Bloodfire

by Helen Harper

Page 33

 

  I resisted the urge to call out, not knowing what might decide to answer. The door to the office was open, and I glanced in, seeing paper strewn all over the place as if a miniature hurricane had swept in, caused utter havoc, and then immediately faded away. I continued forward, holding my breath. Where the fuck were they all?

  I jogged to the gym and checked inside. Nothing. My chest felt tight and I was getting more and more panicked. Those fucking faeries! If I’d been here then I could have helped. A sound came from deeper in the bowels of the keep. I froze. It had sounded as if it was coming from the kitchen. A quick clatter of something falling to the ground. I tightened my jaw and tiptoed in that direction.

  Pressing my back against the wall, I pushed open the door with one hand then peered around. The table was on its side, but I couldn’t make out anything else. I was about to move into the doorway when something launched itself at me, biting and into my arm with sharp teeth and growling viciously. Despite the pain, I felt a wave of relief.

  “Tom! It’s me!” The growling continued and his fangs sank deeper into my flesh. It was as if he’d not heard me. “Tom! It’s Mack. Look at me!”

  The rumble in his throat died and a pair of pale yellow eyes gazed up at me balefully. He immediately released my arm. Blood was streaming down it, and I could see a smear of red on his teeth. His huge tongue lapped at his lips for a second and he looked briefly puzzled. Then, he turned back into the kitchen and I followed, grabbing a dish towel hanging on a hook and wrapping it around the wounds.

  “Tom, what the fuck is going on? Where is everyone?”

  He whined, but didn’t turn back to look at me. Instead he padded out of the kitchen and through the small door that led into Julia’s herb garden. I had no choice but to follow. What met my eyes when we emerged back into the cool night air was a scene of controlled chaos. Limp bodies lay around the space, with shifters in various stages of transformation tending to them. Part of me noted the squashed herbs underfoot and thought of how angry Julia would be when she saw what had happened to her precious plants. But then I saw Julia.

  She was lying in a corner, face turned away from me. Her arm was broken, and spread at an awkward angle. A man I’d never seen before was crouched down beside her. It looked like her right leg had been ripped off at the knee. Corrigan was stood, naked from the waist up but wearing jogging bottoms below, with his arms folded. He was staring down at her with a look of intense worry and concentration. Several members of the pack were doing the same. I spotted Lynda, with tears running down her face, clinging onto Anton for support. Betsy was there too, and Johannes, both covered in blood.

  I was rooted to the spot with fear and felt my tongue cleave its way to the roof of my mouth. Was she…?

  “She’s not dead,” a soft voice said beside me. It was Lucy. I ripped my eyes away from Julia, even the image of her broken body was still seared into my eyeballs, and looked at her blankly. She was pale and clearly still in a lot of pain after the ispolin’s attack. No doubt the Brethren doctor had helped her already impressive regenerative powers, but she still would need a considerable amount of time to heal. I wondered if she’d been involved in the fighting despite that fact and felt frustration that even a shockingly wounded shifter had been there to help when I hadn’t. She continued, “She’s not far off though. The Doc will do what he can for her, make her comfortable, but…” her voice trailed off.

  I found my voice. “What happened?”

  “We were attacked. I don’t know by what. The mage is trying to work out what they are. They came completely without warning, from the front and the back. A few got in through the doors,” she nodded towards the other side of the keep, “and others came here. Your alpha was in the garden. I don’t think she had time to even shift. We’ve lost three other shifters altogether. ”

  I wanted to ask if they were Brethren or pack but I didn’t dare. Lucy understood though and her gaze hardened slightly. “They were ours, not yours. ”

  She limped away inside, back ramrod straight. I couldn’t worry about her hurt feelings right now though so I turned back to Julia but caught Corrigan’s eyes blazing angry gold at me instead.

  “I called you. Why weren’t you here?” he snarled.

  The other shifters looked at me. I could the weight of their accusing glares and my whole body tensed. I’d failed them, and Julia. Again.

  “I…was trapped. There was a faerie ring,” I stuttered.

  He took a step closer, and his eyes seared into me. “Then how did you escape?”

  “I don’t know. After I heard your Voice – and Julia’s – I hit the edge of the ring. A lot. And then it gave way. I don’t know why. ” I was aware that my voice was high-pitched with stress, trying to justify to everyone listening that my reasons for not being present to protect the keep were genuine.

  “That’s not possible. Did you have iron?”

  I shook my head, mutely.

