Suzanne McLeod - The Cold Kiss of Death

‘And somehow I just know that’s going to be easier said than done. Any hints?’

‘Use your connections.’

‘Short, sweet and cryptic doesn’t do it for me,’ I said. ‘Want to tell me how in more practical terms?’

‘Let me show you something first.’ She gripped my hand again and even though I knew what she was— who she was—I couldn’t bring myself to yank my hand from hers. She led me past the wall with its painted mural to a small, dark alcove. Inside was another waist-high stone slab, on which was lying a woman’s body, half-shrouded in a white sheet. Her long dark hair curled around her shoulders and her mouth was drawn back in a rictus, showing her sharp white fangs. Another gold locket nestled between her full breasts. Rosa. Thankfully, the only wound she had was the one on her left hip, the one that corresponded with the spell tattoo on my own left hip. She’d obviously healed any damage done by having a five-foot sword run through her.

‘You’re not suggesting I use Rosa’s body, are you?’ I asked guardedly.

‘Sadly, that is no longer a possibility,’ Cosette told me, squeezing my hand. ‘The vampire’s body is bonded to yours through flesh and magic, not by soul or spirit. But I have more to show you.’ She put a finger to her lips and tugged. ‘Come on, we must be quiet. It is better if they do not see you.’ She led me to the open doorway in the bricked-up archway and motioned for me to look. ‘Stand here at the side,’ she murmured.

I peered around the door and into a big, dark, arched-roof space. I frowned as a feeling of déjà vu snagged in my mind, then the thought vanished as I saw the people—thirty or so of them, men, women and a few children, sitting in rows or standing in silent groups ... no, not living people, but souls, ghosts, shades.

I turned back to Cosette and whispered, ‘What are they all doing here?’

‘Hannah has gathered them to pay her demon debt; she has been collecting ghosts from all over the city.’ She pointed to the far side where a ghostly teenager was curled on his side, tears streaking down his face. Another ghost, a woman carrying a posy of wilted flowers, bent and ruffled his hair consolingly. The boy flinched and his head jerked up. He looked around, wide-eyed and scared. ‘Who’s there?’ he whispered, then sucked in the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip and huddled up again, more tears squeezing from his eyes.

Shock sparked in me as I recognised him: the florist’s lad. Then I realised something else and I turned back to Cosette. ‘He’s not dead, is he?’

‘The demon always likes a virgin sacrifice.’ Her thin little shoulders shrugged. ‘He qualifies. He’s also a witness they need to be rid of. With him and all the souls she’s collected, that’s an abundant offering. She’s hoping this will free her totally.’

‘But if she does that, she won’t be a sorcerer any more.’ I was missing something.

‘No, she will be sidhe fae—or at least her body will. And she will control its magic—just as you controlled the vampire’s magic when your soul inhabited that body.’

That made ambitious sense; I could see the advantage in upgrading to a body with its own magical power source, instead of owing a demon for every spell you cast. Didn’t mean I had to like it, or let it happen. Or that I was stupid.

I crouched down next to Cosette. ‘Okay, you’ve been haunting me for long enough, you’ve shown me a sacrificial virgin and a load of ghosts that need rescuing from the fiery pits of hell, so now you can tell me what you get out of all this.’ I smiled, knowing it didn’t reach my eyes, ghostly or otherwise. ‘And don’t try telling me you’re suffering from an attack of remorse or sudden altruism, because I won’t believe you.’

‘Of course not, Genny.’ She patted her chest. ‘I want you to save my soul from the demon too, but I appreciate you might not feel as charitable towards me as some of the innocents in there—look on them as an added incentive. Oh, and just to make it perfectly clear, Hannah intends giving your soul to the demon as well, in return for making her soul in your body a permanent transfer.’

‘Of course she does,’ I muttered. ‘So tell me about these connections.’

She waved her small arm at me. ‘Look and you will see.’

Great. More cryptic clues—

But as I looked, I realised I could still look , that I could still see the magic, and both my own body and Cosette’s were as transparent as a heat shimmer. Queasiness roiled in my stomach. I closed my eyes briefly, regaining my equilibrium, then looked again. This time I could see two ethereal threads attached to my ghostly form; the first was the black silken rope which dangled from my left arm, the rope I’d seen before, when Malik’s sword-trick at the Blue Heart had thrown me back into the nightmare of my memories. The other was a fine red thread joined to the knuckles of my left hand.

‘How do they—?’

A loud buzzing shattered the quiet as one of Doctor Joseph’s machines leapt to life.

‘Yes, it worked,’ Janet yelled loudly, and slapped Joseph on the arm. ‘C’mon, help me get it off her. You take the legs.’ She yanked at Hannah’s old body, jumping out of the way as it rolled and hit the floor with a loud smack, sounding like nothing so much as a side of meat. Joseph froze, his eyes wide above his face-mask, staring down at the blood-covered corpse.

Janet walked round and gave him a little shove. ‘C’mon, Doc, get on and do your stuff,’ she ordered.

Hands shaking, he trundled the small trolley nearer and reached for a swab. He cleaned the blood off my body’s left breast, then lifted what looked like an elephant-sized hypodermic. He held it up and pushed the syringe plunger until a bead of clear liquid appeared, then tapped the syringe until, finally appearing satisfied with his preparations, he felt along my ribs, and positioned the needle. He hesitated, and I could see his eyes blinking behind his glasses, then he pushed down hard until the needle was up to the hilt in my flesh. Then he injected the liquid.

‘Do you think that’s going to be enough?’ Janet hovered over him.

‘I’ve given her enough adrenalin to get a horse started; it’s almost three times what she needs for the body weight,’ he said quietly as he withdrew the needle and swabbed again. ‘It’s the equivalent of a massive build-up of venom, which is what I think brought her—it— the body round last time.’

We all stood and watched my body.

‘Give her another—’

My body’s spine arched and my arms and legs started spasming as if plugged into a live electrical socket. The machine beeped into life and numbers flashed red and began rising fast, and faster. My body opened its eyes; my mouth formed a wide, overjoyed grin and jerked upright.

‘Oh my goodness,’ my mouth yelled delightedly, ‘it worked, it really worked!’ My body lifted its hand and muttered and a ball of light glowed like the sun in its palm; my body threw it up and blew it a kiss. The light shattered into rainbow colours that rained down like a spring shower. ‘Oh, the power! It’s like driving a Ferrari instead of a cranky old rustbucket!’

Fuck. And I didn’t even know how to ride a bike.

I rubbed my hands over my face. I needed to work out how to get out of this, and I needed to get my own body back—before the demon appeared to claim all those poor souls, and mine—I clamped down on the terror that thinking of the demon brought and shoved it away. I looked up as my body threw another spell in the air and it showered me/it/Hannah with coloured light; and filled me with freaky confusion.

Okay, now I needed to think of my body as Hannah’s.