The Bitter Seed of Magic (A Spellcrackers Novel) (38 page)

‘Why is having my back-up so important to you that you would do this to obtain it, Genevieve?’

‘Genevieve?’

I blinked. His feelings had come and gone so quickly that if it weren’t for the icy quiet they’d left in their wake, I’d have thought I’d imagined them. I was suddenly aware that maybe I’d misread him. Or he me. Or the situation. ‘This isn’t just about back-up,’ I said slowly. ‘I thought you wanted me, and I wanted you too.’

He regarded me for a long moment, then his expression smoothed back to its usual enigmatic blankness. A warm breeze sprung from nowhere, carrying with it a soothing scent of spice and liquorice, and something else, some fragile emotion I couldn’t quite catch . . .
yearning?

‘Tell me what is so important, Genevieve.’

I sighed, bereft as the feeling dissipated, and the order slipped into my mind. ‘I told you, finding the killer, saving the missing faelings, and ultimately breaking the curse.’

‘You would sacrifice yourself to me for this?’

I half-laughed, incredulous. ‘Malik, offering you blood and sex doesn’t even come close to being a sacrifice.’ My gaze skimmed over the lean perfection of his chest, followed the dark silky hair there as it arrowed down to disappear enticingly beneath his low-slung leather trousers and I only just managed not to drool. ‘It’s not like I’m being a martyr here or anything.’

‘You have just told me you cannot lie, Genevieve, but I wonder. Last night you did not want me to touch you, today you remind me that you would prefer to kill me rather than succumb to me, and now you expect me to believe that you want me willingly?’

‘Wow, for someone who’s got five centuries behind them you’re a bit dense, aren’t you? Last night, I was furious, and damn right, I didn’t want you to touch me. And no, I’m not going to be yours or any other vamp’s mindless little blood-slave, or your over-protected, pampered blood-pet either. And I’ll do whatever it takes so I don’t end up like that. But that wasn’t what I thought was on the table here. Sex and blood I’m more than happy to indulge in.’

‘You say that, and yet you feed Darius by way of a plastic bag.’ His mouth curled in distaste.

‘
What?
’

‘If you are happy to indulge in sex and blood, then what purpose do the bags hold?’

‘C’mon, Malik,’ I said, exasperated, ‘that’s got nothing to do with anything.’

‘Tell me, Genevieve.’

‘Fine. I’m not interested in going to Sucker Town every other night. It’s not the highlight of my social life, and not only that, I’ve got my job’ –
or I did have
. I shoved the thought away; it wasn’t something to worry about now – ‘and other things’ – like reading curse-
cracking
books.
Yep, my life is that exciting.
Of course, I could always do with a little less excitement right now – ‘so the bags are convenient,’ I finished with a scowl.

‘Are you telling me you only indulge in blood and sex with Darius once a week?’

I stared at him in disbelief. Was he not listening to me or something? Or was this some sort of vamp pride thing? Or was he jealous? Nah, that was just wishful thinking – not that I wanted him jealous; his over-protectiveness was already difficult enough to deal with.

‘What is your problem with Darius?’ I demanded.

‘Answer me, Genevieve.’

‘No, I don’t only indulge in blood and sex with Darius once a week.’ There, chew on that nicely ambiguous answer, your Fanged Hotness.

A pinprick of rage flickered in his pupils, then it was gone. ‘How many times a week?’

Damn orders.
‘None,’ I growled.

Astonishment flashed over his face. ‘Why not, if you are happy to indulge so with me?’

Was he really that stupid?
I narrowed my eyes. ‘What the hell’s with the twenty questions?’ And why the hell was he asking them? He was Head Fang: he had his spies all over Sucker Town . . . I could understand him not knowing about Mad Max’s secrets, but surely he had to know about me?

A perplexed line creased between his brows. ‘I am trying to understand why you are offering yourself to me, Genevieve.’

‘Fuck, Malik!’ I threw my hands in the air. ‘I want you. I desire you. I lust after you. My idiotic libido sits up and pants when you’re around. And it’s not like I can hide it: you’re a vamp, you’ve got super-senses, so you must have noticed.’

‘I am aware of how you react to me physically, Genevieve.’ His frown deepened. ‘But you care enough for Darius to take responsibility for his existence, and to put yourself in danger in order to save him. He is by all accounts very . . . talented, and yet you say you have not taken him as your lover. You have not taken any lovers among the fae either, and this suggests that you do not give yourself lightly, therefore the only conclusion I can come to is that despite your evident physical desire for me, you are not truly willing. I do not wish to take advantage of you.’

