Sweet Scent of Blood (38 page)

What was it the Earl had wanted? He’d wanted me to find the spell and absorb it. And I was betting that whatever the spell did, it wasn’t something cute like producing fluffy bunnies from top hats. Maybe he thought I could regurgitate it in one piece ... although thinking about it, he wasn’t far wrong - which made me wonder just exactly where the Earl had got his information about me. I shoved that thought aside for later.

But if Psycho Louis was here for the spell, then why was he wasting his time playing kissy-face with Holly? Okay, she was a faeling with a powerful mother, and she probably tasted good, but ... Something nagged me, just at the edge of my memory.

I picked up the photo - maybe I could use it to get me into Inspector Crane’s good books - and pasted on a fake smile. ‘Can I have this?’

Louis nodded with enthusiasm.

I tucked it into my waistcoat pocket and stood up. ‘Holly, tell him the answer’s no. In fact’ - I picked up the cheque, tore it in two - ‘that will save you the translation.’

Louis’ brows knitted together and he glared up at me. ‘Meestake. You make bad meestake.’

Leaning down, I placed my hands flat on the table. ‘Not in my book, mate.’ I looked at Holly, clinging open-mouthed to his arm. ‘I hope your mother knows what she’s doing.’

I left them and strode back into the kitchen. ‘Time to go, Agatha.’

‘She’ll be back in a couple of mins.’ Mick was slouched in a heap on the floor. His red hair hung wet and dripping down his neck, and something I decided not to look too closely at was smeared across one cheek and down one side of his long coat.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Mick?’

‘I’m following you, of course,’ he sniffed. ‘Aggie’s gone to sort out one of her kitchens. I messed it up when I came through.’ He wrapped his coat tighter round him. ‘Jeeesus, I hate the brownies’ trail, it always makes me want to puke.’

I crouched down, frowning. ‘Why are you following me?’

He looked sideways at me. ‘Y’know you asked Fiona about the spell?’

‘Don’t tell me,’ I said flatly, ‘she’s remembered all about it now.’

‘Okay, I won’t.’ His bottom lip stuck out and he said petulantly, ‘You should’ve asked me, Genny.’

‘So why didn’t you say something back there?’

He gave a sulky shrug. ‘You weren’t very nice about Seamus.’

Rolling my eyes, I said, ‘Fine. Mick, I’m sorry I was nasty to you and Seamus. Now, what about the damn spell?’

He sniffed again. ‘It does something to turn fae into a sort of battery pack for a vampire. The vamp gets a big boost from it; he doesn’t need to touch or even feed, apparently. Specially if it’s someone powerful, like you.’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his skinny neck. ‘Only it’s got some hitches. It doesn’t always work on faelings, or else some of them die. And the vamps still can’t get us in a mind-lock.’

Fuck. I’d been right: the spell was definitely not fluffy bunny rabbits.

Then the nagging memory about Holly caught up with me.

I glanced around. It was here, in the kitchen. I’d been getting ready to
call
the brownie spells, the ones cast by Aggie and Finn. Holly had stood in the doorway, the light misting behind her. Only it hadn’t been light, it had been the spell.

Holly had had the spell in her - Louis must have tasted it when he’d fed on her - the spell the vamps were looking for.

And I’d
called
it from her.

I almost laughed; I hadn’t needed to find the spell. I’d had it all the time.

Holly flung herself through the swing doors. ‘Louis says he’ll double his offer to one million.’

Then another memory hit me. I’d seen the spell again, earlier today, in fact, when it had been misting round Finn.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

T
he Rosy Lee’s kitchen took shape around me, the high-level grills and deep fat fryers coming into sharp focus. My feet touched tiled floor and Agatha’s small hand melted from mine. I gasped for breath as my stomach tumbled in freefall. I took another step and lurched forwards, landing on my hands and knees, staring down into a face I’d hoped never again to see this close.

Gazza, the Cheap Goth, sneered up at me. For a moment I half-thought I was back in the alley with him as blood and snot bubbled round the safety pin in his broken nose. He groaned, and revulsion made me scramble backwards. Then I stopped.

Thin black rope was wrapped tight round his body in neat, equally distanced circles. A precise line of knots ran from under his chin down to his ankles. He thrashed violently, groaning again, but the sound was muffled and I realised there was something stuffed in his mouth.

What the—?
Someone had trussed him up like a side of beef ready for the oven. I poked him in stunned amazement.

He made more angry sounds and the bloody snot expanded, then splat against his skin.

