CHAPTER Eleven
I woke up late the next morning, my head pounding incessantly. The heavy hot feeling in my stomach hadn’t gone away and I generally felt as if I’d been driven over several times by a ten ton truck. It was an unusual sensation. I was no stranger to getting hurt or passing out, but I normally started to recover fairly quickly. Even the very first time after I’d inadvertently transformed myself into a dragon hadn’t been quite so physically bad as this. The stress of the last week was clearly getting to me.
Dragging my protesting limbs out of bed, I lurched over to the small bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. Then I leaned against the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I poked at the bruise across my cheekbone. At least it didn’t hurt quite as much as it had the day before, although I reckoned it looked considerably worse. The purple was darkening and the shape now looked oddly similar to the outline of Africa, just a rather skewed version. My mouth felt dry and furry and, even though I’d brushed my teeth for at least ten minutes before I’d gone to sleep, I could still taste ash. I sighed deeply, then pulled myself together. A cup of the strongest coffee that I could muster, and I reckoned I’d start to feel more human. So to speak.
I pulled on an old t-shirt, and headed to the kitchen, then almost gave myself a heart attack when I realised someone was already there.
“F*cking hell, Tom!”
He gave me a wave and handed over an already steaming mug of dark, delicious caffeine.
“I could have freaking killed you! What are doing here?”
He grinned amiably. “You passed out pretty quickly before the faerie and I could leave last night. He was going to stay to check on you and make sure you were alright, but I managed to convince him that it’d probably be better if I did that.”
I took a sip, closing my eyes momentarily in pleasure. “Why?”
Tom looked at me as if I was stupid. “The Lord Alpha wouldn’t be best pleased if he found out that you spent the night with the Fae.”
“Somehow I’m not convinced he’d care. Not any longer.”
He shook his head, tutting. “The pair of you are as bad as each other.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Never mind.”
I eyed him suspiciously. Once upon a time I could have cajoled Tom into doing or saying pretty much anything. He’d been a member of the Brethren for almost a year now though, and the effects were starting to show. Not only did he have the obvious physical changes of more lean muscle and strength, but there was also an edge of steel to him personally that had been absent back in Cornwall. Part of me felt sad for the slight naivety and puppy dog enthusiasm that he’d once sported and that had now disappeared, and part of me admired what he was becoming. It made me wonder just what he’d been doing for the Brethren all this time.
“Why did you do it, Red?”
I knew what he was referring to. “Nobody else was going to be able to keep an inter-species council intact. I had to.”
“I don’t mean the council. I mean dumping him like that.”
“The Arch-Mage and the Summer Queen told me…”
“Screw them!” shouted Tom. “Since when have you ever done what someone else has told you to? You let them walk all over you. That’s not you. That’s not the person I grew up with.”
“They were right, Tom. If I stayed with Corrigan, then the Fae and the mages would never trust me because the balance I provide would be shifted in the Brethren’s direction. And if the Fae and the mages don’t trust me then it all falls apart, don’t you see? Endor will win. We need to work together!”
“I still don’t see how being with the Lord Alpha stops them from doing that.”
“You need to see what I see,” I pleaded with Tom. “I’ve had the lot of you tailing me since I got to London so I have first hand experience of exactly how terribly all the different species get on. To be frank, I’m amazed that none of you have killed each other yet. And I’m not trying to be bigheaded here, you great oaf. Even with those token Otherworld meetings that the bigwigs head off to every so often, the only time I’ve seen any real cooperation has been when I’ve been taking the lead. Not because I’m so f*cking amazing or anything, but because I’m not a shifter or a mage or a faerie.”
“You shift into a dragon,” he said sullenly. “And you grew up in a pack.”
“Exactly. So your lot think I’m okay even though I’m not a shifter. Just like the mages think I’m okay because I can do magic. And the f*cking Fae think I’m okay because I can resist their glamour stuff and break their spells, and I get on with them. Name me one other person who is balanced across all three groups and I will give them this f*cking job right now.”
I stared at him in obvious challenge from across the kitchen table. Tom stayed silent.
“Once we’ve dealt with Endor, I will step down. This is only temporary. I thought maybe once Corrigan got over his anger, he’d wait for me and everything would work out in the end.” I sighed, and tugged at my hair. “Except he’s not. He’s already moved on and that’s that.”
Neither of us spoke for a few moments. Then Tom rubbed his forehead and looked me in the eyes. “It’s not going to be temporary.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean. We’ll work together and bring down Endor, and everything will be all hunky-dory. And then something else will rise up and take his place and it will start all over again. You’re going to be tied into this council for the rest of your life.”
