Bad Blood: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Bonds of Blood Book 2)

by Cate Corvin

  “If you think I’m anything like my mother, you’re wrong.” The thought that I could be bought as easily as Mom was galling. Maybe I was trash in his eyes.

  But goddamnit, I wasn’t a gold-digger. I got off the bed, striding to the door, but his voice had me pausing in mid-step.

  “I know you’re not. That doesn’t change the fact that my father wants you, too. You don’t know what he’s really like. I’m sorry I called you a snake, Tori- I already knew a snake, and every time you think you’re manipulating him to your own ends, keep in mind: he’s manipulating you, too.” Will was unsmiling now, his fingers loosely laced together. “Do whatever you need to do to take your vengeance on me. I deserve it. But for your sake, Tori, don’t find yourself in the same position my mother did.”

  “And what position is that, Will?” There were dark shadows under his eyes. Marks of sleeplessness. A deep, brutal grief etched there now that the aloof rich-boy mask had dropped, and a tiny part of me itched to run my hands over his face and comfort him.

  “Trusting him.” He ran a hand over his face, no longer looking at me. “In this case, the enemy of your enemy is not your friend.”

  I glanced at the desk next to me. There was an array of objects scattered across the top- books, daggers, a lighter… and a box half the size of my palm, made of dull gray metal. My heart thumped.

  Besides, no matter how hurt Will looked, I knew exactly what he was capable of.

  “I don’t trust either of you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just like him.” I reached for the box and palmed it silently, slipping it into my jacket pocket. “Keep your advice to yourself, Will. I’m not falling for your bullshit a second time.”

  He didn’t look up. I left him sitting silently in his room, my heart pounding, hand clenched around one of Will’s secrets. No one accosted me on the way back to my room.

  When I got inside, I locked the door behind me and pulled out the box, incongruously heavy for its size, and ran a nail along the welded edge. It was made of cold iron, roughly-forged, with a tiny latch.

  I flipped it open. A thumb drive fell into my waiting palm. Anger jolted through me alongside the wonder at the simplicity of their plan. They’d sneaked the camera past the atrium Faerie inside cold iron, one of the few shields against their ambient magic.

  Smart, sly motherfuckers.

  Now it was my turn to show them how sly I could be.

  The thumb drive was on my mind all night and into the next day, to the point that Aislin had to elbow me into paying attention in Knightley’s class.

  I had a suspicion of the exact video that drive contained, but with my laptop back in Godalming Manor, where it was of absolutely no use to me, all I could do was speculate until I made it to a public library.

  Or Càel’s computer. He was very impressed with Google, seemingly under the impression that a wise old man was speaking to him as an augury through the screen. I still had no idea if he was serious or joking, or maybe a little of both.

  Either way, I needed to pull my head out of the clouds if I wanted to surpass Will’s grades. No matter what was on that thumb drive, this was integral to bringing him down. My stepbrother, asshole though he was, could easily take the top spot in our class if he had a mind to.

  I glanced up from my notes. Will wasn’t writing anything, just staring into middle space with a crease between his brows.

  I’d discounted everything he’d said last night… but what if there was finally some truth to his words? Percival did give me the heebie-jeebies, even while he was piling credit cards, jewelry, and scholarships on my head.

  I scowled and ripped my eyes away from Will, trying to ignore Sura’s harsh glare.

  Go with your gut, Tori, Jim-Jam whispered in my head. My hand tightened around my pencil. What I wouldn’t give to see his smile right now when I needed it most.

  By the time we got to Ermengol’s class, my nerves were fraying at the edges. Even Aislin’s newfound warmth towards me when the instructor assigned us a new practical mission didn’t manage to take the edge off.

  “You’ve had classroom instruction and some amount of practical experience on Fae tactics,” Ermengol said, pacing in front of the two groups. She held out slips of paper in either hand, which Will and Aislin dutifully retrieved. “And you’re running out of time to make a good impression on me. If you graduate this year incapable of handling minor Fae, you won’t last long into adulthood. It’s time to pull your heads out of your asses and figure it out.”

