Bloodlust

Nothing happened. I frowned, and shook each hand in the air, utterly confused as to why my hands weren’t transforming into their dragon claws. Were the vamps using some kind of spell?



I looked up, just in time to see my assailant barrelling into me, headfirst. The pair of us fell to the ground. I rolled, managing to get on top of his body and gain the upper hand, but it was only a brief glimmer of success because his elbow went flying into my upper stomach, completely winding me. As I gasped for breath, he twisted so that we switched places again. Then his hands curved round my neck and began to squeeze.



I kicked upwards with my feet, although it was a futile gesture as I missed him entirely. My fingers clawed at his hands, but they were only getting tighter and tighter round my throat. My vision was starting to narrow while my lungs burned, and my bloodfire whimpered, as if it were trying to surge up through my body and take control, but failing completely. As a last ditch attempt, I closed my eyes and attempted to call up my full dragon self, danger be damned. Yet there was nothing there; it was as if I was suddenly empty, devoid of my Draco Wyr side. The wichtlein stone had been for me after all then, I thought dully. At least we’d managed to get the palladium. Balud would get the weapon to Corrigan and he would deal with Endor. I stared upwards at my killer, as his face swam and my head reeled. Then, abruptly, I was released, automatically gulping in fresh air and heaving and coughing.



There was a thud next to me. I twisted my head to the side, only just recognising my attacker’s body. His neck was broken and his eyes were wide open in an unmistakable death stare, although there still seemed to be a mixture of surprise and hatred glaring out at me. Before I could even wonder what had happened, the vamp brought her head down towards my face.



“That worked even better than I thought,” she said, with a bright smile. “An interesting nullifying effect on your skills.”



“What…?” I croaked.



“You still don’t get it, do you?” She laughed. “You should have done more to keep your identity secret, little dragon. He’s part of an ancient order sworn to keep the world free from the scourge of the Draco Wyr. They thought they’d been successful until pictures of you started popping up all over the Othernet. Now they’re galvanized into action, desperate to hunt you down.”



My head swam. “Bolux,” I whispered.



He was a descendant of the warrior who’d killed my great-great-great-whatever and who’d died in the process. The same group of people who had probably been after me when my mother had left me with the pack in Cornwall.



“Oh, I can assure you that it’s not bollocks at all, Miss Smith. There are plenty more where he came from.” She smiled, her sharp white teeth gleaming. “They don’t know where you are just yet. But that doesn’t mean that someone won’t tell them.”



Her face moved away, vanishing from my sight. “Bring Aubrey to us,” her voice said, drifting over to me. “Sooner rather than later.”



I heard the soft purr of an expensive car engine start up, then drive off. I rolled onto my side and stared at the corpse. Outfuckingstanding. One had to wonder where on earth the bloody vamps kept getting all their information from. They had more sodding connections than BT.



I pulled myself to my feet, every muscle in my body screaming in agony. The welcome warmth of my bloodfire signaled its return, flaming up through my veins and arteries. I sent a small prayer of gratitude to whoever might be listening. I may often curse my Draco Wyr heritage and the very many complications that it brought with it, but the idea that the fire within me had vanished for good had been surprisingly terrifying.



From somewhere down the street, a dog barked. I slowly turned, realising there was a figure off in the distance. Someone was taking advantage of the clear quiet night to walk their furry friend. Alarmed, I quickly crouched down, trying to ignore the pain the movement created, and began pushing the dead body to the side of the road. If I could just get it underneath the nearby parked car, then perhaps the night stroller wouldn’t notice it. The dog would, but there was little I could do about that now. I’d just have to hope I could distract the animal somehow. The energy I expended in shifting the corpse, and shoving it under the vehicle, was tremendous. I staggered back up, casting a quick glance to make sure it was hidden, then realised with a lurch that the guy’s feet were sticking out, visible between the two rear wheels. The dog walker was getting closer. Quickly, I kicked them, managing to move them out of the way just in the nick of time, and then leaned casually against the car.



The man, who looked fairly young even though he had greying hair, stared at me through horn-rimmed glasses with a look of frank curiosity. His dog began to pull at its leash, having clearly scented the corpse and wanting to investigate further. He swore, yanking the dog back, but it just started barking instead.



“Quiet, Baxter!” He shushed with a definite Scottish lilt to his voice.



The animal paid him no attention whatsoever. Fuck. I thought quickly. What could I do to get this bloke away from here as soon as possible?



