Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2) (29 page)

Once outside, I considered my options.  Somehow I was going to have to get to the Ritz-Carlton hotel to find Solus.  I hadn’t had time to get onto the normal human internet and find out exactly where the hotel was.  It had to be in central London, however.  I had an idea in my head, I guess from having seen it in pictures or on the news, of what it looked like, but its specific location was a bit of a mystery.  I didn’t have any money left now so I couldn’t jump into a cab to get there.  I thought for a moment about flagging one down anyway and making Solus pay for it at the other end – let’s face it, it would be the least he could do after not answering my previous requests for his presence - but there was no guarantee that Solus would even be at the hotel and I didn’t want to cause any more potential trouble.  There was nothing else to be done, I’d just have to try and run my way there.  I hoped it wouldn’t take too long; my time must surely be starting to run out.

I jogged back down to the main road and looked up and down.  There seemed little point in going back the way I’d come, so I figured I’d continue to head away from the Brethren and hope that it was the right way.  It occurred to me as well, that for my plan to work, I’d have to somehow get back to the Brethren too.  Hopefully by then I’d have Solus back on my side and helping.  I could remember Bewer Street but stupidly hadn’t thought to pay attention to what street I’d started from.  It wasn’t like I could ask for directions.  I imagined that conversation in my head with a random passerby.  ‘Yes, um, hello, sir?  Can you tell me where all the dying shapeshifters are holed up?’  No, that probably wouldn’t work.

Setting off yet again, I tried to look up at the skyline for tall, recognisable buildings.  It kind of stood to reason that they would be in the centre of the city where the hotel was.  The angles must have been all wrong, however, because all I could see were telephone wires and grey skies.  I was just pulling my gaze away from the heavens when I careered straight into a hard, warm body.

“What the fuck?”  There hadn’t been anyone in the street a moment before.

“I might ask you the same question, dragonelette,” drawled the object of my search.

I began to pummel Solus on the chest.  I wasn’t trying to hurt him and he didn’t move away but he equally didn’t look massively impressed either.

“Where have you been? Solus, I’ve been calling and calling you!”

The Fae folded his arms and glared at me.  “I’m not your servant and neither am I at your beck and call.  I think we need to re-define the parameters of our relationship.”

“Solus,” I groaned, “I don’t think you’re at my beck and call at all but I thought that maybe we were kind of friends and that I could count on you.  I needed your help.  I know you’re a Fae and you don’t like humans but I thought maybe you liked me a bit.”  I realised as soon as the words were out of my mouth just how pathetic that sounded.

“You’re right,” he said.  “I don’t like humans.  But you aren’t human, are you? And that, not that I owe you an explanation, is where I’ve been.”

I was a bit confused.  Solus elaborated.  “The Summer Queen is none too impressed that I have not yet explained why I have been spending so much time on this plane.  I could, of course have told her that I have a living breathing Draco Wyr with me, but it occurred to me that might not be the best idea just yet so I have been prevaricating about you on your behalf.  Neither is she particularly happy that there is a comatose Scottish witch on her land.”

I freaked out.  “You almost told her what I was?  You prick!  Solus, you’re the one who told me that I couldn’t tell anyone at all!  Well, clearly I don’t need to because you’re doing all the blabbing for me!”

“Dragonlette, she’s my Queen.  And I didn’t tell her YET, but I might have to.”

Jesus, what was it with all these otherworld idiots and their chain of command?

“Anyway,” Solus continued, “you’ll be pleased to know that I have gained you somewhat of a reprieve.  She’s agreed to allow your Mrs Alcoon to stay for the time being, providing that you travel to Tir-na-Nog in the near future to meet her so she can determine your true nature for herself.”

“She’s going to have to get in line,” I growled.

Solus raised his eyebrows at me questioningly.  I filled him in on the events of the last forty-eight hours, from what had happened at the Ministry up till I’d left the Brethren.  I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea broadcasting the fact that the shifter world was becoming incapacitated by a disease, especially to someone who I clearly couldn’t really trust, but if my plan my worked, then I figured it wouldn’t really matter.  And if my plan didn’t work, well then it wouldn’t really matter.