A noise behind me had me jerking round to see Freddie rushing into the kitchen, one of his carving knives hefted in his right hand. He rushed towards me and I dived and tucked myself under the prep counter. He swerved to follow me.

‘Slow down, Freddie,’ I yelled, keeping my eye on the knife.

I was almost sure he wasn’t out to get me, but you don’t take chances when a twenty-stone chef is running at you brandishing over a foot of gleaming steel blade.

‘Genny, thank God you’re here,’ he wheezed. ‘I’ve been trying to call you.’ He bent, gasping, hands on his knees. ‘You weren’t answering your phone.’

‘I’m here now, Freddie,’ I said, keeping my voice calm, ‘so put the knife down, okay?’

He glanced down, obviously baffled to see the knife in his hand. It clattered to the floor. ‘Sorry Genny.’ He smacked his hand on his bald head. ‘God knows, but I just didn’t know what to do.’

I crawled out and grabbed his arm. ‘Freddie, what’s going on?’

‘Katie didn’t come in to work today. I phoned her mum, and she said Katie’d gone out with a friend last night, and rung to say she was staying over and not to worry.’

Dread twisted in my gut. ‘What’s Katie got to do with him?’

He took a deep breath and threw a disgusted look at Gazza by the fridge. ‘This piece of shite here came strolling in with a message.’ The muscles in Freddie’s arm bunched under my hand. ‘For you.’

‘What’s the message?’ I shouted over the pulse thundering in my ears.

‘He wouldn’t tell me, said he had to tell you and only you.’ Freddie’s face crunched up with disgust. ‘The little shite told me I could make him lunch while he waited!’ He kicked Gazza on his ankle and a muffled squeal of rage came from behind the gag. ‘Well, I made
him
lunch, just as he wanted.’

Freddie swung down and ripped the cloth from Gazza’s mouth. ‘Go on then, arsehole, give her the goddamned message. ’

‘Fuckinfaeriefreakansstupidbastoldman—’

Freddie slapped Gazza across the face. ‘Tell her, you piece of shite.’ He pointed to the carver on the floor. ‘Or I’ll start slicing bits off you.’

‘You don’t frighten me, you stupid old man! Nothing hurts any more - he told me it wouldn’t. Said he’d make it all better too, whatever you did,’ he sniggered. ‘So you can go fuck yourself.’ He stared up at me. ‘And you, faerie freak, he’s got big plans for you, and he said—’

I smacked my hand onto his forehead and slid into the tangled net of his thoughts. A rope of black twisted snake-like through them. Snagging it in a tendril of gold, I yanked on it and ordered, ‘Just give me the fucking message!’

‘The count sends his regards.’ I got a brief image of Red Poet on the stage at the Blue Heart. ‘He wants to offer you the staring role in his play.’ Gazza’s voice came out fast, excited. ‘Only this time it won’t be staged in the graveyard, but in the watering hole of the heart. If you’re not there by midnight, he says he’ll use your understudy. And it’s a private audience only, so don’t think about issuing any invitations.’

Shitshitshit.

Freddie thumped his hands on the counter. ‘He means Katie, doesn’t he? For God’s sake, Genny, what does the bastard
want
?’

Gazza spewed another stream of abuse and Freddie shoved the cloth back in his mouth.

Katie.

The count, aka Red Poet - the leader of the fang-gang - had got her at the Leech & Lettuce, and I had to get her out. My heart squeezed in my chest and for a moment I couldn’t think, didn’t know what to do.

Then I remembered Finn and the spell. I had to find him.
Can’t do two things at once.
I grabbed Freddie’s arm. ‘You have to phone Old Scotland Yard. You need to speak to Detective Sergeant Hugh Munro.’

He snatched up an order pad. ‘He’s the big red troll, isn’t he?’

‘Yeah, make sure you speak to him, or one of the other trolls. Lamber or Taegrin. They’ll know what to do!’ I shook Freddie. ‘Tell them that Katie is being held at the Leech & Lettuce in Sucker Town. It’s a blood house, they’ll know the one.’ I watched, impatient, as he started writing it down. ‘I have to find Finn first, he’s in trouble too, but tell Hugh I’ll meet him down there as soon as I can.’

Freddie glanced up from his careful writing. ‘I saw Finn go into the office about an hour ago. Don’t think he’s come out yet.’

‘Great! Thanks, Freddie,’ I shouted as I ran out into the empty café. I pushed the closed sign to one side to turn the lock, then raced across the street to Spellcrackers.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

T
he 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.