‘Right, miles to go,’ I said briskly, since there was still Problem Number Two – the Old Donn – to sort out before my meet-up with the Morrígan. ‘So I’ll take my furry orange hide from under your boots, thanks.’ I shot the furry orange hide in question a pointed look.
‘You’re not thinking about resurrecting him, are you?’ Mad Max asked in an offhand drawl.
‘No.’
‘All yours then, niece.’ He tipped an imaginary hat to me and started sauntering to the doors. ‘I’m off to see if I can resurrect the shambles you’ve made of the business. Have fun, kiddo.’
‘Wait—’
He turned and flashed me a knowing, fang-filled grin. ‘Mr Inscrutable’s gone back to spend some quality time with His Royal Brattiness. After all, none of us want Him putting in an appearance, do we? And old Malik’s the best man to keep him occupied, what with all that True Gift immortality thing he’s got going on—’
Fear, panic and anger that Malik had gone back to the Autarch hit me like a sucker punch right under my heart. Stupid, idiotic vamp.
‘—but he’s bound to turn up like the bad penny he is, sooner or later.’ Mad Max shot his finger at me. ‘Told you, Malik never forgets, and he keeps coming after you once he’s got you in his sights.’ He turned to go.
‘He’s not another long-lost uncle, cousin or whatever, is he?’ I blurted out. Any of which would be like a major ick, I added silently.
Mad Max gave a barking laugh. ‘Worried he’s into incestuous relationships like the rest of our dysfunctional family, are you, niece?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not his thing at all, love.’
Relief slammed into me like a high wind in a hurricane and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
‘Oh,’ he added, ‘and speaking of dysfunctional families, if you see my little bitch of a daughter, tell her she’ll have to deal with you direct for your blood from now on. It appears my middleman’s gone walkabout.’
His daughter—? Oh right, Ana, who I now clicked was another relation . . . my cousin, or niece, or both . . . Mentally I shook my head, not sure I wanted to work out exactly how all the family connections fitted together. It was icky enough just knowing they did. But why would she want my blood? And more worryingly—‘What’s happened to Darius?’
‘Your little fang-pet? Nothing as far as I’m aware. Perhaps I should’ve said my middlewitch, since it’s the beautiful Helena who’s done the old disappearing trick.’
Surprise winged through me. ‘Helen Crane’s gone missing?’
‘That’s what I said, love,’ he said bitterly, his Happy-as-Larry mask slipping momentarily, ‘and if you’re interested in finding her, you’ll have to chase up my black-feathered son.’ Then he did his own disappearing trick and vanished, leaving a sad-sounding plea in my mind. ‘When you see Ana, tell her to stay away . . . and stay safe.’
Chapter Fifty-six
Sunset painted the sky with red, orange and yellow as I walked into the Tower Hill Memorial Garden. A thirty-foot-high fountain shot straight up from the bronze pool in the centre, and the place was crowded with folk: the buzz of their conversation sounded like the overloud birthing-hum of a goblin queen’s nest. Surreally, everyone seemed to be holding a glass or tankard, as if they were at some sort of celebratory party. I clocked some dryads from their assorted hats and swaying bodies, and here and there a naiad headcrest stuck up above the crush, while what looked like the whole herd of satyrs were laughing next to an impromptu bar in one corner. And in among them all a horde of about twenty Gatherer goblins were stomping about, the lights in their trainers flashing as they alternately picked up rubbish and offered nibbles, all while trying to avoid the large, fluffy green-haired puppy who was having fun nipping at their heels.
I stopped in shock, hardly noticing Hugh until he appeared in front of me and blocked my view.
‘What the hell’s going on, Hugh?’ I said, anxiety tightening my gut. ‘I’ve got an appointment with the Morrígan, I need to—’
‘You don’t need to do anything, Genny.’ His ruddy face creased in a wide smile as he pressed a glass into my hand. Bemused, I took it. ‘The Morrígan has been and gone, the fae are celebrating the faelings’ rescue, and everything is on its way to being settled.’
I knocked the drink back – vodka, I discovered, pleased – and half a dozen others handed to me by an attentive goblin while Hugh explained. After the Stepfords had been rescued, Hugh’s anonymous tipster had come forward to reveal that the Morrígan was taking the Stepfords to the Fair Lands until they and their babies were out of danger. The tipster had also delivered details of the biological wizard fathers, many of whom had already offered their future sons’ surrogate mothers a place alongside their children, as the boys’ nannies.
