Suzanne McLeod - The Shifting Price of Prey

‘No doubt some stupid Lone Ranger impression,’ I muttered.

So, next step was . . . speak to Tavish. He was as invested in finding the answers as I was.

I scrambled up, dusting myself off with a groan. Malik’s Translocation spell had dropped me on my butt, hard enough to jolt every vertebra in my spine. At least his leather coat had stopped me getting gravel burn, even if it did drag around my feet.

I grabbed my backpack, gathered up the long coat like I was some Victorian maiden about to flee, and pushed my way into the Warded dome. It clung like extra-sticky glue, evidently recognising me but not entirely happy at letting me through. Had to be my vamp-recycled blood.

As the Ward snapped into place behind me, I heard an ominous splash. Damn. Bertha the eel had woken up. I turned, hoping to make a dash over the roof garden for my open bedroom window, to find the huge eel was high-tailing it at me like she was going for the world record of ‘fastest slithering thing on the planet’, along with ‘jaws wide enough to swallow a cow and sporting an impressive set of razor-sharp gnashers’. What the hell had Ricou been feeding her? Super-size shrimp dinners? She had to have tripled in size since I’d seen her that morning. Okay, maybe I was exaggerating, but, Bertha’s bite is way worse than her bark. The size she was now, she wouldn’t leave just teeth marks in my calf, she’d have half my leg off.

I waved my hand at her, shouting, ‘Biscuit!’ and then pretending to throw the non-existent biscuit.

Bertha ignored my ruse, and kept coming.

Crap. My only chance was to backtrack through the Ward, climb down the roof ladder and use the front door.

The Ward wasn’t interested in letting me leave.

I was caught between it and the freak of an eel. Trapped. Damn Ward really didn’t like my recycled blood.

‘Now would be a good time for some help,’ I muttered. Only help wasn’t coming. Not at this time of the night. And while I had Ascalon, and the blessed sword would make short work of the giant eel, no way did I want to hurt Bertha; it wasn’t her fault she didn’t like me. Not to mention she was Ricou and Sylvia’s beloved pet. Only I already knew I wasn’t fast enough to outrun her . . .

Maybe I could Glamour her?

I’d have to touch her. And hell, I’d never tried to Glamour a fish, or whatever Bertha was. But I had nothing else—

I yanked up my magic, ducked under her looming jaws and slapped my hand on her slippery slimy neck.

Blue light, not gold, sparked from my fingers.

What the—

Bertha froze.

I gaped for a second, then turned and ran, threw my backpack through the open window and dived headfirst after it into the dark room and crash-landed onto the wooden floorboards. Panting, I grabbed the low windowsill and pulled myself up to check on Bertha.

She was still frozen. An odd nimbus of flickering blue light, like an aura, or the blue flames that flared in Malik’s pupils when he used vamp magic to stop time, surrounded her long fishy body.

I stared transfixed. There was only one explanation.

Malik wasn’t the only one who’d gained extra powers from our exchange of blood. I had too.

And I could use them.

I was still staring, bubbling with excitement that at last I might be able to wield some sort of magic, when my bedroom door slammed open behind me. I turned. A black shape rushed me, grabbed the back of the leather coat and hauled me up to dangle about six inches above the floor. I choked, the coat’s collar cutting off my air. My gaze fixed on a pair of swirling turquoise eyes. Pulse racing, I kicked out, getting a lucky foot in, and my captor yelped and flung me back. I crash-landed in a heap for the second time in as many minutes.

There was a crack and a football-sized globe bathed the room in light; one of Sylvia’s Moonshine spells.

Tavish was hunched over by the bottom of my bed, hands between his legs, eyes now murky grey with pain, the beads on his dreads flickering from bright turquoise to the same muddy colour.

‘Genny!’ Sylvia cried from the doorway, her head of blossomy twigs quivering with concern. ‘Oh my goodness, are you all right? Tavish said you were with that vampire at Regent’s Park, and that he wouldn’t let Tavish see you. What happened? Did he hurt you?’ Sylvia moved to look down at me, spring-green eyes sparkling with concern and curiosity. ‘Why aren’t you getting up? Do you need to be healed?’

‘I’m fine,’ I croaked, rubbing my throat. ‘Or I would be if that stupid kelpie hadn’t tried to strangle me.’

Tavish snorted. ‘You kicked me!’

‘You were choking me!’

He shifted gingerly. ‘You didnae look like yourself for a second, doll.’ His words were part apology and part question. ‘’Twas as if darkness slicked your soul like oil on water, but ’tis washed away now.’

‘Yeah, well,’ I grumbled, ‘if you started looking at folk’s shells instead of checking out their souls to see if you can take a sneaky mouthful, then maybe you’d recognise them more often.’ Idiot kelpie and his soul-tasting habits. Though his comment made me frown. Was my odd-looking-soul moment down to my recycled blood? Maybe it was like the Ward not quite recognising me? Not that that let Tavish off the hook.

‘You did look weird, Genny,’ Sylvia exclaimed. ‘Your eyes had these tiny blue flames. They’re gone now, though,’ Sylvia said, moving to peer down at me. ‘What were they for?’

‘It’s a power thing,’ I said, still hardly believing it. ‘I froze Bertha.’

‘You did?’ Sylvia gasped. ‘Oh my goodness, is she dead?’

‘No such luck,’ I muttered, then louder, ‘she’s fine. It’s just a temporary freeze so I could avoid her.’ I looked out the window. Bertha was back in her pool, head stuck up like a vigilant periscope, eyeballing the point where I’d entered the Ward as if she expected me to reappear any moment. ‘She doesn’t like me.’

‘Oh, I’m so glad you didn’t kill her,’ Sylvia said, obviously relieved as she offered me a hand. ‘She’s so sweet, and of course she likes you. Bertha loves to tease, that’s all.’

I huffed as I untangled my legs from the heavy coat and let her pull me to my feet. ‘By taking chunks out of my arse?’

‘It’s a nice arse.’ Sylvia grinned, then stroked her finger down the coat’s lapel. ‘This is nice too, though it’s a bit big for you. Have you been shopping again?’ She tilted her head, pursing her cherry-red lips. ‘No wait, I recognise it. It’s that vamp’s coat, isn’t it?’ Her eyes widened, and before I could stop her, she’d pulled the collar open. ‘Oh, you’ve been Fanged.’ She peered closer, enveloping me in her sweet cherry-blossom scent. ‘More than once, I’d say too. Oh my, Genny, are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?’

‘No—’ I shifted away, taking me, my Fanged throat and Malik’s coat out of her curious reach and felt a prick of magic that wouldn’t let me lie – he had hurt me when he half-drowned me – and that made me add, ‘not in the way you mean.’

‘Genny!’ Her head twigs shook with determination and she crossed her arms. The movement drew my attention to her ‘Hello Boys’ cleavage, and envy filled me as a familiar pinballs of magic jumped to life inside me; Harrods’ Magic Mirror spell. Damn, I’d thought I’d got rid of that. Before the hex could get its ‘plastic surgery’ tendrils into me again, I quickly averted my eyes to Tavish.

He was giving me a look that said a lecture was coming my way, so I went on the offensive. ‘And there was no reason for you to check up on me, either.’

The beads on his dreads flashed crimson with anger. ‘Aye, there was, doll. Given what I found.’