“How did you know I was here?” I questioned, suddenly.  I had given up on calling for Solus ages ago and wasn’t massively keen on the idea that he could find me with a snap of his fairy fingers whenever he wanted to.

“I received a very strange phone call from Balud about someone trying to track me down.  He said the call from this area.”

Oh.  Balud must be the troll.  He must either have some mad tracking skills of his own or some outstandingly good tech to have pinpointed my location.  I decided that either way I didn’t really want to know.  There were other things to worry about for the time being.

I softened my voice and looked hopefully at Solus.  “So, will you help me now?”

“I don’t quite understand, dragonlette.  What help do you require?  I do not see that there is anything you can do, unless you have a medical degree tucked up in your sleeves somewhere.”

“Don’t you get it?  I thought you were all-knowing and wise.  One of the things Mrs Alcoon had me do was collect some blisterwort from the Cairns for her to help her friend.”

“To help her friend get over some mild illness,” Solus said, confused.

“Well, yeah, but she also said that it had been used in the past to cure other things, including something called blushing disease.”

Solus’ expression cleared.  “And you think this blushing disease might be what your pack is suffering from.”

“They’re not my pack, Solus,” I said absently.  “But, yes.”

“There is one other thing that you’ve no really thought about,” he added.

“What?”

“You’re a Draco Wyr.  This Iabartu woman…”

“Uh, demi-goddess, thank you very much.”

He ignored me.  “She wanted your blood, according to you, so that she could use its properties.  And those properties include healing.  Maybe all you need is to get your Lord to suck on your blood, vamp style, and then all your problems are solved.” He clicked his fingers with a snap for effect.

“It’s a possibility, Solus, but I don’t know what my blood can do.  Neither do you for that matter.  I don’t know if it’d end up making things worse, not better.  And besides, it’s also addictive.  I don’t want to turn the pack into a bunch of drug addicts.”

“They might want to know why you are giving them blood in the first place too, of course,” he surmised.

“Yes, and I’m trying to keep that a secret.”  I glared at him to let him know how pissed off I was that he’d been telling others what I didn’t want anyone to know.

He gazed back innocently.  “Hey, you can trust the Summer Queen.  She’s one of the good guys.”

I refrained from commenting that I didn’t think the Fae were ever truly going to be classed as the ‘good guys’ but decided it wouldn’t exactly help my cause.  Instead I returned to my original question.  “So, will you help me?”

“If you promise me that when you’re done with all this daft magic training stuff, you come to Tir-na-Nog and meet the Queen.”

“Yes, yes. I promise,” I said rashly.  “You know it might be five years though?”

He shrugged.  “Time is not a problem.”

I snorted.  “Not for you.  I’m on a clock.”  I peered at him anxiously for a moment.  “You will keep Mrs Alcoon safe until then?”

Solus bowed dramatically and grinned at me.  “You have my word.”  He held out his arm and the air started to shimmer purple.  I held my breath waiting for the inevitable flood of nausea to hit and closed my eyes tightly.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Several moments and several retches later, I was picking myself up off the dark mossy ground at the Clava Cairns.  Unlike the last time I’d been here, there wasn’t a soul in sight.  In fact, other than a patch of blackened grass from someone’s abandoned campfire, there was no trace of the winter solstice festivities that, for me, now seemed half a lifetime ago. 

Solus was standing a few feet away, hands on hips, and head slightly cocked.  He looked vaguely amused.

“Don’t say anything,” I growled at him.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.  I glared at him in further warning and he shrugged and wandered off to inspect some of the standing stones.  Spitting on the ground to rid myself of the taste of bile, I began to cast around for signs of the blisterwort.  There appeared to be a cluster over to my right so I strode off, ignoring the Fae further.

I figured that I’d probably require a great deal of the stuff.  Whilst it was by no means indigenous to Inverness, I had absolutely no idea where else I’d be able to procure some so it made sense to get as much as I could right now.  I was careful to dig into the cold hard ground with my fingertips and uproot the plants completely however.  At least that way Julia would be able to make proper cuttings to encourage it to grow elsewhere – preventing any future outbreaks of the disease.  As I did so, I entertained myself with visions of Corrigan falling at my feet in abject gratitude at my having saved the entire Pack from oblivion.