‘That’s great news,’ I said. ‘So who’s the anonymous tipster?’
‘Ana,’ Hugh said, confirming my suspicion. ‘She’s claiming Craig was blackmailing her into complying with his plans, but now he’s dead from an . . . unfortunate . . . accident that occurred during your explosive exit from the Tower’s Between’ – Hugh gave me a searching look, which I ignored – ‘she’s come forward openly. We’re still investigating, but if she’s telling the truth, that will go some way to mitigating any charges brought against her. She says Craig had Witch Harrier and the faelings under some sort of mind-compulsion.’
‘He did,’ I confirmed, and told Hugh all about the Old Donn, ending with how I’d taken his furry orange hide to the ravens at the Tower: they were going to peck apart the hide with its glyphs and destroy the magic trapping his spirit, giving him the freedom I’d promised him. On my terms.
After we’d finished talking, Hugh pointed me towards the bronze pool at the centre of the garden. I made my way through the crowd to find a woman waiting next to the thirty-foot-high fountain.
She smiled shyly as I joined her, and I didn’t need her hip-length waterfall of pale blonde hair or the baby-bump beneath the long silver evening dress to know she was Ana, my niece/ cousin. And I realised it had been she who had freely given me her power when I’d needed it inside the Tower: the connection still jumped between us like barely contained lightning.
‘Thanks for the help, Ana,’ I said, truly grateful and also, suddenly, unaccountably, awkward in the face of yet more family I hadn’t known about – and also feeling ridiculously underdressed in the plain black T-shirt and jeans I’d borrowed from a helpful vamp at the Coffin Club.
‘No. Thank you,’ she said softly as she smoothed her hands over her bump. ‘I couldn’t stop Craig on my own, so I prayed to The Mother to help all of them, and us too, and she sent you.’
The Disney Heaven penny finally dropped: Ana was the one who wanted a new life. But who was—‘Us?’
Her face brightened with love and she gave a soft whistle. The green fluff-ball puppy pricked up its ears and bounded over to us with a sharp-toothed doggy grin. ‘Say hello to your Aunty Genny,’ Ana said.
Aunty Genny? My stomach flip-flopped with nervous excitement. Damn, I’d never been an aunty before.
The puppy shook like it was shedding water, magic prickled over my skin, and then a stick-thin girl of about eight dressed in jeans and a ‘Hello Kitty’ top and sporting a spiky green Mohican appeared. ‘Hello, Aunthy Genny, I’m Andy,’ she lisped, then grinned the same sharp-toothed grin as her doggy shape. And I saw that along with her long white canines, she had two tiny venom incisors – vamp fangs. ‘Fanthy a bite, Aunthy?’ she added cheekily.
‘Andrea!’ Her mother gave a shocked gasp, and a large watery hand whipped out of the fountain and swatted Andy on the backside.
Andy jumped and stuck her tongue out at the fountain. ‘Watch it, Great-Grandpops,’ she said, ‘otherwithe I’ll cock my leg—’
Ana clapped a mortified hand over Andy’s mouth and whispered frantically in her ear, during which the kid treated me to an exaggerated eye-roll.
I pressed my lips together to stop from laugh
ing and shot Andy my best ‘not-impressed’ look, which earned me another eye-roll, and then she shimmered back into the large green fluff-ball puppy, squirmed out of her mother’s hold and went back to tormenting the goblins.
So that was who Mad Max had been giving my blood to.
‘I’m so sorry, Genevieve,’ Ana said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘She’s going through a difficult stage.’
I smiled. ‘Hey, no worries—’
‘Clíona says we’re tainted,’ Ana rushed on, driving all the laughter out of me. ‘When she found out about me and Andy, she wanted to . . .’ She stopped and took a deep breath, and I filled in her unspoken words: kill us. Which was Clíona’s original plan for me too, of course. So it looked like my sidhe grandmother really was the bigoted wicked faerie queen. Ana gestured at the partying fae around us with a slightly awed look. ‘I thought they would feel the same as Clíona. It’s why I’ve hidden us away all these years, and why I did what Craig wanted—’ Her hands clutched at her bump. ‘He said he wouldn’t protect us if I didn’t comply, not just from the Autarch, but from the rest of them. But then I heard your father was also a vamp, and that the fae had accepted you, so I hoped they’d accept me and Andy now too.’
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 corne
r 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 dappled 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.’
Bitter Seed of Magic (9781101553695) Page 37