My mouth dropped open in shock. ‘Okay, this is just way too strange. One: no way am I going to take a lover from the fae, not with a fertility curse hanging over my head, and two: this
seduction
was all your idea. You started it, I just went along for the ride’ –
ha, ha
, and wasn’t that a Freudian slip? Not that I was getting one – ‘I did
not
come here to seduce you. I mean, why would I even think I could? It’s not like you’ve ever had a problem resisting either my body or my blood before. Or now.’

He opened his mouth—

—and I slapped my hand over it, wishing I’d done the same to my own a few seconds ago. ‘Oh no.’ I shook my head. ‘We are so not doing this any more. And don’t you dare think about giving me any orders. You’re the one blowing hot and cold and playing games, so this conversation is over.’

I ducked out beneath his arms, stalked to the wardrobe and threw the doors open. I stared blindly into the dark interior, wondering if I could just crawl in there and hide as the adrenalin high of anger and arousal dissolved into embarrassment. Did I really have to tell him exactly how I felt? And what was that crack about Darius being talented? And what the hell just happened? Other than he’d rejected me –
again
. And,
hello
, why was I even hot and bothered about that? It’s not like I really wanted any sort of actual relationship with him . . . did I? Shit, I should have gone straight to Plan B instead of giving in to a stupid impulse.

Well, I was damn well putting Plan B in action now. I shrugged off my jacket and glanced over my shoulder. He was standing there, arms crossed, a pensive look on his face. I flipped my hand, indicating he should turn round. He didn’t.
Bastard.
‘I want to change, Malik,’ I said sharply, flipping my hand again.

‘I wish to see how your injuries are healing, Genevieve,’ he answered coolly, as if nothing had happened, ‘and I have seen you without your clothes before.’

‘Not by my choice,’ I huffed, ‘and you just lost your chance at that ever again, so either turn round’ – I grabbed a long-sleeved T-shirt and flapped it at the window – ‘or I’ll change outside on the roof.’

His nostrils flared and I tensed, then he turned and gave me his back.

I swapped the silk top for the T-shirt. Damn irritating vamp. I tugged off my high-heeled boots and kicked them under the bed in annoyance. They knocked over the tidy rows he’d left with a thud and I saw his shoulders flinch. Score one for me. I dropped my velvet jeans and caught sight of the Chastity handprint spell on my stomach. Crap, I’d forgotten all about it – weird that the spell hadn’t kicked in when things started getting all steamy with Malik. I grimaced and pulled on a pair of black denims.

‘It was truly not your intention to seduce me, Genevieve?’ Oddly his question sounded . . . regretful? Or maybe that was my stupid, wishful imagination.
And did the damn vamp
never
give up?

‘I came here with a plan,’ I said through gritted teeth, ‘and a half-assed idea that you could help me. But I knew you wouldn’t just say yes, that would be way too easy; you’re a vamp, after all, so I brought my insubstantial carrots and sticks. But then you decided to change the game, and for one stupid, idiotic moment of total insanity, I thought, why the hell not?’ I blew out an indignant breath. ‘I should’ve known better. Oh, and you can stop communing with the wall now. I’m decent.’

He turned, his brow lined in a frown. ‘Why are you changing?’

‘These are my best jeans’ – I shook the velvet jeans out and hung them in the wardrobe – ‘and so far they haven’t got any blood on them. I’m hoping to keep it that way.’ I bent and fished under the bed for some more practical footwear. I slumped on the bed and shoved my feet into the flat ankle boots.

He sat next to me. ‘I am sorry, Genevieve.’ He touched my cheek, a brief, gentle trail of his cool fingers. ‘But I cannot let you leave on this suicide mission.’ His dark spice and leather scent curled round me consoling and remorseful. ‘I have given my word to protect you.’

‘I know. You’ve told me. More than once. But that’s between you and Tavish and whatever the two of you’ve got going on together, it’s got nothing to do with me.’ I stood. Time to leave. ‘Unless of course, you’re prepared to tell me what that is?’ I paused, but he didn’t enlighten me. Figured. ‘Fine, I’ll see you around then. Maybe.’ I took the couple of steps to the door and reached for the handle—

—and, vamp-fast, he was standing between me and the door. ‘Do not force me to do this, Genevieve.’