I looked away. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Sure.”
“It’s not!”
“Okay.”
I toyed with the handle of my coffee mug. I couldn’t deal with this topic of conversation any longer. “I’m impressed that you managed to get Solus to leave,” I commented, changing the subject. “If he’d thought that he could piss off Corrigan by staying, then I don’t think that wild unicorns would have dragged him away.”
“Yes,” frowned Tom, “your friend does seem to enjoy being antagonistic.” He gave me a long, thoughtful look. “Is he in love with you?”
I laughed slightly. “Solus? No.”
He gave me a skeptical look.
I took another gulp of coffee. “He’s my friend, Tom. Just like you. He’s just a bit of a flirt, that’s all.”
Tom still looked doubtful. He gave in for the time being, however, and changed the subject. “Anyway, I managed to encourage him to leave because the two of us need to get that training started.”
“I thought we were going to meet on Thursday?”
“Don’t you think we need to move that timetable up somewhat now?”
I eyed him with a mixture of hope and trepidation. It was obvious that I needed to bring my dragon side under control, and the sooner the f*cking better before I really did end up hurting someone innocent. I was just terrified that I wouldn’t be able to manage it.
“Don’t you have other things to do? You’re getting bloody married in less than a month, Tom.”
“You do remember Betsy, right? Do you really think she’d let something as important as her wedding day be screwed up by my poor decision making?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Fair point. You’d probably do something shocking like order freesias instead of magnolias for the table settings.”
“Roses and baby’s-breath, actually.” He grinned ruefully, “I almost ended up having my eyeballs taken out by a fountain pen when I suggested that we should just get all the invitations typed out instead of personally writing them.”
“You’d better hope the sun is shining on the day, or she’ll postpone it for a year.”
“Oh, she’s already got about three contingency plans in place.” He smiled fondly to himself, then glanced up at me. “Now quit trying to change the subject and sort yourself out so we can get started.”
Shit. I swallowed. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Finish your coffee first, then we’ll begin.” He gave me an arch look. “I know what you’re like when you don’t get your caffeine fix.”
“I’ll just check the Othernet headlines and my email first.”
“No.”
Er, what? “Yes.”
“It’s not a good idea, Red. I spoke to the Lord Alpha this morning already anyway. You don’t need your email because he’s arranged the council meeting for four pm.”
“Oh, he has, has he?”
Tom shot me a warning look. “We didn’t know how long you were going to be asleep for. It seemed prudent not to wait.”
I subsided into a series of grumbles.
“Staines will be here after midday to talk to you,” he continued, “and there’s nothing on the Othernet that’s a surprise.”
“What does that mean?” My eyes narrowed.
“Just that. There’s gossip about last night and a few pictures, but nothing you need to worry about now.”
“Pictures?” My voice rose and I began to get out of my chair. “Bloody pictures? Of me?”
“Red,” Tom began patiently.
“Let me see them,” I growled.
“No.”
“You can’t tell me what to f*cking do, Tom.”
He laughed shortly. “Red, I need you to be focused right now. Take some of that newfound sense of responsibility and turn it on. We don’t have a vast amount of time and there’s a lot to cover.” He gave me a hard look. “Focus the fire.”
I wiped the frustration off my face at his last words. John, the old alpha in Cornwall and the only real father ‘d ever known, had always used that phrase to get me to pay attention and knuckle down. He’d known more about me then than I’d known about myself. I’d never be sure whether he had ever planned to tell me the truth about my Draco Wyr side but, instead of feeling betrayed, all I felt now was fondness. He’d simultaneously protected me and encouraged me to protect myself. And clearly Tom knew exactly which of my buttons to press just like John had. Focus the fire indeed.
I picked up my coffee cup and drained it, then looked him in the eyes. “Well, let’s get this party started.”
*
Tom cleared away the coffee cups, dumping them in the sink, then turned to me. “Right, we’re going to do this in stages.”
I looked down at the old t-shirt I was wearing. “Let me go and get changed first.”
“No need,” he answered dismissively.
“Eh?”
“We’re going to stay here. It’s probably better if you’re wearing something loose anyway.”
“Stay here?” Was he mad? “Tom, this flat is kind of small. I don’t think it’s going to hold my dragon form.”
He tutted. “Didn’t you pay attention to anything in Cornwall?”
“If I wasn’t going to be able to shift myself, why would I have?” I huffed. “Anyway, I was off hunting with John when you lot were doing the furry thing.”
