I knew how she must’ve felt, all those years of hiding out, thinking the fae would reject her for her tainted blood, since I’d thought exactly the same thing … except I’d only had myself to worry about.
‘I’m sure they’ll accept you both,’ I said, swallowing back the angry lump in my throat. And if they didn’t, I’d make them. ‘Oh, and don’t worry about Andy’s blood problem,’ I said, ‘we’ll sort it out.’
She gave a tremulous smile. ‘Thank you, Genevieve.’
‘Oh, call me Genny.’ I smiled back, ‘And, er, I was wondering what Andy is?’
‘Oh, she’s a Norwegian Elkhound,’ Ana said happily.
I blinked. ‘Sorry?’
‘Oh!’ More embarrassed heat rose in Ana’s cheeks. ‘Sorry, I get so used to people asking me when I take her for walks.’ She laughed nervously. ‘I don’t know what she is exactly. The nearest I’ve been able to work out is she’s a dhampir, but I’m not sure if that’s entirely right.’ She gave another tremulous smile.
But before we could talk more, loud barking cut through the air, and we both turned to see Andy’s green fur disappear beneath half a dozen goblins. A stream of water shot out of the fountain, drenching the tussle. No one was hurt, just wet and bedraggled, and I bit back a grin as Ana hurried over to impose efficient motherly order.
Then Finn found me.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Finn led me to a quiet bench. His moss-green eyes were solemn as pulled me into a hug. ‘Thank you, Gen,’ he murmured, ‘for getting Nicky back.’ I wrapped my arms round him and breathed in his familiar warm berry scent and listened as he told me about Nicky. She was pregnant – nearly four months gone, so sadly, Helen’s plan to swap me for Nicky wouldn’t have saved her, even if I had been able to agree to it – and now Nicky was going with the Stepfords to stay with the Morrígan. Worryingly, the records Ana had given to Hugh didn’t say whether Nicky’s pregnancy was a surrogacy or not. My heart broke for them both and I held him for a long time as his angry, anxious tears dampened the curve of my neck. And desperately wished things could’ve been different.
‘I have to get back to Nicky,’ he said once the storm had passed. ‘Walk out to the car with me?’ We stopped before we reached the road and its rumble of traffic, and with the party buzz behind us, we were left in an oasis of quiet. He cupped my face with his warm gentle hands and kissed me. A hot, gentle touch of his lips on mine that sent my pulse tripping and thrilled me down to my toes.
After a while, he said quietly, ‘I’m going with Nicky, Gen.’ He paused, and gave me an echo of his old smile. ‘Come with us?’
For a long, heart-searching moment I imagined it … but much as I wanted to find out what was between Finn and me now there wasn’t a matchmaking curse hanging about, and much as I knew I’d miss him, Nicky needed her dad without any other complications or distractions.
I stood there long after his car pulled away, staring up at the lighted walkways of Tower Bridge, thinking of Finn and what the future might hold … and Malik’s pale, perfect face slipped into my mind … they both attracted me in different ways … and they both touched my heart—
‘Och, doll,’ Tavish’s soft burr came out of the darkness, ‘dinna fash yerself, the kid’ll be back.’ I turned cautiously to find him watching me, an indecipherable glint in his pewter eyes. ‘And so will the vampire, more’s the pity.’
He walked forward and took hold of my left wrist. I felt a pulse of warmth, and the beaded Charm spell bracelet appeared. The telephone box and the London bus were gone, removed by Ricou when Hugh and I had been plotting our master plan at Dead Man’s Hole, but the other charms remained, and glinting back among them was Malik’s platinum ring.
He’d given it back to me. But was it just a failsafe for if I was in trouble and needed to contact him, or something more? Part of me, a part I didn’t want to examine too closely just now, wanted it to be something more.
I frowned at Tavish. ‘You don’t sound like you want Malik to come back. But he tells me you’re his ally?’
‘Aye, so I am,’ his expression hardened, ‘until I’ve disposed of his Master for him, and then maebe we’ll see.’