I opened my mouth without thinking, placing one hand on my hip. “Feeling lonely?”



It felt like someone had shoved a kilo of ground glass down my throat. At least an expression of discomfort flashed across the man’s face. He tugged nervously at his t-shirt, which proclaimed something about the wonders of the Burntisland Golf Club, and quickened his step, virtually dragging the dog behind him. I breathed out. Goodness only knew what I would have done if he’d decided he was actually ‘feeling lonely’. Although I imagined that the bruise on my face, and what were now probably the marks of fingers round my throat had helped scare him off. Along with the fact that my voice had sounded rougher than even the Marlboro Man’s could have.



Once I was sure he was out of sight, I considered my options. I had to get rid of the body and I had to do it quickly. I flipped over the possibilities in my mind, then decided on the fastest one.



“Solus,” I whispered.



No answer. Fuck it, I didn’t want to have to make myself bleed; I was already hurting enough as it was.



“Solus, bloody get here right now.”



The air snapped and he suddenly appeared. “Dragonlette, are you really missing me already?”



Despite my condition, I blinked at him. He seemed to be wearing a three piece grey suit. There was even a purple cravat at his neck. Noticing my look, he gave me a twirl.



“What do you think? Is this a look that an academically inclined woman would go for?” Then, he wrinkled his nose before I could say anything, and his violet eyes clouded. “Is there by any chance a dead body underneath this car?”



“Bolux,” I croaked.



Solus looked momentarily confused, then his expression was replaced with appalled comprehension. He noticed the marks on my throat.



“One of the descendants. What exactly did he do to you? I guess he didn’t realise just how powerful you are, dragonlette. It’s fortunate you managed to put him under because it looks like it was a hell of a fight.”



I just stared at the Fae unhappily. He was right that it may have been a hell of a fight, but it certainly hadn’t been me who’d killed him. I hadn’t even managed to slow the guy down. I suddenly felt drained, and my knees began to give way. Solus caught me before I fell.



“Let’s get you back inside.”



I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me, placing a finger on my lips. “It’s okay. I’ll dispose of the body.” Distaste flickered across his eyes. “Somehow.”



Unable to feel anything more than gratitude, I nodded, and allowed him to help me back into the little shop. Aubrey was sitting on the counter, a mug cupped in his hands, and his legs swinging. He was humming away to himself as if he had no cares in the world. When he caught sight of us, however, he jumped off and ran over.



“What happened? Mack, are you alright? Was it Endor?”



I shook my head and pointed Solus towards the back room. We hobbled over together, then I lay myself carefully down on top of the sleeping bag in the corner before I completely collapsed. I could sense him exchanging worried looks with Aubrey, but I just closed my eyes and curled up my bruised and battered body.



Chapter Eighteen



I had thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but it had taken me no time at all to drift into a deep and dreamless coma. I didn’t wake up until Mrs. Alcoon was gently shaking my shoulder and saying my name.



“Mackenzie, dear, you need to get up.”



I stretched out, almost without thinking, and then hissed in pain. I felt even worse than I had the night before.



She tutted loudly. “You can’t be doing this, Mackenzie. You can’t be getting into fights like this. The consequences could be disastrous.”



I thought about how close I’d come to actually snuffing it the night before. She had no idea.



“I’m fine,” I said, sitting up, and trying to look like I was. “Is it time for…” my voice trailed off.



She nodded. “I sent Aubrey round to pick up something appropriate for you to wear. I’m not sure it’s wise for you to go though. Not with the way you are right now. I’m sure your young man will understand.”



The idea of pulling my sleeping bag over my head and just wishing the entire world away was remarkably appealing. But then I thought of Endor. And the weapons (hopefully plural) that Balud was going to bring after Staines’ funeral service. And the odd pleading look in Corrigan’s eyes when he’d asked me to go. I didn’t think about Aubrey, or the bloodsuckers, or the fact that I had a group of undefeatable warriors after me, even though I’d nothing to antagonise them other than being born. Life was just getting far too bloody complicated.



I got up, wavered slightly, then gave Mrs. Alcoon what I hoped was a reassuring glance. “I’ll be fine,” I repeated, more firmly than I felt.



She looked troubled, but left me in peace anyway to change into a depressing black dress. She’d left me a scarf out, either having noticed the marks on my throat while I was sleeping or having heard about them from Aubrey. Either way I was grateful for the thought, and wound it round my neck to cover up. At least the bruise on my face was starting to look a little better, I thought ruefully, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.