Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

Hugh nodded thoughtfully. ‘You were under the witches’ protection, so sending you an invitation was the correct way to contact you. It’s standard practice between the witches and the vampires; that way they meet under the old rules of hospitality.’

Of course! The hospitality thing. That was why Malik had healed me. He’d seen it as his responsibility to make sure I got home safe and unharmed, although it still didn’t explain why he’d invited me in the first place.

‘As this vampire killed the revenants, then there is no need to investigate their deaths.’ Hugh continued with his note. ‘I’ll order the blood tests, and once they’re confirmed the bodies will be burnt and the case closed.’

I nodded, understanding why. When they’d reclaimed their legal rights, the vamps agreed to abide by human laws, but only when it came to humans. They still kept their own judicial traditions, including destroying any vamps that turned feral or were considered a danger, without resorting to human law, and without fear of reprisal—and the two revenants qualified as dangerous in anyone’s book, never mind mine.

I shuddered. It was the same justice Malik was planning to follow in destroying me, or rather, the feral Rosa me, my Alter Vamp.

‘S’cuse me?’ called a child’s nervous voice, and a hand edged through the half-open door, dropped a white paper carrier bag on the floor and disappeared.

I blinked for a moment, baffled, then realised the bag was Finn’s lunch order from the Rosy Lee. Briefly I wondered why Katie hadn’t delivered it, but shrugged the thought off—it was Sunday, and what with the tourists and the Witches’ Market, the café was probably busy. I’d check on her later.

‘You want anything to eat, Hugh?’ He shook his head and I put the bag on the kitchen counter moving the inspector’s brown envelope as I did. I tipped it up and slid out the contents: four ten by eight photos. The two of the Earl bending over my hand weren’t the problem. Like the one in the newspaper, it was obvious we were in a public place. They could be fobbed off as a chance meeting, something the witches probably wouldn’t object to. But the one of me kissing Rio, and the other where I was sitting astride her on the floor ... well, even I had to admit the Witches’ Council were probably right to think the two of us weren’t discussing the weather.

I handed Hugh the pictures, trying not to wince. ‘You can say I told you so if you want.’

He took them from me. ‘Yes, I have seen them. There is also a video on the internet of you with this vampire.’ He held up Rio’s picture. ‘That is what seems to have antagonised the Witches’ Council the most, from what I can gather.’

My day was just getting better and better.

Hugh slid the photos back onto the counter. ‘Apparently, some of the younger witches think that segregation from the vampires is the wrong way to go, particularly in the current climate. The council feel that if they don’t make a stand with you, it will set a bad precedent.’

Damn. Finn with his shining-knight complex might think he could get Inspector Crane to help me, but he had more chance of carrying soup in a sieve.

‘Finn knows.’ I looked up at Hugh. ‘He knows about the 3V. He wants to try and help me.’

‘Ah, Genny.’ Hugh gave a hesitant rumble as a guilty expression crossed his face. ‘There’s something I should explain.’

I frowned, puzzled. ‘What about?’

‘I know I’ve always told you to keep your distance from the fae because of your problem .’ Dust puffed from his head ridge. ‘I know I said that if they were to find out they would ostracise you, but that’s not entirely true. Those with good hearts—like Finn—would want to help you. I think it’s time I told you this, and also to apologise for misleading you all this time.’

‘But Hugh—’

‘Let me finish. When I first met you, I realised you were alone and vulnerable and desperate to put your trust in someone. I also realised that if you started to mix with the fae—’ He sighed, and continued, ‘Well, there are some who would use you for their own gain, much like the vampires. I didn’t want that to happen, so I convinced you that it was better to stay away from others of your own kind as much as possible. I’m sorry.’

‘I was young, Hugh, not totally stupid,’ I said, frowning. ‘Why would you think I would trust someone, even another fae? I mean, it took a couple of years before I started to trust you.’

‘That night I found you,’ Hugh’s fingers tightened around his troll-pen, ‘the night when the human attacked you—well, he’d obviously picked up those church leaflets and used them to lull your suspicions. And if a human could trick you like that, then you’d be an easy mark for a fae,’

‘The human didn’t trick me, Hugh,’ I snorted. ‘He tried to, but I could tell he was some vamp’s blood-pet, his skin was hotter than a dwarf’s furnace. But when I told him to get lost, he said he’d kill the woman working in the café unless I played nice and went with him. I’d planned to Glamour him once we were outside.’

‘But he poisoned you with iron, Genny,’ Hugh rumbled loudly.

‘Yeah.’ I pulled a disgusted face. ‘I admit letting him do that wasn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had. I sort of expected the effects to wear off a bit quicker than they did.’

‘But why did you go along with me all this time if you knew I was misleading you?’

‘Well, you weren’t really, were you?’ I said slowly. ‘You were just being kind. The fae would shun me if they knew about my tainted blood.’

‘Genny, I just explained: not all of them would.’ His frown cracked even deeper.

Oh shit—Hugh didn’t know! He didn’t know who—or rather, what —my father was. The dragon at the sanctuary had told him about the salaich sìol in my blood, but she hadn’t told him about my father ... And no way could I deal with telling Hugh that little revelation just now.

‘Right,’ I snatched up the photos, mentally back-peddling, ‘but then if some of the fae did shun me, never mind anything else, think about all the problems I’d get with the witches, and the vamps.’ Hoping to distract him, I tapped the pictures and added quickly, ‘Like this mess I’m in now.’

‘This is what I have always been afraid of, Genny.’ More red mica glinted anxiously in Hugh’s hair. ‘That something like this would happen. It’s left you very vulnerable.’

‘I’m trying to get out of it, Hugh,’ I sighed, taking a cake box out of the food bag. ‘There’s just one more thing I need to do first before it’s finished.’

Why on earth had Finn ordered cakes? Neither of us ate them. I prised up the lid and stared. It wasn’t a food container, but two heart-shaped blue leather jewellery boxes. My stomach knotted: they had to be from the Earl. Tucked down beside the boxes was a note.

I unfolded the thick cream paper and read:

My dear Genevieve,

I believe the item within the smaller box belongs to you. I acquired it, on your behalf, some three years ago, when you felt the need to offer it up as security. I understand the item has sentimental value, and so I am returning it now, as a gesture of my esteem. I am writing to extend you my protection at this uncertain time and have hopes that you will look favourably upon my offer. I also wish to assure you that my intentions are honourable and enduring. With this in mind, the larger box contains a gift that I trust you will appreciate.

The Earl

My heart pounding, I grabbed the smaller box and jerked back the lid. Tildy’s black opal collar rested on the padded cushion within. My hands were shaking as I picked it up and ran my fingers over the five-stranded necklace. I held it to my nose, but the precious scent of Tildy’s gardenias no longer clung to the jewels, only the sad smell of blood, old and stale and almost bitter. I clutched the opals, blinking back tears. I didn’t have time to get upset.