Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2) (4 page)

Wandering into the kitchen after her, I aimed for small talk instead.  “So did you pick up anything interesting then?”

“Oh, yes, dear.  I’ve got some nettles and some St John’s Wort.  Makes wonderful tea, you know, and it’s great for the nerves.”  She peered at me curiously.  “Looks like you could do with some.”

“Err…I’m good, thanks.”  The memory of her last brew was still lingering on my taste-buds and I was in no rush to try anything else.  I paused and searched for an opening.  “So, you are a bit of a herbalist, then?”

“Oh, I dabble, dear, but I’m no expert.”  She smiled again and I wondered just how far her dabbling took her.  Into witchcraft as well, perhaps?  Mrs Alcoon continued.  “Although I was wondering if there was something that maybe you could help me with this afternoon.”

“Of course,” I murmured, curious to see what she would actually ask for.

“I promised an old friend who’s feeling sick that I’d make her up a little something to ease her troubles.  The trouble is that I really need some blisterwort if I’m going to follow my recipe correctly.  With my creaking bones it’s difficult to get hold of.  It really only grows on the outskirts of town and it’s a bit of a hike.  If I showed you what it looked like, and where to go to fetch it, do you think you’d manage to pick some for me?  You need to walk up towards Clava Cairns to fetch it.”  She suddenly looked a bit worried.  “You did say that you wanted to see them, didn’t you?  I don’t want to impose on you, Jane dear.”

I swallowed hard.  That was the third time that she’d called me dear in the last five minutes.  But it was no biggie.  Honest.  I wasn’t getting worked up over something so petty.  No sirree, not me. 

“I do want to see the Cairns,” I reassured her.  “And it’s no imposition.  I’d be more than happy to, especially as it’s for a sick friend.”  I watched her carefully as I said the last, but her expression didn’t flicker. 

She reached over and briefly touched my shoulder.  “Thank you so much.  The fever she has isn’t life threatening or anything like that, although it can be dangerous to animals, but she is suffering terribly with hot flushes.”

“Actually I could do with the exercise.”  I realised as soon as I said it that it was true.  The unsociable hours I’d been keeping whilst I worked at the pub hadn’t been particularly conducive to maintaining a health regime and I wanted to make sure that I was in shape for the next time Solus decided to pay a visit.  And in case this little old lady wasn’t quite the harmless old woman she portrayed herself to be.  Appearances could be deceiving and I wasn’t going to let my guard down.  There were just a few too many coincidences that hinted that the otherworld had at least its fingertips on her, if not actually a full grip.  Besides which, I’d helped Julia out in finding clippings in the forest in Cornwall plenty of times before.  I was pretty sure that I knew what blisterwort was and that I could find it.  It might just be worth taking a short trip via home first however, just to see what particular qualities this herb actually possessed.

I said my goodbyes and grabbed my coat and backpack, re-tying my hair in its bun and attaching the needles safely within, then heading outside just in time to be almost blown away by a chilling gust of wind that attacked my face and hair and virtually undid all my attempts to look neat and tidy.  “Fuck,” I swore, turning up my collar although it offered scant protection, and hurrying back to the bedsit.  If nothing else I’d need to find some warmer clothes if I was going to go tramping around the Scottish countryside in search of a plant.

I was halfway home when I thought I heard someone calling my name.  Not Jane, either, but Mackenzie.  I turned around, alarmed, but the windswept streets were almost completely deserted, even though it was barely midday.  I’m just imagining things, I told myself.  I hunched my shoulders over further and battled onwards against the wind.  Siberia has nothing on this place, I thought grimly, pushing forward.  Then I thought I heard it again.  Just a ripple of a voice, however, saying something indistinctly.  I whipped around again, ignoring the blast of wind now against my back.  My eyes darted around the streets.  This was getting bad.  Was it the Fae, or something else?  I frowned and then turned forward again.  There was a little alleyway, or a vennel, as the locals called it, up ahead.  I’d been here long enough to know a little of the lay of the land and it would suit me for darting into to see if anyone really was following me.  I forced myself to maintain my original pace and not appear too overly concerned.

