Suzanne McLeod - The Shifting Price of Prey

‘I looked up shapeshifters,’ Katie said, interrupting my worrying thoughts. ‘Did you know the only non-fae shapeshifters are werewolves? There used to be other animal/human-shifters but they were all hunted to extinction.’

I blinked at her, surprised. ‘You think it was a werewolf last night?’

‘Well, they exist, so it’s possible, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ I said slowly. Possible didn’t mean probable. ‘I suppose so. There aren’t any werewolves in Britain, though.’

‘Not living here, no,’ Katie agreed, dipping her head so her ponytail fell to hide her face, then went on to tell me werewolves had been hunted to extinction in Britain sometime in the 1700s, as had real wolves which was around the same time the rest of the world’s therianthropes or wereshifters had been killed off. However, werewolves – lycanthropes – had managed to escape total extinction when they were given ‘full human rights’ status in Russia by Empress Anna Ivanovna, who used them as part of her security police force. Apparently, there were only about hundred packs left worldwide, which amounted to just under a thousand lycans in total, the majority of those were in Russia. As usual, Katie’s research was thorough and gave more detail than I wanted or probably needed to know.

‘It also said that once they get the scent of a virgin,’ Katie finished, ‘they hunt them down so they can Change them.’ She stopped cutting, scissors poised above my foot. ‘I’m still a virgin, Genny.’

Well, your mother will be pleased to hear that! Not that I’d thought any different. But I’d heard the hitch in Katie’s voice. She was worried some imaginary werewolf was going to come looking for her. I knew it wouldn’t happen.

‘That’s just an old wives’ tale,’ I said, trying to reassure her. ‘Far as I remember, new werewolves get recruited from long-serving members of the military or police. I’m pretty sure they’re all volunteers, and I doubt any of them are virgins. You know Wikipedia isn’t always right, don’t you, Katie?’

She snorted and jabbed the tiny scissors back into the knotted sheet hard enough to make me flinch. ‘I didn’t get this from Wikipedia, but from the witch archives in the British Library.’

‘They’re password protected,’ I said, wondering how the hell she’d got access.

‘Tavish gave me one.’

Crap. ‘Tavish has a lot to answer for,’ I muttered. I wasn’t surprised he’d hacked the archives, just that he’d given Katie the password.

‘So do werewolves hunt virgins?’

I sighed. ‘Told you, it’s an old myth, and even if it were true, I doubt the male was close enough to you for it to be a problem.’

‘Genny! I know you told that policeman something last night, that you didn’t tell me.’

Damn. Sometimes Katie was too observant for her own good. I picked at the knot I was working on for a moment, then sighed; if she was going to worry about something, it might as well be the truth. ‘I think the male you saw was a vamp who was following me. One that can shapechange. Only I won’t know for sure until I get some answers. When I do, I’ll let you know. And I’ll make sure that you’re not in any danger this time.’ Whatever I have to do. ‘Okay?’

She stayed quiet for a long moment, head down, blonde hair covering her face. ‘A vampire?’ She glanced up, a mix of anger and fear flashing in her grey eyes, just as I felt the skin of my face twitching like it had popcorn jumping beneath it. She grimaced and looked down again. ‘Okay. Actually that’s less worrying than thinking he was a werewolf.’

I blinked. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I know you’re sort of half vamp, and I know they’re not all bad. And I know you can deal with the bad ones anyway.’

What was I supposed to say to that? It was good she had confidence in me, but I wasn’t sure I could live up to it. Only if I said that, it might only make her anxious again.

‘And I’ve got these.’ She grabbed her huge designer bag and upended it on the bed between us. In amongst the make-up, hair products, glossy mag and other girlie stuff were half-a-dozen bulbs of garlic, three tubes of minced garlic paste, one of chilli paste and a bag of red chillies, the tiny super-hot ones, and a thin bundle of what looked like brass chopsticks.

She’d got her very own vamp-repelling kit. Eating the garlic and chilli wouldn’t put them off, but the paste smeared on skin would stop them biting; charred lips are a quick, easy way to kill a vamp’s appetite.

She waved the chopsticks. ‘Tavish says one of these in the heart will paralyse a vamp. He said I’d probably never need to use it, just wave it around to get their attention and remind them to behave.’ She leaned forwards and hooked her heart-shaped pendant from inside her top. ‘He also added some spells to this; one that stops the vamps using their mind-lock on me, and another that makes me smell like a faeling. He said all the fae and faelings in London are under the Oligarch’s protection, thanks to you, so none of them will even come near me so long as I wear this.’

Wow. Tavish had been busy, but in a good way.

Katie gave me a lopsided smile. ‘So, thanks for telling me, Genny. I know you didn’t ’cause you didn’t want to worry me, but I’d rather know. And I know vamps can’t get me if I stay safe behind a threshold and don’t invite them in. That doesn’t apply to werewolves.’

She had a point. The counselling must’ve done more good than I thought, making her look at things in a practical, proactive way and not just panicking. A lesson I could do with, particularly when it came to dealing with the Autarch.

‘You’re right,’ I agreed. ‘I didn’t want to worry you. Sorry. I’ll tell it like it is next time.’

‘Good.’ She nodded, packed her stuff away and worked on in silence for a few minutes, then gave a final flourish with her scissors to set me free.

I waggled my foot in relief and she peered at me, grey eyes glinting with mischief. ‘Your face looks better now. Less like you’ve got beetles tunnelling under your skin and more like you’re hungover.’

‘Nice image.’ I snorted, jumping up to peer in the overdesk mirror. Hungover was about right, but even as I looked, the dark circles were fading. I prodded my ribs, no pain. Mad Max’s blood had done the business. In fact, I was pretty sure another ten minutes would see me healed of everything other than Malik’s rose-coloured bruises. What I needed now was something to eat and a shower. Not necessarily in that order. Spying the room service menu, I asked Katie to order us some breakfast, then headed for the bathroom.

I stood under the hot shower, easing the kinks in my muscles and mulling over Mad Max.

Never mind the mystery of why he’d helped me, the real question was: what was he doing sniffing round me like a hound following a scent? Either he was spying on me, or Malik . . . or hell, maybe Malik had asked him to watch out for me? He’d obviously asked someone to buy me new clothes. And that someone might have been Mad Max.

So, if Malik had asked Mad Max to keep an eye on me, that would explain why he’d helped me. Even if his help was the really tough-love type. But really, why would Malik trust Mad Max? He knew I didn’t. And aside from the fact he was a crazy sonofabitch, Mad Max owed his Oath to the Autarch.

Then again, the Autarch might be Mad Max’s liege and master, but maybe crazy Max wasn’t so insane after all, since he appeared to hate and fear the psychotic sadist as much as I did.

Of course, there was a third option. Mad Max was keeping an eye on me for the sidhe side of the family. Which was almost as worrying an idea as him spying on me for the Autarch.