  He towered over me. “Seems awfully convenient, that this is the time you chose to suddenly get yourself trapped by the Fae. And then miraculously escape. ”

  Now I felt angry. Was he insinuating that I’d deliberately excused myself so that the keep could be attacked? “If I’d had a choice, I would have been here, my lord. ” I placed heavy sarcastic emphasis on the word. “I would not have abandoned my pack. And I think that between the terrametus and the ispolin, I’ve proven my loyalty. I was stupid and I didn’t look where I was going but if you’re trying to suggest that I’m some kind of traitor…”

  “And yet, even with the ispolin, you still didn’t shift, when you could have. ”

  “And you know my reasons for that. ” At least my pack knew my reasons for that, anyway.

  He glowered at me with the threat of violence contained within the stance of his body. “I’d compel you to tell me everything, Miss Mackenzie, and yet I wonder if it would work after, as you say, what happened with the terrametus. ”

  Oh what a tangled web we weave. I opened my palms to him, in a marked display of submission. He seemed to be getting closer and closer to the truth. But once I got inside the portal, then it wouldn’t matter. Because either I’d kill Iabartu or she’d kill me. And in killing her, her portal would close and I wouldn’t be able to return. Fucking Corrigan and his clever eyes, and the fucking Brethren with their all too obvious air of superiority, would never find out I was human. Despite Alex’s clever assertions to the contrary, I knew I felt human. I couldn’t for the life of me really contemplate being anything else. There was the bloodfire, sure, but I didn’t really have any special skills that I’d not gained through hard work and years of training. Wanting to be a shifter wouldn’t make me one. And, anyway, being human would not stop me from redeeming myself and getting revenge for John, Julia, and everyone else.

  The shifter, probably the doctor, who’d been crouched down by Julia interrupted us. “My Lord Corrigan, we need to move her inside. I will try my best to heal her but she may be too far gone. ”

  I felt ill and briefly shut my eyes before forcing them open again. Corrigan nodded briskly and looked at me. “The keep’s perimeter needs to be repaired. You will make sure that it is. And then you had better get that taken care of. ” He looked pointedly at the bite marks from Tom. Although blood still dripped from them, soaking into the dishtowel, I didn’t feel any pain. Not physical pain, anyway.

  I motioned acquiescence and fixed my attention on Julia. “Anything she needs,” I said to the doctor, “anything at all, tell me. ”

  Corrigan growled at me, but the doctor nodded in sympathy. I hitched my backpack on my shoulder and went inside.

  Chapter Twenty One

  I couldn’t shake the image of Julia’s broken body from my mind. I wasn’t sure if I could cope if she died as well as John. Oily nausea rolled through the pit of my belly; I only just made it to the bathroom in the time to retch up the meager contents of my stomach. r />
  Splashing cold water on my face, I stared miserably at my pale reflection in the little mirror. I was supposed to help protect my pack. Instead, as long as the Brethren were around, my presence endangered them. Not only that, but when they really needed me I hadn’t been here. No wonder Corrigan had looked ready to murder me. If I could stick to my plan, and get inside the portal, then I’d just have to hope that I could make things right.

  I walked back out into the hall and made my way to the front door. Pragmatically speaking, fixing the entrance seemed to be the best way to secure the keep. Not least because if we didn’t then anyone who came knocking, such as the local postman first thing tomorrow morning, would immediately think that some kind of massacre had taken place. Which it actually had. Iabartu was kicking our butts.

  Johannes joined me, shaking his head sadly. “Sad days these, lass, sad days. ” He was carrying a toolbox which I took from him.

  “What’s happening, J? I don’t understand why we keep being targeted. ”

  “Aye,” he said heavily. “We have summat that someone wants. Trouble is, we dinna know what. ”

  I thought about that, and what I’d uncovered so far. Was this related somehow to the Draco Wyr that Craw had mentioned? But then, I could pretty much lay my hand on my heart and attest to the fact that we were not hiding any dragons anywhere. We weren’t concealing anything, other than that we were a bunch of shapeshifters. Perhaps Iabartu had something against the were. But then that didn’t make any sense because why would she target us in isolation? Why not go straight to the heart of the shifters and aim for the Brethren in London? Strategically it was a stupid move.

  Johannes moved the door back into position and held it, whilst I clambered up on a ladder and started to connect the hinges back into place. It was awkward getting this done with a dishtowel wrapped round my arm, but not impossible. I pulled out a heavy iron nail. If only I’d had this in my pocket a few hours ago. I pushed it into the hinge bracket and began hammering, imagining that it was Iabartu’s face that I was hitting. I just couldn’t think of anything that we had that a demi-god would so desperately want. Up until now, I hadn’t examined in much detail what her motives might be, but perhaps if I could understand why she was doing this, I’d have more chance of understanding her. Know thy enemy.