Malik wanted Tavish to kill the Autarch? Now that was an idea I could get behind a million per cent— Except, troublingly, Tavish didn’t look like he could swat a kitten right now. Still, he looked way better than when I’d left him with a bull’s horn spearing his stomach. Hopefully he’d forgiven me …
‘Um, about what happened with the Morrígan,’ I said anxiously, ‘did you find a way to remove the protection from the Fertility spell and crack the curse?’
‘Aye, doll,’ he said, his beaded dreads clicking firmly, ‘Ana came to an agreement with her, so dinna fash yoursel’ about it.’
‘Oh, good,’ I said, both grateful to Ana for whatever she’d agreed, and determined to find out what it was. ‘Um … what about the Chastity spell you tagged me with?’
‘It’ll wear off in time, doll.’ He gave an unconcerned wave that didn’t convince me one bit.
I frowned. ‘You do know the “horn in the stomach” bit wasn’t personal … ?’
‘Aye, and ’twas a guid trick you played on the Morrígan, and it’s all worked out for the best in the end’ – he grinned, serrated teeth white against his green-black skin, and I flinched: maybe I wasn’t quite forgiven yet – ‘but nae doubt you can think of a way tae make it up tae me?’
Then again, he was a tricky wylde fae, so forgiveness was going to come at a price. I narrowed my eyes. ‘What does “make it up to you” mean?’
Just as he was about to tell me, Sylvia rushed up, her pink cycle helmet askew, and enveloped me in a cherry-blossom-scented hug. ‘Gosh, Genny, you’ll never guess what?’ Her eyes shone with joy. ‘I’m with child. The first full-blood fae in eighty years. That’s why we’re all having the party.’ Ricou stood behind her, his mouth open in his wide yawn-grin, and his headcrest proudly erect.
‘Wow,’ I said, stunned, and returned her beaming smile with one of my own, then had a weird nauseous moment as Helen’s ‘baby memory’ kicked back in, and the sapphire pendant with its Fertility spell appeared in Sylvia’s ‘Hello, Boys!’ cleavage, tucked next to Grace’s gold pentacle. ‘Congratulations’ – I hugged her again – ‘that’s amazing news, and really, really superfast!’
‘I kno-ow!’ Sylvia squealed in delight. ‘The baby’s going to be a Christmas seedling; isn’t that totally wonderful?’
It was utterly and unbelievably wonderful. And Sylvia’s news lifted a thousand-ton weight off my shoulders. Now the fae’s fertility was returned, and working, I wasn’t the one who had to have a child to break the curse. Relief overwhelmed me, and I made my excuses, then found a quiet corner to try and take it all in.
Tavish joined me, leaning his shoulder against the bronze-plaque wall, his expression curious. ‘I heard tell the witch knocked you out, then almost stripped you in her efforts to retrieve the spell?’
Well, that explained why my clothes had been trashed. ‘Good job I gave it to one of the vamps’ – Darius, my fang-pet – ‘to give to Sylvia then.’ I shot him a wry smile. ‘I wasn’t sure who else was after it, or for what.’
He traced the neckline of my T-shirt. ‘And I’m joyful tae see you nae wearing your friend’s pentacle, doll. It wasnae right tae hold her soul so long after its time.’
Tears stung my eyes – my own, this time. It had taken me a while to realise that it was Grace who was the one upset and causing me to cry, and that until I’d given the pentacle to Sylvia, Grace couldn’t move on. ‘I hope she’s happy,’ I murmured, ‘wherever she is.’
‘Well, doll, I’m thinking this will maebe cheer you up.’ He touched his hand to my forehead and muttered something under his breath, then pointed at Sylvia. ‘Look quickly now, for my loan of the sight ’twill nae last long.’
Sylvia was surrounded by a soft sheen of magic, and within it was a beautiful, shifting pattern, like glossy leaves d
appled with sun and shadow – her soul, protected by her aura, I realised in wonder. But the truly breathtaking sight was the radiant star of hot-gold light that graced her throat and trailed a stream of pure fire to the almost imperceptible glow flickering to life in her womb.
I stared in stunned amazement until the lights and colours round Sylvia dimmed and she was back to looking like her usual self, and a feeling of peace settled in me.