  Will was already dividing his team into groups, issuing firm instructions on who was to do what. I caught the gist of it- a camp of goblins had taken up residence in a subway tunnel- but Aislin’s sharp whistle split the air and caught my attention.

  “We’ve got kelpies,” she said, examining the slip of paper. “They don’t usually congregate, but there’s a whole herd of them in the Hudson.”

  We loaded ourselves with cold iron, placed sprigs of rowan and pinches of salt in our boots, and squeezed into a cacodemon-driven limo. Beatrice sat across from me, unsmiling this time.

  She knew as well as I did that it was down to blood now. She’d threatened to slice off my breast- bitch wasn’t getting away with that. Even though her face seemed permanently bruised from my retributions, it didn’t seem like enough.

  All I had to do was remember the shreds of James’s picture in the toilet, the sensation of wheeling into empty space above a pit of snakes, and any hint of trepidation I might’ve had about going after her and settling this the permanent way evaporated into nothing.

  Aislin assigned us roles as the demons drove. I started out of my reverie when she got to me. “You’re with me and Glover, Holmwood.”

  I glanced at her sideways, but she didn’t explain herself, still examining the parameters of the practical given to us.

  It was entirely possible she’d kept us with her to babysit us. Our hate for each other was no secret, and given the chance, Beatrice and I would be at each other’s throats in a heartbeat.

  Eventually, the limo pulled over, discharging us on an access road in the middle of nowhere without so much as a streetlamp to light our way. The air was brackish and green, and the ground squished under my boots.

  Aislin’s hand rested on the hilt of her cold iron sword. With the bright light of the full moon painting the edges of her blue-black hair and sharp features with silver, she could almost pass for Fae herself. “We’re going to handle this as bloodlessly as possible. I’m going to negotiate with their leader, but don’t think for a second that the pretty little sea-ponies are harmless- they’re deadly. Keep your hands and feet out of the water, and for God’s sake, don’t look into their eyes. They’ll have you on their backs before you know what’s happened.”

  Juno Endelyn grumbled something to Silas Vaughan, and the corner of Aislin’s mouth twitched. “Say that again for me, Juno?”

  The taller girl straightened up. “Nothing, prefect, ma’am.” Whatever she’d been complaining about, it was clearly something Aislin heard a lot. It was almost possible to see her restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

  “I grew up in a Fae-heavy area, you ass-clowns. If you want to be dragged to the bottom of the river and gutted, by all means, feel free to ignore my advice.” Aislin glared at her team, one by one, and finally relaxed a little when she got to me.

  I ignored the happy little glow in my chest. We weren’t friends. We didn’t have anything in common.

  I wasn’t desperate for friendship. No sir, not me.

  “Spread out. Search for any mortal remains; the least we can do is ensure their victims’ bodies are found and given a proper burial. But keep my advice in mind, Juno. The Fae aren’t all fun and games.”

  Aislin beckoned for Beatrice and me to join her, and the whispers of our teammates faded into the distance as we walked. The road gave way to unsteady marshland, but Aislin managed to find a relatively stable surface for us to walk on until we made it to the edge of the broad river. City
lights lit the water from the other side.

  Besides the natural chop and current of the brown water, there was no sign of anything amiss on the river. I held my breath as Aislin knelt at the river’s edge, my fingers gripping the hilt of my cold iron sword.

  The kelpies rose like the Gravesend Bay mermaids: dark horses silently breaking the surface of the water, round eyes gleaming a phosphorescent yellow. Limp, damp hair hung like seaweed over speckled necks and wide, flat cheeks.

  Aislin rose from her crouch, frowning. “These are all mares. I need the stallion.” As she spoke, a whistle sounded upstream from Silas’s group. “Good. Hopefully he’s got it.”

  “We’ll watch the mares, Liddell,” I said when she cast a considering eye at Beatrice, clearly loathe to leave us alone, but the practical had to get done. Aislin heaved a sigh and strode upstream, picking her way through the marshy ground.

  As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, my heart started thumping in my chest like a staccato drumbeat. It was just Beatrice and me, alone on an isolated riverbank, late at night, surrounded by bloodthirsty river-horses.