My eyes were starting to smart from the ongoing wind and I blinked away a few tears, shaking my head to try to maintain my vision.  My nerves were jangling and on edge and I could feel the flames rising.  Inverness was just becoming too dangerous, I decided.  I’d see what this was behind me, sort it out and then find somewhere else to go where little old ladies didn’t seem to frighten me and where Fae couldn’t find me.  Easy.

A few moments later I reached the vennel and quickly shot in.  It would have been nice to enjoy the respite it gave me from the gale force winds but instead I kept my senses open and focused.

Mackenzie.

There.  It was faint, but I definitely heard something.  And it was definitely my name.  I resisted the urge to peek round the corner and instead pulled out the needles again.  Bring it on.

It’s been a while but I will find you, kitten. 

I almost dropped the silver.  Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.  That wasn’t a voice, that was a Voice.  And not just any Voice, either, it was Corrigan’s.  My panic systems went into overdrive and before I knew it I was poised and ready for flight.  I felt as if a screeching alarm was going off in my head.  Get out, escape, run now, Mack, run now, it screamed at me.

My heart was thudding in my chest and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  Suddenly, nipping into this alley seemed like a ridiculously bad idea.  I’d be trapped here and he’d find me.  I had no lotion to mask my scent and he’d find out I was human, or at least he’d find out I wasn’t pack, I amended to myself, and then he’d rip me apart.  And then he’d go after Tom and Betsy, and the rest of the remaining pack members in Cornwall and he’d destroy them bit by bit, limb by limb.  He had enough strength to that with barely raising a sweat, I was sure.  He’d massacre them and then go off for breakfast with all his Brethren buddies and think no more of it.  I’d be a footnote, a warning to anyone who ever dared to think they could infiltrate the pack and not have a were.  It wouldn’t matter that I might be part dragon.  I was dead and so was everyone I’d ever cared about. 

Then I realised that the only thing I could now hear was the sound of the wind whistling through the streets and the occasional rumble of a car in the distance.  Think, Mack, think, I forced myself.  His Voice had been faint.  Most alphas couldn’t use their Voice far out of their local vicinity but Corrigan had contacted me once from London whilst I was in Cornwall and that had been as a clear as a bell.  This time, however, I’d had to struggle to work out what he‘d been saying.  He couldn’t be anywhere nearby.  And he’d said he’d find me.  That meant that he still didn’t know where I was.  I felt the tension almost immediately release itself from my body.  He was probably just teasing me, trying to keep me on my toes. I’d not been expecting to hear him; he’d kept pushing at me with his Voice after I left Cornwall but since passing the north-east of England I’d heard nothing and had assumed that I was either out of his range or that he’d given up. Between Solus and my suspicions about Mrs Alcoon and now this though, this day was shaping up to be one of the worst I’d had for a long time, and I’d not even had lunch yet.

*

Once I was home, I changed into a warmer jumper and pulled out a pair of fingerless gloves from a box under the bed.  I tried to find some iron weaponry that I could take with me in case Solus decided to show up again, but I had scant few belongings and hadn’t thought to prepare myself against a miniature Fae invasion.  All my efforts had been concentrated against defending myself against the Pack, and Corrigan.  I decided that I’d run this errand for Mrs Alcoon and then definitely take my leave of Inverness and its cold winds.  I felt a brief of twinge of guilt because I did like the old lady.  Still, I’d only worked for her for two days so I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be too devastated at her loss.  Besides which, the uncanny way she seemed to read my mind and the Fae book – even if Solus had planted it there – most certainly hinted at things I’d probably do my best to stay away from.  I was sure she was harmless but, given my past history with the otherworld, it would be wise to avoid anything even remotely connected with it.  I didn’t know whether Solus would be able to track me if I moved but, even if I completely discounted Mrs Alcoon, there was the threat of Corrigan to take into consideration as well.  If he was still in London then his power must be getting stronger for him to project his Voice this much further - and that spelled danger with a capital D.  And if it wasn’t that his power was stronger but rather that he was nearer in location to me – well, I had to move on.  I could probably sneak across the Channel to France somehow without a passport and then take things from there.

I buttered one of the leftover rolls from my previous night’s dinner and sat down on the bed with the laptop whilst I crammed it into my mouth.  Logging onto the Othernet took a few minutes thanks to my slow internet connection so, whilst I waited, I flicked on the stained kettle to sort myself out a caffeine hit then drummed my fingers against the keys impatiently.  I was in a hurry to get up to the Cairn and find these herbs and then pack up my belongings and get out of Dodge.