“The furry thing?” he raised his eyebrows.
I shrugged. “Hey, it’s better than scaly.”
“You don’t know what you look like when you transform, do you?”
“Finding a mirror hadn’t been first on my mind either time,” I commented. “Nothing’s really been on my mind, Tom, because the f*cking dragon takes over.”
He smiled benignly. “We’ll sort that out.”
“I’m not technically a shifter, you know. It might not work like it does for you.”
“Let’s just see, shall we? Stop being obstructive and sit on this chair.”
I did as he instructed, huffing melodramatically. Tom completely ignored my sulky reaction.
“Now close your eyes,” he said patiently. “Create a picture of yourself in your head. It doesn’t need to be what you actually look like, just what you imagine yourself to look like.”
A vision filled my head of a scowling me, gripping two long silver daggers. Excellent.
“Now, you need to take that picture and turn it into something. A symbol. Something a bit more tangible.”
“It’s in my f*cking head, Tom, how tangible is it going to be?”
He didn’t answer. I sighed and tried to think. Okay. I turned the image of angry Mack into a vast bonfire, adding in logs and licking flames of different hues for effect. For a bit of a flourish, I stuck a stuffed figure with a stovepipe hat on the top, in the manner of a Guy Fawkes’ pyre. Deciding that some fireworks would be pretty, I allowed a Catherine Wheel to set off behind the flames, and included some blue and green exploding showers overhead.
“The more simple you can keep it, the better,” Tom added.
My elaborate vision vanished in a puff of smoke. Oh, well. I replaced it with a single burning matchstick.
“Okay, done.”
“Good. Now, smells are particularly evocative so you need to develop some kind of aroma to attach to your symbol. It’ll make it more useful to call up when you need it.”
I imagined burning sulphur and wrinkled my nose.
“Take that image and think of it as being the essence of you. It’s inside you at all times. Lock it away somewhere inside so that it’s safe.”
I moved my fictitious match into a little box deep in my mind.
“Is it there?”
I nodded, still keeping my eyes firmly closed.
“Great. Now picture your dragon self.”
“I don’t know what I look like, remember? Maybe if you let me see those photos on the Othernet then…”
“Shut up, Red,” said Tom, not unkindly. “Picture what you think your dragon self to be.”
Mentally cursing him, I did just that. It filled my mind, snarling and fiery.
“Don’t think of anything else other than that dragon.”
As soon as he said that, it was impossible not to think of other things. I screwed up my face and concentrated harder. It seemed as if an age went by but, finally, all that remained was my nasty Draco Wyr alter ego.
“When I say so, you are going to open your eyes and look down at your right hand. You’re going to think about it as if it was in dragon form, just as it is in your head. As you do this, you are going to keep that symbol of you at the forefront of your mind. It’s always there. You’re always there, no matter what else you see.”
My hand began to prickle with heat, and tendrils of flame snaked away from my fingers and up my arm. I really hoped Tom knew what he was doing.
“Have you got your symbol?”
“Yes.” My voice sounded as if it was far away.
“Okay, then. Open your eyes.”
I lifted up one eyelid just a crack, and peeked down at my hand. It looked normal. Relaxing slightly, I opened both my eyes and stared down. Nothing happened.
“Imagine the dragon.” Tom said calmly.
My fiery self roared up in my mind and then, all of a sudden, I yelped loudly as my hand began to twist and cramp. My fingernails lengthened out into long curving talons and my skin shimmered deep red. I started to panic, feeling my heart thump deep within and bloodfire begin to roar. My left hand started to ache in equal measure. I couldn’t breathe and…
“The symbol, Mack!”
I remembered my little burning match and imagined it hovering in front of my eyes. That was me. I was still there. I gulped in air and my heart rate started to slow. I stretched out my left hand, feeling each finger wiggle one by one, but continued looking at my right.
“Wow,” I whispered.
It didn’t really look like scales. It didn’t really look like skin, either. And the colour – red didn’t really do it justice. It was more of a glittering burgundy. I flexed out and watched the muscles ripple underneath.
“Now bring back your human hand.”
I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep looking at my dragon shape. Desire to fully transform filled me.
“Mack…”
The imaginary smell of burning sulphur filtered through my brain and the little match flickered. I watched as my hand returned to its normal shape then stretched it out wonderingly, then looked up at Tom. He was pale and sweating. I realised that my own skin was clammy and damp.
“Blimey,” I said. “It worked.”