  Just the way I wanted it.

  8

  Tori

  “Don’t get too close to the edge, Glover. Oh wait, maybe you should. Do the world a favor and take yourself out.”

  Beatrice sneered at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Please. Maybe you should go first, Brotherfucker.”

  Red pulsed at the edges of my vision. “I might be a brotherfucker, but at least I’m not an absolute cunt.” Beatrice scoffed, her back still to the river, but she didn’t move.

  As with Will and Apolline, I felt the need to ask why, even though I knew there was no satisfaction forthcoming. I had no idea why I had to ask each of them, as though anyone had an answer that made sense or absolved them of guilt, except maybe to justify why they’d done it. Like maybe I did deserve it on some level.

  I was distantly aware that I was blaming myself for what they’d done… and even Beatrice deserved last words. “Why did you choose me?”

  Her dark eyes ran over me from head to toe. Water sloshed behind her. She didn’t notice, because she was wasting her last moments alive putting every ounce of effort into showing me her contempt.

  “Holmwood, all you need to know is that you never belonged with us. Not you, not your useless brother. It’s a shame the Naga didn’t eat you and save Will all the trouble he went through.”

  A heavy, dripping hoof landed on the bank. I kept my eyes glued to Beatrice’s face as her lip curled, ignoring the magnetic draw of those phosphorescent eyes with every fiber of willpower I had.

  “That’s all? You destroyed my brother’s last memory because I’m from a trailer park? Seems weak to me.”

  Moonlight shimmered off inky withers. Steam rose from the kelpie’s nostrils, curling into strange shapes before it dissipated.

  Ride on me, mortal. Come to me. The voice in my head was distinctly feminine, but it left me with the impression of cold river sludge in my mind. Come taste the sea astride my back.

  Not me, kelpie, I thought back furiously, my hand so tight on my cold iron sword that my arm ached. Her.

  The mare dropped her head but made no sound. That magnetic tug in my mind came to a halt.

  “Because you’re what’s wrong with slayers,” Beatrice said quietly, her voice all venom. “The clans are getting smaller, Shadowed Worlders more powerful. When we start letting the riffraff in, we weaken our own bloodlines. I deserved to stand by Will, not you.”

  “What do you mean?” I breathed. Finally. After weeks of wondering what I’d done to earn Beatrice’s hate, here it was.

  “My mother was meant to marry Lord Godalming until yours butted in. Like mother, like daughter- I’m sure all she had to do was spread her legs-” The kelpie exhaled on Beatrice’s shoulder, and the other slayer stopped speaking abruptly. Fear shone in her eyes for a bare second before she turned and found the kelpie nose-to-nose with her.

  The glazed look of the Faerie-struck slid over Beatrice’s features.

  I swallowed a hard lump in my throat as Beatrice leaned forward, meeting the kelpie’s gaze dead-on as the rest of her body slouched into vulnerability. “All the way to the sea?” she asked dreamily.

  The kelpie wasn’t speaking to me anymore, but I was sure she was selling Beatrice all manner of castles in the air- or rather, river. She was probably describing the pearl-paved riverbed at that very moment.

  “Will we see mermaids?” Beatrice asked, woodenly jerking to the kelpie’s side and gripping a handful of sopping-wet mane.

  The Fae-horse flashed a triumphant look my way, and the pit of my stomach soured.

  Was I really going to let Beatrice ride off on a Faerie’s back, to be drowned in terror and eaten, all because of a photograph?

  The insidious half of me whispered yes, let her die. Savor her last moments. Cruelty for cruelty.

  It wasn’t just the photograph, after all. It was the constant brutality, pushing me into my worst nightmare, helping Will, taking his money for a petty vengeance. Threatening to mutilate me.

  But the half of me that wavered on that doorstep between revenge and retaining my humanity begged me to save her. This was everything I’d dedicated my life against. It wasn’t too late.

  Beatrice pulled herself onto the kelpie’s back, her fingers woven through the weedy mane. I growled low in my throat, my resolve trembling, and finally drew my sword. “Beatrice. Get off the kelpie.”

