Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

Katie brings me an orange juice and my usual BLT sandwich with lashings of mayonnaise. She smiles and bustles away to serve the rest of the lunchtime crowd. She is still having nightmares, but it has only been a week, and the bad dreams might dim in time.

Declan kept his side of the bargain and offered the Gift to Melissa. Sadly, it didn’t succeed. Two nights ago, she was cremated at a private family ceremony. Bobby, aka Mr October, was there to support Melissa’s mother, all charges against him having been dropped. Alan Hinkley wasn’t able to attend: he is still in a coma and Bobby is spending his nights beside his father’s hospital bed, waiting for him to recover.

Constable Curly-hair is under suspension pending disciplinary action. She refused to pass on the details of Katie’s abduction to Hugh, or anyone else, because of me. By the time Hugh and his back-up team arrived at the Leech & Lettuce, the sun had gone down and the Earl was waiting. Hugh is currently convalescing in the Cairngorms with his tribe.

Thanks to my boss, Stella, and her campaigning, and Finn’s overwhelming evidence about Toni’s activities, the Witches’ Council has reinstated my contract with Spellcrackers.com. I get to keep my job, and my home—the compromise being that the witches will no longer offer me their protection, as Detective Inspector Helen Crane was entirely too happy to inform me.

Finn was taken to HOPE and then transferred to sanctuary, where he underwent the treatment to purge the salaich sìol from his blood. Three of his brothers turned up to take him back to recuperate with his herd. As his salaich sìol infection is so recent, the purge should be successful, but it will be another month before anyone will know for sure. We spoke briefly before he went. He plans to come back to London and take over the franchise at Spellcrackers.com, once he’s well enough.

He held my hand and told me he would keep my secrets.

I don’t know what that means, or how I feel about that for now, so I’ve tucked him away in that box in my mind, along with all the other things I’m not yet ready to think about.

Like Rosa.

And Malik.

I’ve heard he is still in London, but I haven’t seen him.

I sip my orange juice and look at the headline in today’s newspaper.

WITCH TO BE BURNT AT THE STAKE.

Toni has been quickly convicted of Melissa’s murder—the motive being blackmail over the witch’s secret relationship with a vampire—and as Toni can’t object and Rio is dead, it’s a nice neat ending for all concerned.

I push my sandwich away, no longer hungry, and watch the rain.

My heartfelt thanks go to those who have helped this book on its way.

The Thursday Writers—an uninspiring name for a truly inspiring group of people—Alison Aquilina, Malcolm Angel, Judy Monkton, Doreen Cory, and our erstwhile mentor, Della Galton. And last but not least, Fiona Knight, whose constant encouragement and willingness to splash red and purple paint over my words can never be appreciated enough. Without you all, the reality would still be a dream.

To John Jarrold, my agent, a big thank-you for your belief and support. To the crew at Gollancz, for welcoming me so enthusiastically into the fold. And to Jo Fletcher, editor extraordinaire, thank you for all your wonderful work in making my book so much better.