI.’

Her expression turned sly. ‘Give your word you won’t tell anyone else either.’

Of course she’d think of that one. ‘Agreed.’

‘And I get to keep the bracelet?’

‘In the envelope.’

She chewed her lip and considered the deal. Then she sighed. ‘Fine, okay.’

A quiet chime split the air around us.

‘Hear that?’ I squeezed her wrist. ‘Never break a bargain with a fae.’

‘I know that,’ she sniffed.

She’d come up with a way to weasel out of the deal; I’d made it too fast to think through all the options, but if it was the wrong way—the magic could be capricious when it wanted—then the magic would take its retribution. I’d be okay, so long as I kept my end of the bargain. I laughed—not a happy sound—and released her.

She threw me a nasty look and massaged her hand. ‘You’re pretty strong for such a skinny bitch, you know.’ She grabbed an envelope from a pile on a nearby desk and slipped the bracelet off her wrist. ‘I really get to keep it and you won’t say anything?’

‘Yes,’ I repeated, ‘as long as it’s kept sealed in the same envelope.’

A devious smile twitched across her lips, then was gone. She knew as well as I did that the bracelet worked best worn next to skin, but even in an envelope it would still have some power ... but she wasn’t a witch, only a witch’s daughter—she’d have a touch of ability through her genes, but it wouldn’t be much more than any other full-blooded human. And judging by how overweight she was, she had to be scoffing sugar by the bagful to amp-up what little sight she did have. There was no way she’d be able to check the bracelet still had all its spells while it was in the envelope, and until she figured out how to get out of the deal, Hugh would be safe.

As if I’d conjured him up the door opened and Hugh’s deep voice sounded from the hall. A tall thirtysomething woman appeared, stopped and scanned the office, then stalked in, her thin body ramrod-straight. Hugh followed behind.

Constable Curly-hair quickly dropped the bracelet inside the envelope, and sealed it closed. She tucked her package safely into her pocket then turned towards the woman, saying brightly, ‘I was just getting a coffee. Can I get you one, ma’am?’

I slumped back in my chair—I needed to be sitting down for the next part of my plan—then I focused on the pink glow at Janet’s hip and called the spell. The magic hit me like a fist in the stomach and winded me so badly I hunched over, hugging myself. The grey linoleum floor turned into a swirling sea that threatened to engulf me, bile rose in my throat and I banged my head on the underside of the desk to keep from throwing up. I scrabbled for my bag, then, clutching a hand to my head, I eased upright in the chair.

‘Are you okay, Genny?’ Hugh’s concerned face blurred in front of me.

‘Yeah,’ I mumbled, ‘just banged my head.’ I blinked at him. ‘I feel a bit dizzy.’

He placed a gentle hand at the back of my skull. ‘Put your head between your knees. Take deep breaths.’

I breathed in and out and a shimmer of heat rushed through me. The magic settled. Slowly I sat up and sank back into the chair. As I apologised I noticed the constable had left the room.

‘Accidents happen.’ The thin woman stared down at me, a deep frown making her patrician features look even more severe. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Helen Crane, Ms Taylor.’ She smiled and it was like the moon shining in the night sky. Suddenly she was beautiful.

I’d been wondering why no one else had noticed the constable’s bracelet. Here was the answer: Helen Crane’s jacket lapel sagged under the weight of three gold broaches set with chips of jade. A wide belt glittering with crystals cinched her waist. Long strings of garnets swung from her lobes tangling with her honey-blonde hair, and as she leaned towards me I noticed a sapphire the size of a robin’s egg nestled in the deep vee of her black silk blouse.

DI Crane was decorated like an expensive Christmas tree, only it wasn’t the fortune in jewellery that had my nerves twitching but the strength of the spells stored in the gems—almost enough juice to fill half the magic stalls in Covent Garden Witches’ Market. It made me want to ask her exactly what she was afraid off.

She regarded me with an indecipherable look out of eyes as blue as the sapphire she wore, then lifted a hand, her fingers adorned with enough rings to double as high-priced knuckledusters, and brushed her thumb across the side of my mouth. ‘You have a smear of lipstick on your cheek, Ms Taylor.’

‘Have I?’ I snagged another of Hugh’s paper coasters and rubbed at my face.

She took the crumpled coaster from me, tilted my chin and wiped my mouth as though I were a child. ‘There.’ She gave me a peculiar smile. ‘All gone.’

I gave her a half-smile back, not sure whether to be amused or insulted.

Her expression fell back into severe lines. ‘Sergeant Munro tells me you want to look at the pathologist’s report on Melissa Banks.’ She angled her head and looked at me quizzically. ‘Why exactly is that?’

I wasn’t really all that interested; it had been Hugh’s reason for escaping after I’d deliberately embarrassed him. But as I felt another prick of guilt for the way I’d manipulated him, I said, ‘As I can’t look at the body, I thought it might be a good idea.’

‘You misunderstand me,’ she said. ‘You’re not a police consultant. You have no medical qualifications. You don’t deal with the dead. So why are you even here?’ Her eyes bored into me.

I had misunderstood her. ‘Alan Hinkley asked me to come.’ I accepted the cup of water Hugh was holding out towards me. Red dust shimmered in his black hair.

DI Crane’s mouth turned down. ‘Do you always do what people ask of you?’

‘My job is to find magic, Inspector.’ I took a sip of water, looked at her over the rim of the cup. ‘If that’s what I’m asked to do, then it pays me to do it.’

Spreading the fingers of her right hand, she inspected her rings, then clenched her fist. ‘The Witches’ Council wouldn’t have approved any involvement in this matter from Spellcrackers.com without a police request.’ She looked up, stared me straight in the eyes. ‘There hasn’t been one. Furthermore, there is no need for one. I have personally investigated Mr Hinkley’s claims that his so—’

She stopped mid-word, blue eyes going unfocused.

I glanced at Hugh, but he gave a tiny shake of his head, as mystified as I was.

DI Crane grasped her left earring as the colour faded from her face. A thin red line snaked out of her palm and twisted around her wrist, vanishing into her sleeve.

I jumped up, thinking she’d cut herself on her gems, that it was blood, then I realised it was a spell, one so powerful that I’d seen it without needing to look.

‘Munro.’ The DI’s voice cracked. She clutched the sapphire pendant with her other hand. ‘Sergeant Munro.’ The words were firmer, more decisive. ‘Reception. Now.’ She turned and made for the door, saying over her shoulder to him, ‘They’re coming.’

Who is coming?

I hurried after them into the Back Hall, where a soft slapping sound caught my attention. Jeremiah the goblin, his mouth stretched wide in a grin, his green sequins bright against the black of his teeth, was smacking his bat against the palm of his hand as he stared fixedly at the entranceway.

Behind the goblin stood Neil Banner and Alan Hinkley, looking similarly confused as they looked from the goblin to us to the door.

Then a crawling sensation washed over me, raising every hair on my body, and I knew what—or rather, who—was coming. This was so not good. Advertising their approach like this was akin to taking an imp to show-and-tell at Sunday School.

Hugh’s hair had flattened, giving him a hard, crushing look. Had he remembered about the goblin’s bling, remembered how young and inexperienced the goblin was? ‘Hugh,’ I muttered, trying to catch his attention.

‘Not now, Genny,’ he said, voice calm. ‘Go back inside. This is no place for you.’

Maybe he was right.

But it was too late.

The door crashed open. A chill wind rushed in, swirled round the hall, set the lights swinging on their chains and rattled the glass in the windows.

Then all was perfect stillness.

And the sound of the goblin slapping his bat on the palm of his hand sounded as loud as a fire-dragon’s jaw snapping closed.