Suzanne McLeod - The Bitter Seed of Magic

‘Yep,’ I agreed. ‘And a certain kelpie is so not going to be a happy water-horse after this. I’m thinking gremlins in his precious computers … or maybe duck weed in his lake.’

‘Ouch.’ Finn winced. ‘Remind me never to upset you. Hey, but if you need help, then I’m in.’

I grinned. ‘Thanks.’

He let go of my wrist and smiled ruefully. ‘Guess this means I’m not that irresistible after all.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ I tilted my head and smiled playfully. ‘You could always try and convince me. Maybe kill two birds with one kiss?’

A sharp gust of river-scented wind sliced between us and he reached out and carefully tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. ‘Probably not a good idea, Gen. Tavish must’ve tagged you after the funeral. Those type of spells aren’t meant to last for more than a couple of weeks, to help you get over things, so it should’ve worn off by now, which means he’s added his own spin to the spell. If I defuse it instead of him, it could cause problems. Want me to try and pull it apart instead?’

Always the white knight. But much as I appreciated his concern, I couldn’t help regretting that reality had brought responsible, serious Finn back. ‘Thanks, but I’m not sure there’s time.’ I jerked my head over at the police still milling round the launch bobbing next to the dock. ‘There’s my trip to Old Scotland Yard. I have to give a statement, remember? I don’t want to delay it, and to be honest, I’d feel happier if the spell’s gone before then. That’s if you don’t mind …’

‘Mind? “Tempt not a desperate man”,’ he said softly, eyes bleak. Then a wicked light eclipsed the bleakness so quickly I thought I’d imagined it. ‘Though, talking about tempting’—a grin spread across his face—‘how about a bet? Dinner says the power of my kiss demolishes the spell inside a minute. If it takes longer, then it’s my treat.’

I narrowed my eyes. It was a bet he couldn’t lose. ‘Do you really expect me to fall for that?’

‘Yep,’ he said, much too happily. ‘Unless of course, I’m really not irresistible.’

Anticipation fluttered in my stomach and I struggled to contain my smile. ‘Go on then,’ I said, deliberately offhand as I stuck my chin out and puckered up. ‘Get it over with.’

All teasing left him as he reached out and clasped my face, mirroring my earlier movements, then bowed his head and rested his forehead against mine. The flutter brushed my heart, turning nervous—in a good way. ‘This one’s for the spell,’ he murmured, his breath warm across my cheeks. He dropped a light kiss on my mouth. My lips tingled, and a pulse of power slipped over my body, pebbling goosebumps on my skin. I felt the thorns pop out of my flesh and the briar stem wither and dissipate back into the ether.

‘Wow,’ I murmured, warring between being impressed and disappointed that the kiss was over so fast. ‘Looks like dinner’s on me then.’

He gave a quiet, satisfied laugh.

‘Now this one’—he tilted my face up, thumbs caressing my jaw, his eyes dark and solemn—‘is for you alone, Gen.’ He pressed his lips to mine, a quick hard kiss that filled me with his magic and stopped my heart for one glorious second, leaving me breathless, wanting and stunned.

Oh boy, now I really was screwed.

It’s always handy to know you’ve got a five-hundred-plus-year-old—and therefore very powerful—vamp on speed-dial, even if the realisation is one of those good news/bad news things.

The bad news was I’d been arrested.

Not for the kiss (even though the kiss was so worth being arrested for, and more)—although seeing it was DI Helen Crane who did the arresting, the kiss was definitely a contributing factor. But on the face of it, the charge was for Misappropriation of Police Property, the police property in question being the Stun spell I’d misappropriated from Constable Martin’s baton, the one I’d used to knock out Bandana. Talk about irony. Witch-bitch Helen Crane had all but pounced on me with barely hidden glee as soon as Finn and I turned up at Old Scotland Yard.

More bad news: I was locked up in a state-of-the-art silver-lined police cell. The twelve-foot-square room had no windows, a six-inch steel door, a CCTV camera high in each corner, icky plastic facilities, and the ultimate in sleeping luxury: a barely there foam mattress. The cell was designed for keeping vamps and dangerous witches in line. Maybe I should be flattered she thought so much of me? Nah, she was just going for overkill again.

I shifted uncomfortably on the thin mattress and carefully tugged down the sleeves of the snazzy white paper jumpsuit provided by the Met’s fashion dept, adjusting them so that the silver-plated ‘slave-bracelets’ studded with chips of jade (Stun spells) and citrines (Magic Dampening spells) no longer touched my skin. I did the same with the jumpsuit’s legs—not that it would make much difference; every time I moved the heavy leg manacles slipped down again, so now I had a nice neat line of silver-burn blisters encircling both ankles.

Yet another helping of bad news: my phone call to Malik—or, to be precise, as it was daylight, my call to Sanguine Lifestyles, the vamps’ 24/7 answering/gofer service. The request to make the call had just popped out of my mouth without any conscious decision on my part. That meant Malik had not only used his vamp mojo on me but planted a mind-locked order in my head. No wonder my memories of him were so hazy.

‘Damn arrogant vamp,’ I muttered. I didn’t need to be ordered to call him if I needed help.

After all, I wasn’t stupid. If the Witch-bitch thought she could make a strong enough case out of my stealing the Stun spell to show I was a danger to humans, I could be taking a one-way trip to the guillotine. It was an extreme possibility, but thanks to fae not having ‘human rights’, it was still a possibility, and one she’d taken great pleasure in reminding me of during my arrest. Calling Malik, hell, calling anyone who could get me out of Clink was a no-brainer. Okay, so it might end up with me paying in blood, but considering the alternative, there really wasn’t any contest.

Still, irritation at high-handed vamps aside, at least the woman at Sanguine Lifestyles had been reassuring. ‘No problem, Ms Taylor. If you can give me the details, I will have a solicitor there within half an hour.’

It had sounded too good to be true.

Now, eight hours later, of course, I’d discovered it was.

I growled in frustration and frowned at my left arm.

The final bad news was that as well as wearing the pretty police-issue jewellery, I was now also sporting a nifty spell bracelet. I’d uncovered it when I’d been looking for any magical leftovers from the Sleeping Beauty spell. Like that one, the bracelet had been nothing more than a line of shadow hidden beneath Malik’s mark. With the citrines in the silver manacles dampening my magic, it had taken me all day to force the bracelet back into its original form.

But hey, time was one thing I had plenty of.

I gave the bracelet an assessing look. Tavish really had gone to town when he’d made it. Even pissed off as I was at the tricky, scheming kelpie, I had to admire his spellcraft. The plait of green-black horsehair tied tightly round my wrist was threaded with twelve glass beads, five clear, and the rest deep red. I hadn’t a clue what they did. Interspersed between the beads were seven tiny charms. The first two were detailed replicas of a red telephone box and a red London bus, both made from enamelled gold. The telephone box had been crushed: I guessed to stop me from communicating with anyone outside London. And the bus was missing its wheels: probably to make sure I couldn’t leave—or be taken from—the capital. The third charm was a wooden spindle—no guesses needed as to what that did—but at least it was broken, thanks to Finn’s kiss. The fourth was an inch-long miniature sword—like some sort of scimitar—so perfectly carved from obsidian that it could only be the work of a Northern dwarf. The fifth and sixth were a gold egg, crackled like old china, and a plain gold cross; again, I hadn’t a clue what they did. And the last was a miniature platinum ring set with a black crescent-shaped gem.