As soon as I was in, I typed Solus into the search engine but nothing came up.  I tried Fae and of course ended up with thousands of entries.  Clicking on the first one, a website helpfully entitled Faepaedia, I scanned through its contents.

The Fae are a strong race of daemons that have power over many demsenes.  Their true origins have been lost as time has gone by, however they boast of considerable magical powers.  Human in appearance, the Fae can transport themselves between planes without the cumbersome requirement for portals.  Also known as the Sidhe or the Tuatha De Danann, their homeland has been dubbed Tir Na Nog, a plane that is usually inaccessible to other beings.

Upon Tir Na Nog exist two sections of Fae society: Seelie and Unseelie.  The Seelie Court is headed by the Summer Queen, whose palace is located at the Shining Hall, whilst the Unseelie Court, whose ruler is the Winter King, can be found at the Soul Barrow.

In lore it is believed that the Seelie Fae are ‘good’ and Unseelie Fae are ‘bad’.  The reality is considerably more complicated and both Seelie and Unseelie are known for causing havoc and destruction.  Seelie Fae, however, tend to be less inclined to truly malignant mischief.  Both Courts are considerably at odds with each other, despite the role of the Unseelie Fae in protecting all of Tir Na Nog and the balance that each provides the other.  Darkness cannot exist without light and summer does not exist without winter.

Hmmm.  Nothing particularly new or unsurprising although Solus had seemed offended when I’d suggested that he was Unseelie.  If this othersite was accurate, then surely it was actually the task of the Unseelie Fae to decide whether or not I was a threat, not the Seelies.  I pondered that for a moment and then shrugged.  I couldn’t find anything about Solus himself and, whilst the absence of evidence was not evidence itself, it did suggest that perhaps I shouldn’t be getting my knickers into too much of a twist.  He was probably just a Solitary Fae rather than a member of the Trooping Fae, the aristocracy of the Faeries. But it wasn’t paranoia if they really were after you.  I glanced around my little bedsit and estimated that it would take no more than thirty minutes to pack up my belongings and go.  I was paid up in rent until the end of next week; I’d just have to swallow the loss in income.  It would probably take a couple of hours to get up to Clava Cairns, say an hour to find enough blisterwort for Mrs Alcoon, a couple of hours back and perhaps to pass on my apologies and goodbyes to her - and then I could be on my way out of town by early evening.

I found some images of the little plant so that I would know exactly what I was looking for.  Opening up one of the image sites fully, I scanned through the information there detailing the herb’s medicinal qualities.  Apparently it was good for settling nausea, nerves and high temperatures, as well as reducing the impact of red fever.  The site cautioned against using it whilst pregnant, however.  I snorted slightly and closed the laptop lid, leaving it on top of the bed where I could grab it quickly later along with the rest of my stuff.  Then I hooked up my old trusty backpack and left.

Chapter Five

If I hadn’t been in such a rush to get back so I could say my goodbyes to Inverness then I’d probably have run up all the way up to Clava Cairns in my jogging gear.  At least working up a sweat might have staved off the cold somewhat and it would have given me the chance to start to recoup some of my earlier fitness levels.  As it was though I was itching to get this last errand done and out of the way so I could get on my way. I hopped onto the local bus to try to cut down on some time.  Typically, however, despite the almost complete lack of passengers, the bus seemed to stop every ten metres at every single bus shelter along the way.  I could feel my irritation rising and annoyed heat coiling itself around my intestines.  I was tempted to march up to the driver and demand that he move just a little bit faster but I had the sense that if I tried anything like that he’d deliberately take his time and fall behind schedule. 

After twenty-five minutes of continual stopping and starting, a greasy looking guy clambered onboard, huffing and puffing as he lurched up the aisle.  There was the distinct reek of stale alcohol emanating out of his pores and I tried to breathe through my mouth and lean away from him as he passed.  The memory of Arnie’s pub was still a little raw and the stench coming off the man reminded me of everything about the place.  Not that I missed it of course but at least then I hadn’t been bothered by dangerous Fae or slightly clairvoyant old women or threatening Voices.