“I will never call you kitten again, Mack, my savior,” I grunted, scrabbling into the earth while on my knees.  “Neither will I have my minions capture you and throw you into a cell.  Instead I am clearly out of my league as leader of the Pack.  You must take my place and I will become your servant.”

An image flashed into my mind of myself draped over a chaise longue and Corrigan, wearing nothing more than a loin cloth, dropping grapes languidly into my mouth.

“What are you muttering about?” asked Solus from right behind me.

I started, blushing involuntarily as my daydream immediately evaporated.  “Uh, nothing.”  I cleared my throat.  “Make yourself useful, Solus, and help me get as much of this as I can.”

The Fae moved round in front of me and knelt down, waggling his fingers in my face.  “Do you see these?”

“Yes, you have fingers.  Congratulations.  Now put them to use.”

“Dragonlette, you fail to see what is right in front of you.  It takes considerable time and effort to maintain such perfectly manicured and groomed fingers as these.  I am not about to ruin such good work by shoving my hands into some frozen Scottish dirt for a shapeshifter.  In fact, truthfully, I don’t really understand why you are doing it either.  We are talking about the people who threw you out because you weren’t furry enough to be one of them and from whom you’ve been hiding for the last six months.”

“Well, by the sounds of things I didn’t have to be hiding from them at all.  I had kind of got that wrong.  They were only worried that I might have gone rogue, not that I might be a human.”  I shoved the blisterwort I’d already collected up at Solus.  “Here.  If you’re not going to help dig it up, then the least you can do is hold the bloody stuff.”

He reluctantly took hold of the plants, with the faintest expression of someone who’d been asked to carry nuclear waste.  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re so keen to help them.  What have they done for you?”

I sighed and moved over to another patch.  “Life isn’t all about quid pro quo, Solus.  Sometimes it’s just nice to be nice.”  I tried conveniently to forget that I’d just been fantasising about exactly what quid pro quo I could get from Corrigan.

“Bullshit,” he said mildly.  “You’re not nice.”

I began to splutter, pausing from my digging.  He waggled his eyebrows at me.  “Oh, come on, dragonlette.  You have an outrageous temper.  And when was the last time you were nice to someone?”

“I’m nice all the time!”

“Go on.  Name the last time you were nice.”

I stared up at Solus, slightly open-mouthed as I tried to think.  Surely there must be lots of times in the last few days?  I rocked back on my heels.  “Oh god. You’re right.  I’m a horrible person.  I can’t remember the last time I was nice.  I’m a bitch.” 

Solus laughed at my mournful epiphany.  I shot him a look filled with daggers, then realised that probably wasn’t very nice.  “Dragonlette, you’re not a bitch.  You’re just a dragon.  You have a bad temper and a strong sense of survival but you’re so much more than
nice. 
Relax.”  He grinned at me.  “And stop changing the subject.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not helping the shifters because you’re nice.  You’re helping them because you want them to like you.  Or rather because you want a certain black haired, green eyed cat to like you at least.”

“Corrigan?  You think I’m doing this because I want Corrigan to like me?  I can’t stand him!  He’s a total arse.  In fact, he’s a megalomaniac who has done nothing but cause me trouble.”

“And?”  prompted Solus.

“And what?”

“Oh come on.  You clearly fancy the pants off of him.”

“Fuck off!  I do not!”

I pulled myself up to standing and eyeballed Solus.  He just calmly looked back at me.  “It’s okay, dragonlette, you can say it.”

I shook my head at him in glum confusion. 

“Say ‘Solus, you are always right’.”

I stared at him.  “I do not fancy Corrigan,” I enunciated.

He smirked.  “Sure.”

My mouth was suddenly dry.  I thought about the Lord Alpha and the last time I’d seen him, with his green gold eyes roving irritably over me, and the ridiculous disappointment I’d felt when he’d turfed me out, as well as the way his muscles had rippled under his shirt despite the tiredness that was no doubt caused by the red fever.

“Oh God,” I whispered.

“There you go,” said Solus smugly.   He licked his lips.  “It’s alright though, I can wait.”

It took me a moment for his words to register and for me to find my voice.  “Wait for what?”