Suzanne McLeod - The Shifting Price of Prey

A frown lined his brows. ‘The egg will be undamaged from their possession, as for anything else, I cannot say.’

I grunted in acknowledgement. ‘Fair enough. So that’s it? There’s nothing else?’ Like wanting my blood-bond?

Bastien smiled. ‘There is one other condition.’

Of course there was. ‘What?’

‘Time is of the essence,’ Card Bastien said. ‘You must leave now. No stopping to converse with your friends or anyone else. Otherwise the opportunity to attain the rune will be lost.’

I rocked back on my heels. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘He cannot lie, bean sidhe,’ Viviane said softly. ‘His spirit is guided by the cards.’

I looked away from the card to the open space, at those I loved gathered around Gold Cat the imposter. If I left now, with her there, they might never know I was gone . . .

An ache closed my throat; my eyes stung. I took a deep breath, swallowed the threatening tears back. No way would I give Bastien the satisfaction of seeing how much leaving would hurt. Then panic overwhelmed that hurt as something way more crucial hit me. Gold Cat was out for survival, her own and her pride, and ruthless with it. If I left now, who knew what she’d do to Katie, and to Finn. And Bastien’s price meant I couldn’t even warn them, let alone protect them—

I had Ascalon. I could kill her.

It would take no more than a minute.

Or ten.

Or she’d fight back, and even with Ascalon I might not be a match for a primal spirit. Then what if I killed her? There’d still be the fallout. Ten minutes could end up an hour or more . . .

But no way did I trust Bastien or Viviane’s tarot cards not to skew things in their favour. For all I knew I could have days, weeks even, before the chance to locate the Rune was lost. But could I take that risk when the fae’s fertility was at stake, and ultimately their lives too?

In a weird déjà vu moment, I realised I’d been here before, not this exact spot, and not this exact choice, but I was still making a decision that would affect them all. But as Tavish had told me, it was my blood on both my fae and vamp sides that had started this. I was the key. If I screwed up and chose wrong it wasn’t only Katie and Finn in peril, but Tavish and Ana and Freya and Sylvia and Ricou and Baby Grace and all the rest. They were all fae. They would all die.

My heart hurting as if it were being ripped in two, I turned back at Bastien.

‘Well, what choice do you make, my sweet sidhe?’

I pointed at Malik a get-out-of-the-deal idea sparking. ‘Unfreeze him, or there’s no deal.’

One eyebrow rose, then Bastien smiled. My stomach sank – he looked way too pleased with himself – as Malik’s hand closed on my arm. I turned and gave him a short and not-so-sweet update, then asked, ‘Do you know who holds the Fabergé egg?’

Malik’s eyes emptied, turning opaque as black glass as he flicked a look towards Bastien. ‘No, I do not.’

Damn. Bastien’s reaction had told me that would be Malik’s answer, but I’d still hoped. I clenched my fist around Ascalon’s ring. Maybe I should just kill the psycho vamp and take the chance that, with Malik’s help, I could find the egg.

Bastien laughed, the sound grating on my ears. ‘Oh, yes, one more point. If I die, then the one who holds the Fabergé egg will destroy it.’

Fuck. He was right. I couldn’t kill him. Not yet. Not till I had the egg in my hands. And no way was he going to give me that before I got the rune.

‘Genevieve.’ Malik took my hand in his and drew me aside. ‘You do not have to do this. I will fetch this rune you need. Give my soul back to Bastien, stay here and help your friends, and live your life. Let me do this for you.’

My heart filled with warmth, and more, that he would offer.

But I had to do this. I knew it in my gut.

I had to make this journey.

I kept my gaze on Malik, but spoke to Bastien and the magic. ‘I agree the terms.’

A chime split the air. The sound reverberated inside me. Bargain made.

I took a shaky breath. Then another stronger one, and gave Malik a grim smile. ‘Looks like I’m leaving for the Fair Lands.’

Malik’s hand tightened around mine, my own resolve reflecting in the black depths of his eyes. ‘Then, Genevieve, we shall go together.’

Writing a book is a solitary endeavour but getting it from first draft to publication takes a lot of hard work, encouragement and support from a wonderful and generous group of people. My deepest thanks and appreciation to everyone whose help has made this book a thousand times better, any errors are my own.

As with all my books, the characters in this one are a product of my imagination and bear no relation to any real people, living, dead or otherwise . . . except for where they do!

So grateful thanks to Steve Dean for his generous support in the Genre for Japan auction and for agreeing to be a bad-die and suffering a suitably horrible fate! I hope you like your tuckerisation! And to Jonathan Weir, publicist extraordinaire at Gollancz, for allowing me to take his and David O’Reilly’s names in vain, and for being eminently bribeable, err, kindly arranging for me to meet one of my all-time writerly heros – the fabulous Charlaine Harris.

Thanks to John Jarrold, my agent, for his belief in me; thanks to all the Gollancz crew for their support, commitment and the gorgeous new covers; and especially to Gillian Redfearn, editor magnifique, for her patience, her words of editorial wisdom, and her enthusiasm for Genny & Co.

Thanks to the Thursday Writers, a truly inspiring bunch: Malcolm Angel, Alison Aquilina, Judy Monckton, and Doreen Cory, who have travelled this amazing journey with me from the start.

Thanks to my wonderful intrepid beta readers: Caroline Allard, Hasna Saadani, Reece Notley, Lisa Wynn, Calie Voorhis, Ailsa Floyd, Marc Mullinex, and Jen Neil, you all rock, bigtime!

Thanks to Jaye Wells, my always awesome crit partner (look out for the Giguhl Easter eggs!), and to the amazing Ann Aguirre for their superb writerly back-up and advice.

Special thanks to Che Gilson for her endless encouragement.

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, a massive thank you to all you readers who have taken my books into your hearts – I truly hope you enjoy this latest adventure of Genny & Co’s!

Suzanne McLeod

Dorset

The Sweet Scent of Blood

The Cold Kiss of Death

The Bitter Seed of Magic

The Shifting Price of Prey

The Hidden Rune of Iron