Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

He took her hand in his. ‘Show me.’

She hesitated, shooting me a fearful look from under her lashes, then she leaned in towards him and kissed him full on the mouth.

I got the feeling it was way more than just your standard kiss.

I stared at my glass, sitting unbroken and empty on the table, and finally remembered what it was about rubies. Witches use gems to store their spells, but some humans use them to enhance and control other talents. Rubies were for intuition, empathy, clairvoyance: with a touch Fiona might see the past, or pluck a memory from a mind, or—more rarely—perceive the future. And right now I was betting Fiona was one of the rare ones. And Declan would be able to taste her ability in her blood. Add that to Declan’s handy knack for stealing memories and the old adage You are what you eat had to be working overtime between the two of them. The look she’d given me had held fear and horror, but underneath there had been a gloating satisfaction.

Fuck. What had she seen?

‘Blood—’ Fiona’s voice was a harsh whisper. ‘So much of it...’ She trailed off with a quiet whimper.

Declan stroked Fiona’s face with a gentle hand. ‘Forget, me love. Sleep and forget,’ he said quietly, insistently.

She relaxed against him, her head dropping to rest in his lap, her eyes fluttering closed with a soft sigh.

This was not good. Picking up the vodka, I poured myself another drink and knocked it back.

‘Well, this was nice .’ Shame I’d have to drink at least another full bottle before the alcohol had any effect on me. Damn sidhe metabolism. I slid the glass onto the table. ‘Sorry to break up our little tête-à-tête, Declan, but it’s time I was going.’

He looked up at me, the blue of his eyes as chilled as the vodka. ‘A warning for you, Genevieve.’ He trailed a finger down Fiona’s neck, hooked it under the ruby choker she wore. ‘Your bargain is with me.’ He twisted the necklace. The stones dug into Fiona’s pale flesh. ‘So you’ll be staying away from the Earl and Malik al-Khan.’

My heart thudded in my chest. I got his message loud and clear—Fiona might be important to him, but after all, he considered her his property and he’d hurt, or even kill her if he felt the need—and he’d try and do the same to me.

‘Let’s get one thing straight, Declan.’ I clenched my fists. ‘We may have a deal going on here, but that’s all we have. It doesn’t give you any rights. I belong to no one but myself. Is that crystal-clear enough for you?’

He smiled and gave another sharp twist to the ruby choker.

Fiona whimpered in her sleep, one arm half-lifting in supplication.

I stood up. ‘Thanks for the drink, Declan.’

‘Slàinte, Genevieve. You’ll be sure and let me know as soon as you discover anything.’

The band played ‘Danny Boy’ as I left.

Five flights of stairs, the after-effects of too much G-Zav and a visit with Declan at the Bloody Shamrock, never mind the dread weighing me down after Fiona’s little fortune-telling show are not the best way to end an evening. I set myself at the last flight of stairs and clutching my keys, grabbed the wooden handrail and climbed. As I stood at the top, head down and heartbeat pounding like a bass drum in my ears; I tried to get my breathing back under control. This was one of those times when I wished I lived on the ground floor instead of in a converted two-room attic—never mind that the night wasn’t over and I still had miles to go—

‘You look like you could use a few more visits to the gym.’

I yelped and dropped my keys.

Finn was leaning next to my door, shoulder propped against the wall, arms folded. ‘Sorry, Gen.’ The faint moonlight through the landing window cast a tall shadow of his horns and gave him a slightly menacing air. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you’d realise I was here.’

I would have— should’ve sensed him—if it wasn’t for the G-Zav. Damn stuff always screws me up. I looked at him, but the usual stupid thrill of seeing him was muted by other things: Hugh’s little lecture, the mess I was in, and the fact it was getting harder and harder to say no to him.

‘Now’s not a good time,’ I sighed. ‘I’m too tired, Finn.’

He frowned. ‘You do look sort of hot and bothered.’

Yeah, well, so would he if he was halfway to another venom-induced blood-flush.

‘Anyway,’ he pushed himself upright, face concerned, ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘If it’s about dinner or—’

‘It’s important, Gen.’ He bent and picked up my keys. ‘I’ve found out what the trees have been talking about.’

Oh right. In all the excitement I’d forgotten about them. ‘You’d better come in then,’ I said, resigned.

He unlocked the door and stood back to usher me through. ‘After you, my Lady.’

I flicked the light on and as I walked across the room, I reached up out of habit and set the light’s long strings of glass beads tinkling, then headed for the run of white cabinets along the one wall that makes up my kitchen. I pulled open the fridge, snagged the vodka from the ice-box and grabbed a glass. Then I remembered my guest. ‘Want a drink, Finn?’ I asked, turning round.

Finn was looking round, taking in the surroundings with interest. I gave the room, my living area, a quick once-over. It all looked as I’d left it—the mound of cushions and throws heaped against the wall, one of Katie’s glossy mags lying on the rug, the bundle of bills and junk mail piled next to my computer on the floor—not that I’d expected it to look any different, of course. I didn’t have the benefit of a resident brownie, like Agatha ...

... the memory of gift horses bearing crystals and way too much brownie magic surfaced and I frowned at Finn, doubts crowding my mind.

‘Great place, Gen.’ He grinned and waved up at the vaulted ceiling with its black wooden struts. ‘It reminds me of being in the woods on a clear winter’s day.’ He set the light tinkling again and the long drops of amber and gold and copper beads flashed kaleidoscopic colours over the white-painted walls. ‘You know, when the sun shines and sparkles through the naked trees.’

‘You didn’t come round to look at my décor, Finn,’ I said slowly as the doubts tripped into suspicion. ‘Just tell me about the trees.’

‘Hey,’ he grinned, ‘I like the place, it’s cool—’

‘Fine!’ Suspicion fell into anger. ‘Let yourself out when you’ve finished admiring it.’ I splashed vodka in the glass and knocked it back, feeling the icy chill deep inside me. ‘I need to get some sleep.’

‘C’mon, Gen—’

I slammed the glass down. ‘No, you c’mon . You set me up today, Finn, and I don’t like it.’ I closed the distance between us. ‘If you wanted to know how much magic I could absorb, you only had to ask. But no, you decided to give me a little test instead.’ I thumped my hand against his chest. ‘The half-dozen spells in the restaurant I could understand: they were just a ruse on the brownie’s part to get me there. But I couldn’t work out why she’d blitzed the kitchen like that, why she would risk hurting her family’s business—only it wasn’t her, was it? It was you.’ I gave his chest another thump. ‘You set all those spells, didn’t you?’

‘Okay, okay, I admit it.’ He held his palms out, face full of remorse. ‘And I’m sorry, I was wrong. But it was only brownie magic, Gen, nothing drastic. A lot of people find it useful—’

I threw my arm out, indicating the room. ‘Does it look like I clean and tidy and bake, Finn? No! I don’t have any furniture; I don’t even have an oven . I eat all my meals at the Rosy Lee. And you know what else your nothing drastic brownie magic is doing? It’s leaking out at inconvenient moments, and it’s pulling my Glamour with it.’ I clenched my fists. ‘I nearly Glamoured a human—a man —just because I felt sorry for him. No way do I call that nothing drastic .’