  The words came out garbled and incoherent, my tongue refusing to cut through the kelpie’s glamour. The river-horse flicked her tail and sprayed cold, silty water in my face, binding my mouth. With a high-pitched whinny that cut through my eardrums like a drill and sent me to my knees, she cantered over the riverbank and plunged into the depths of the water, with Beatrice still on her back.

  I stared at the rippling circles, water dripping from my eyelashes and into my open mouth. She was gone, just like that.

  I dropped on my knees at the edge of the river, my hands hovering just above the water. I couldn’t go in; I couldn’t pull her back. The river was their domain.

  Two gleaming yellow lights grew in the depths, becoming brighter as another kelpie surfaced. The dark head broke the water, so close I could’ve reached out and stroked its long, angular face.

  She finds bliss beneath the skin of the sea, the kelpie said. I gazed into its glowing eyes, caught in its stare. I almost felt the brine filtering through my lungs, the gentle ebb and flow of water against my skin. I am here for you. Ride with me to the depths of the ocean.

  “You drowned her,” I whispered, struggling to breathe. The air was so thin and weak, it couldn’t fill my lungs. All I had to do was dive beneath the waves and this awful choking would stop.

  There are so many secrets you will never find on land, mortal. The sea calls us. Ride with me.

  I dug my fingers into the mud and forced myself to complete one action: yanking my eyes away. I looked down. A hoofprint was stamped into the moss of the bank between my hands. “No. Bring her body back, goddamnit.”

  The kelpie exhaled, blowing a fine mist across my hands and face. She is ours.

  “Kelpie. Retrieve our companion and leave this one alone.” A harsh voice cut through the Fae creature’s web of glamour. I looked up, catching sight of the kelpie without its magic clouding my eyes: it was a horse, but a skeletal, starved one, with hollows between its ribs.

  Aislin rode the kelpie’s leader, a stallion. The bony river-horse picked his way along the bank, shaking his head when he reached us. His two front hooves pounded to a halt only inches from my leg.

  Aislin slid from the kelpie’s back, and the stallion waded into the river without so much as a ripple. It is too late. I felt the male voice in my head, even more commanding than the mare’s. We are starving. There is nothing left of her.

  My prefect touched my shoulder, and the din of the kelpie’s voice in my head faded to a background roar. I rose on shaky k
nees, realizing I’d dropped my cold iron sword. The mare’s glamour had been woven around me so neatly I hadn’t realized I didn’t even have a real weapon in my hand.

  Aislin took a deep breath and released it, her fists clenched at her sides. “Then go starve in the ocean. You’ll leave the humans alone here.”

  The stallion reared out of the water with a scream, kicking at the waves with his hooves. Aislin’s mouth thinned. “Don’t call me that.” So, they were having a private conversation now.

  Guilt was a low, steady churn in my gut. All my fault. Beatrice had died in only seconds and it was all my fault.

  “It’s not your fault, Tori.” Fuck. I’d spoken aloud. Aislin leveled a glare on the stallion. “They’re hungry. They would’ve taken any weak bait. I shouldn’t have left you two alone with them.”

  The kelpies had gathered in a herd, almost twenty heads bobbing on the water’s surface. Some were still licking their lips, mottled tongues running over unnaturally sharp teeth.

  “Get moving,” Aislin said softly. “Your glamour doesn’t work on me.”

  The stallion gave her a long last look, silently communicating something, and Aislin’s lips twisted. They sank into the waves, the ripples on the water heading downstream towards the ocean.

  We watched them go, and I finally knelt and picked up my sword. When I stood, she was watching me, a strange expression on her fey features. “You don’t mention that I rode the kelpie, and I don’t mention that you were alone with Beatrice,” she said. “Nobody has to know.”

  “You don’t… you don’t blame me? I could’ve warned her.” I slid the sword back in its sheath. Under the thin veneer of guilt, the black ocean of hate in my mind was bubbling in satisfaction. The bitch had got what was coming. There wasn’t even enough left of her to bury.