‘Och, doll, there’s nae need for tears,’ Tavish’s soft burr came beside me. ‘’Tis the way of life for souls to take up with a new shell, and now you’ll ken where your friend will be.’
I brushed my hand over my face, wiping away the wetness there and smiled. ‘Thank you,’ I said, and kissed his cheek.
‘A kiss is fine thanks, but ’tis more than that I’m wanting.’ His mouth curved in a sly smile as he handed me a letter.
I shot him a puzzled look, then opened it. I read it and looked up in shock. ‘This says that I’m the new owner of Spellcrackers?’ I checked the date. ‘Since two days ago?’
‘Aye, apparently you dinna like to be telt what’s what by your boss.’
‘I can’t take this,’ I said, holding it out to him. ‘Spellcrackers belongs to Finn.’
‘Och, doll, if you dinna take it, then the kid will nae have a thing to come back to.’ He pulled a disgusted face. ‘The herd will give it tae one of his prissy brothers.’
That didn’t sound good. ‘Well, in that case—’ I folded it up and slipped it in my pocket. ‘I’ll keep it for now.’
Tavish picked me up and swung me round, then planted a much-too-happy kiss on my mouth. ‘So, now you’re the new boss, I’m thinking you’re about tae give me a job and make things up t’me.’
‘You don’t need a job,’ I said drily, wondering what he was up to.
He chuckled. ‘What’s need got to do wi’ it, when you’ve a Chastity spell that needs cracking, and I’ve always had a hankering to be the fae’s Sam Spade.’ He flung an arm round my shoulders and winked. ‘But that’s for tomorrow, doll, for now, come and join in the celebrations.’
Read more about Genny’s
adventures in
THE SHIFTING PRICE OF PREY
Coming soon from Gollancz
Acknowledgements
Writing a book is part fun, part challenge, part tearing-out-of-hair and all hard work, and this book turned out to be harder work than most. But any book isn’t just hard work for the author, but for all those folk who encourage and support it on its way from shiny new idea, through pounding of keyboards, those bad hair days and on to publication. My deepest thanks and appreciation to everyone who have helped this book on that journey; any errors are all my own.
Thanks to John Jarrold, my intrepid agent, for his belief in me, to the Gollancz crew for their support and commitment, and especially to Jo Fletcher, editor extraordinaire, for her patience and excellent work in continuing to make my books so much better; and for buying three more of Genny’s adventures. Yay!
Thanks to David (Eagle Rising) Devereux for letting me bend his ear about ‘dead bodies’; to Gareth Wilson (Falcata Times) for kindly lending his name to one of my characters; and a special shout-out to the wonderful Mardel (Rabid Reader) for all her epic emails, and for loving Genny & Co.
Thanks to Jaye (the Sabina Kane vampire series) Wells for not only being a stellar crit partner, and a brilliant, funny writer (go buy her books!), but for letting me ‘steal’ – an apple a day keeps the vampires away. Thanks to my superb, superfast beta readers: Hasna Saadani (The Book Pushers) and Amanda Rutter (Floor to Ceiling Books), you ladies rock! And to Karen Duvall, to whom I owe thanks to for her insightful help with The Cold Kiss of Death (mea culpa).
Thanks to the Thursday Writers, a truly inspiring bunch for all their help and encouragement: Malcolm Angel, Alison Aquilina, Judy Monckton, and Doreen Cory, who have travelled this amazing journey with me from the start. And massive thanks to BFF Fiona Mackenzie for her endless suffering through many drafts, her dedication to Genny & Co., and her masterful debunking of the paranoia goblins when the muse deserts me.
To Norman, my love, my best friend, and the light in my life, without you the dreams would not be possible, or mean as much – thank you, now and always.
And last, but not least, to all those readers who have read, enjoyed, and taken my books into their hearts – I hope you enjoy this one, and a huge, huge ‘thank you’ to you all.
Suzanne McLeod
Dorset
August 2010
Copyright
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright © Suzanne McLeod 2011
All rights reserved.
The right of Suzanne McLeod to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
This eBook first published in 2011 by Gollancz.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 0 575 08906 8
This eBook produced by Jouve, France
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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The Bitter Seed of Magic Page 37
