Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

‘Neil Banner—the Souler,’ I mumbled. ‘Is he all right?’

‘Yes, the stun-spell missed him,’ Hugh said quietly, ‘but they’re taking him off to HOPE to make sure.’

I sighed and snuggled back up to Hugh, then remembered something else. ‘What about Alan Hinkley?’

‘He hit his head on a chair when Banner pushed him.’ Hugh patted my back this time. ‘The ambulance crew are just waiting to make sure you’re okay.’

Frowning, I opened my eyes.

We were on the floor in the Hall, a forest of legs around us. I looked up, half-smiling as I recognised two of the crew from HOPE. Next to them stood Constable Lamber, jagged age cracks marring his speckled troll face. Then I followed the smartest pair of black-trousered legs upwards until I found DI Crane. Her expression made me wish I could just close my eyes again.

‘What exactly did you think you were doing, Ms Taylor?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I appreciate the backlash from a stun-spell isn’t pleasant, but I am sure it’s better than the alternative.’ Her hands clenched, and her expensive knuckleduster rings glinted as they caught the overhead lights.

‘Your—’ Another of Hugh’s mini dust clouds drifted over me and I realised that’s what had been getting up my nose and in my throat. I blew it away. ‘You’d have hit Neil Banner with your spell too: automatic vamp defence.’ I rubbed my nose, sneezed and Constable Lamber handed me a troll-sized tissue.

‘Ms Taylor is correct.’ I twisted my head towards the Earl’s voice. He sat on one of the plastic chairs, a bone-china cup and saucer balanced in his hand, looking calm and relaxed. ‘If your spell had hit Westman, my dear Inspector, Mr Banner would most certainly have suffered along with him, and being human, it is quite possible the damage would have been fatal.’

DI Crane’s lips thinned. ‘Thank you,’ she snapped. ‘Ms Taylor, I understand you were concerned about Mr Banner, but perhaps next time you could cast a simple barrier-spell?’ She twisted a turquoise-stoned ring. ‘Catching a vampire in a Glamour seems extreme to me.’

I gritted my teeth. I’d like to see her put up a ‘simple barrier-spell’ when she was inches away from a vamp lost in blood-lust, with Psycho vamp Louis holding his leash—not to mention my other little handicap: not being able to actually cast any spell, let alone a barrier one. Not everyone got the opportunity to go to witch school. Never mind she should probably thank me, as it was her that Psycho vamp Louis had the hots for.

I opened my mouth and Hugh gave me a gentle warning squeeze. ‘I’ll try and remember that,’ I muttered.

‘Inspector Crane?’ Constable Curly-hair hurried into view. Her expression when she caught sight of me in Hugh’s lap made me glad I was in a police station and she wasn’t holding a sharp implement or six.

‘Yes, what is it, Constable Sims?’

Her gaze flicked round the hall, then back to the DI. ‘The goblin’s dead, ma’am,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘He landed on the iron railings.’

‘Truly dead?’ Hugh’s shoulders hunched.

Damn. The goblin had been one of Hugh’s flock. I drew a frustrated breath, sad for both of them.

She nodded. ‘One of the spikes went straight through his heart.’

Hugh let out a deep roar and the noise rolled round the hall, bouncing off the walls. Constable Curly-hair, Inspector Crane and I all clapped our hands over our ears as the other trolls joined in. The sound exploded outwards, signalling their grief, then it stopped abruptly. I shuddered in the sudden silence. Then a distant cacophony of howls echoed in the darkness, breaking the silence and raising the hairs all over my body.

‘My condolences.’ The Earl’s sympathy brushed over me like soothing hands and a soft sigh left Hugh’s lips. I looked at the Earl. He was staring at Hugh, intent, power giving his skin a translucent blue sheen like fine porcelain. I frowned. Mesma wasn’t supposed to work on trolls. Of course I knew the Earl was powerful, that was a given, particularly after the time stunts he’d pulled. But enough juice to affect a troll?

The blue tinge faded from the Earl’s face. I glanced round. No one else had noticed; their heads were still bowed in respect. Then Inspector Crane rubbed her hands together, rings chinking, ending the moment. She looked down at me and sniffed in annoyance. ‘Do you think you might let Ms Taylor get up now, Sergeant?’

‘You feeling better, Genny?’

I nodded. Cuddling up next to Hugh had dispelled the shivers I’d awakened with. He pushed me carefully onto my feet.

I gave the Earl a sideways look, then scanned the hall, looking for the other vampires. I didn’t have far to look: Westman lay curled up about ten feet away, his entranced gaze fixed on me.

Well that answered that question: not only could I Glamour a vamp but the magic appeared to work the same way as if I’d Glamoured a human.

Constable Curly-hair stepped forward in slow-motion. ‘Inspector Crane ... can I arrest ... Ms Taylor—?’

‘Very impressive, Ms Taylor.’ The Earl lifted his teacup in salute. His face was tinged blue again.

‘Thanks.’ I tilted my head towards him. ‘I think playing with time might be even more so.’ I waved a hand at the others. ‘Are you slowing them down, or speeding us up, or do you just press some sort of metaphysical pause button?’

‘Which would you say?’ He replaced the cup on the saucer.

I shrugged. ‘Where’s your other pal?’

‘I believe Louis is having a rest, courtesy of Inspector Crane.’ He inclined his head towards the broken window.

Psycho vamp Louis was lying face-down on the floor. A circlet of silver, studded with gemstones, banded his head. It made him look like a mediaeval prince. Matching bands clamped his upper arms and wrists and shackled his ankles, and they were all fastened together with a silver chain. Constable Taegrin, a heavyset troll with skin of polished black granite, stood watch over him. Louis was still unconscious, so all the bespelled hardware seemed a bit excessive.

‘And why ... would we want to arrest ... her?’ DI Crane’s stuttering words made me jump.

‘For ... casting a ... Glamour, ma’am.’

The Earl smiled. ‘Are you planning on enlightening the Inspector about our little conversation, my dear?’

Was I? Probably, but—

I brushed at the dust on my trousers, then wondered why I was bothering. I seemed to be spending more than my fair share of time on the floor lately. Why had psycho Louis taken such a fancy to the Inspector anyway? Somehow I just couldn’t see him as the love-at-first-sight type, and I didn’t need a calculator to tell me things didn’t add up. But the Inspector wasn’t the friendliest witch around, and I wasn’t entirely sure she’d want to believe me. Maybe I’d run it all past Hugh first, let him decide.

The Earl touched the teacup to his lips again, watching me thoughtfully over the rim.

‘What’s in the cup?’ I asked.

His brows arched in mild surprise. ‘Tea, of course. I find it helps to calm the nerves.’

Yeah, right. Vamps might sip the occasional alcoholic drink—neat spirits only—but I’d never heard of one drinking tea before.

He sighed obviously realising he wasn’t getting an answer from me and the blue colour disappeared from his face. I rubbed the back of my head, trying to ease the same odd release of pressure I’d felt before.

‘Constable Sims, casting a Glamour on a vampire is not a criminal offence. Casting a Glamour on a human is.’ Inspector Crane sent me a condemnatory look. ‘Should Ms Taylor be guilty of that, then I will arrest her myself.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Disappointment crossed her face.