‘I’m not forcing you to do anything,’ I said flatly. ‘You can come with me and protect me, or not. Your choice.’

‘It is too dangerous.’ Pinpricks of power lit in the depths of his dark eyes. ‘You will not go.’

I winced as the order slammed into my mind. Time to let the beautiful vamp in on the limitations.

‘Malik, even if I appreciated the whole macho-vamp-protection thing, you can’t keep ordering me about. It’s not enough to do the job. Your protection only works when it comes to vamps, and it’s not going to make one iota of difference to anyone else who is determined to come after me. Like, if the two trolls out there came in and took me bodily away, even if the Ward wasn’t there, you couldn’t do anything until after sunset. Come dawn tomorrow you are going to be defenceless, and about as much use as a bodyguard as a leaky boat on the Thames. You’re daylight-challenged, and you always will be.’

Frustration flared in his eyes.

I carried on, ‘Once the killer and Victoria Harrier find out they have a substitute, what do you think they’re going to do? They’re going to dump my doppelgänger and come after who they really want: me. London’s only sidhe. It’s only common sense to stop them before they decide to do that.’

‘This is a matter better left to the police, Genevieve. I will not agree to your participation.’

I laughed: it wasn’t happy. ‘You still don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about you agreeing or not agreeing. You were just my first choice. You’re not the only vamp in town, and if you’re not prepared to go with me, then I know a vamp that will.’

‘Darius is too young and too weak to aid you, Genevieve,’ he said dismissively.

‘I’m not talking about Darius,
my liege
.’ I stuck my hands on my hips and gave him a ‘so-there’ look. Childish, I know, but hey—‘I’m talking about Francine. All I have to do is ask for her help in your name and she’ll give it me. And she’s a kick-ass lady who does a mean line in illusions. Not to mention she hates Maxim, so she’ll be thrilled to coax him into telling the police and me whatever we want to know. Then let’s not forget Cousin Fyodor, and whatever stories he’s got to tell.’ I mimed pulling out a stake. ‘He’s old enough that it won’t take long to get him back into talking order again. Oh, and don’t think your little order about staying out of Sucker Town will make any difference; the police can take me there by force if need be.’

‘No.’

I shot him an impatient glare. ‘What does “No” mean?’

He brushed a hand over his shorn head. ‘No, you do not need to ask Francine for her help,’ he said, conceding with obvious reluctance. ‘I will accompany you, and I will do all in my power to assist you. On two conditions.’

‘Which are?’

‘One: your safety is my prime concern,’ he said firmly. ‘And two: if you are putting yourself in danger, then you should be better prepared physically. You will allow me to heal your injuries first.’

Take his blood? My pulse quickened in anticipation. I wanted to say it wasn’t a good idea, except it was, and we both knew it.

‘Agreed,’ I said, adding, ‘Just being practical,’ at his surprised look. Reaching down to the threshold, I wiped away some of the dried blood and broke the Ward, then opened the door. I nodded at the two trolls standing to attention. ‘We’re going with Plan A,’ I said.

‘Right-o, Genny,’ Constable Lamber said.

‘Plan A, Genevieve?’ Malik raised an elegant, enquiring brow. ‘You are aware that I had ordered you not to leave, and therefore these two gentlemen would not have been able to pass your blood-Ward to retrieve you until it dissipated?’

‘Not true, sir.’ Taegrin held out his hand to me.

‘Plan B,’ I said, taking the red jelly bean from his palm, and the green one that Lamber gave me, and showed them to Malik. ‘Ward-Key spells.’ I’d had a lo-oong chat with Ricou about blood-Wards. ‘A drop of my blood and will in the sweets means they can cross the Ward without breaking it, in the same way I can.’ I tossed the sweeties in my mouth and ate them and their magic with a smug smile. ‘Therefore rendering them able to retrieve me while still leaving you trapped.’

‘Bravo, Genevieve.’ He inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘Speaking of practicalities, how do you intend to take us inside the Tower?’

I pursed my lips. ‘Actually, that’s the difficult bit of the plan. I know someone who can help, but I’m not sure if they will.’ Or what it was going to cost me. I gave Malik a sideways look. ‘We’ll leave off the healing bit until after they’ve agreed.’