CHAPTER Eighteen
I had thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but it had taken me no time at all to drift into a deep and dreamless coma. I didn’t wake up until Mrs. Alcoon was gently shaking my shoulder and saying my name.
“Mackenzie, dear, you need to get up.”
I stretched out, almost without thinking, and then hissed in pain. I felt even worse than I had the night before.
She tutted loudly. “You can’t be doing this, Mackenzie. You can’t be getting into fights like this. The consequences could be disastrous.”
I thought about how close I’d come to actually snuffing it the night before. She had no idea.
“I’m fine,” I said, sitting up, and trying to look like I was. “Is it time for…” my voice trailed off.
She nodded. “I sent Aubrey round to pick up something appropriate for you to wear. I’m not sure it’s wise for you to go though. Not with the way you are right now. I’m sure your young man will understand.”
The idea of pulling my sleeping bag over my head and just wishing the entire world away was remarkably appealing. But then I thought of Endor. And the weapons (hopefully plural) that Balud was going to bring after Staines’ funeral service. And the odd pleading look in Corrigan’s eyes when he’d asked me to go. I didn’t think about Aubrey, or the bloodsuckers, or the fact that I had a group of undefeatable warriors after me, even though I’d nothing to antagonise them other than being born. Life was just getting far too bloody complicated.
I got up, wavered slightly, then gave Mrs. Alcoon what I hoped was a reassuring glance. “I’ll be fine,” I repeated, more firmly than I felt.
She looked troubled, but left me in peace anyway to change into a depressing black dress. She’d left me a scarf out, either having noticed the marks on my throat while I was sleeping or having heard about them from Aubrey. Either way I was grateful for the thought, and wound it round my neck to cover up. At least the bruise on my face was starting to look a little better, I thought ruefully, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
From somewhere outside a car honked, making me jump. A few moments later, Mrs. Alcoon curved her head back round.
“There’s a car waiting for you.”
Evincing surprise, I followed her out. When I recognised the number-plate as belonging to the Brethren, my stomach gave a little flip. I quashed it back down, telling myself not to be so silly. It was probably there because Tom had been thoughtful enough to arrange it. Even if it had been Corrigan who’d sent it, it would merely be because he wanted to make sure that I didn’t bail on my promise to attend the funeral. I clambered inside, my eyes inadvertently falling on the spot where I’d almost died just hours before. I quickly looked away, my gaze landing on Aubrey instead. He looked worried. I reminded myself that I’d have to find somewhere for him to go that would be well out of his former foster family’s reach. Then the car door closed automatically, and we drove off.
The service was being held at the Brethren’s stronghold. I spent the entire journey there in silence and, upon arriving and walking inside, little else changed. I could feel the eyes of numerous shifters on me, accusatory glances that held so much meaning, from how I’d treated Corrigan to allowing Staines’ death to occur. There was so much I was responsible for. I carefully took a seat at the back of the hall, which was clearly used for such occasions, and folded my hands in my lap, closing my eyes. I allowed a trickle of bloodfire to run through my body, enjoying its warmth and hoping it would in some way reinvigorate me. Lughnasadh was less than three days away and, as unlikely as it was starting to seem that I’d make it that far, I had to get myself ready just in case.
The chair next to me creaked as someone else sat down. Surprised, I opened my eyes. I’d rather imagined that being persona non-grata as far as the shifters were concerned, no-one would wish to come near me. When I saw who it was, however, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hi Betsy.”
“You look like shit, Mack.”
I snorted. “I feel a hell of a lot worse.” My voice was still croaky from my near-strangulation. I lifted my hand to my throat for a moment, then dropped it.
Betsy reached over and squeezed my fingers. “Things have been tough.”
I nodded, suddenly not quite able to trust my voice.
“The Lord Alpha’s been screwed up. I’ve never seen him in such a bad mood.”
I swallowed down the lump rising in my throat. “He’s lost his right hand man, hasn’t he?” Because I hadn’t f*cking been at home.
“It started before then.” She watched me carefully.
I didn’t want to go there. I couldn’t go there. I gave her a watery smile instead. “I hear the wedding preparations are going well.”
“Going well?” She shook her head. “You have no idea. Trying to get Tom to even begin to show enthusiasm is a nightmare. I was talking to him yesterday about cake, and he just shrugged and said I could choose whatever I wanted. Except I don’t like fruit cake, he’s allergic to chocolate, and you know what sugar does to shifters.”
“Johannes isn’t doing the catering, is he?” I asked in mock horror. Johannes, the designated chef of the Cornish pack, possessed a lack of culinary skill that was legendary.
She giggled. “No chance. He offered, but I told him I wanted him to enjoy the day, not be rushed off his feet cooking.”
“Did he buy it?”
“Who knows?” A shadow crossed her face. “You are still coming?”
I thought about the upcoming battle with Endor, and my own apparent impending doom, and hoped the scratch in my voice would mask the lie. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Betsy beamed. “I think we could all do with a bit of celebration.”
She wasn’t wrong there.
“Is it bad talking about a wedding when we’re at a funeral?”
“Life goes on, Bets. It has to. What are we all fighting for if not the chance to have weddings and celebrations and happiness?” I smiled sadly to myself.
Funereal music kicked in at that point, and a procession with Corrigan at the helm trooped in solemnly. As well as several highly placed shifters, both the Arch-Mage and the Summer Queen followed them in, their heads bowed. Tom came and sat down on the opposite side of Betsy, although I barely registered him, fixed as I was on Corrigan. The Lord Alpha’s ramrod straight spine indicated just how hard this was for him. The hue of his suit seemed to match his jet black hair perfectly. He’d obviously taken a lot of care in getting dressed today, in order to show his respect for the one person he’d trusted above all others. I closed my eyes again and clenched my teeth together until my jaw ached.
It wasn’t a long service, but it served the werebear well. He had clearly been well thought of across the Brethren, and they were going to miss his presence dearly. Once it was over, and everyone scattered off to get some food and drinks, I hung back. It didn’t seem appropriate for me to join in the wake, even though Corrigan had asked me to be here. Staines and I hadn’t exactly ever seen eye to eye, and I felt very much like an interloper amongst all his grieving friends. I promised Tom that as soon as we were both up at Loch Ness, I’d meet him for some more transformation training, then said my goodbyes to both him and Betsy. Once the room was cleared, I stiffly stood up and moved towards the door.
I was only a few feet away when a shadow fell across my path. I’d been staring somewhat dejectedly at my feet, concentrating on walking slowly forward in order to not cause myself too much more pain, so I was jolted to see Corrigan there, staring at me fathomlessly with his green eyes.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He didn’t say anything, just continued watching me. I didn’t think he so much as blinked.
“I’m really sorry about Staines. I know how much he meant to you.” My voice still sounded strange, as if I had a very bad cold. And it f*cking hurt to speak.
“Are you?” Corrigan finally said. There was an antagonistic edge to his tone, as if he was hoping he could goad me into a fight.
“Am I what?”
“Sorry. Are you actually sorry?” He took a step closer, looming over me with his muscles bunched tightly inside his suit.
I nodded. “We didn’t get on, but…” I swallowed, “But he didn’t deserve that. I should have been there to help him.”
Corrigan looked even more upset at my words and I felt my failure to save Staines’ life even more keenly than before. He opened his mouth to say something, then just closed it again, his hands bunching into fists by his sides. I felt a tightness in my chest, and the awkwardness of the moment was excruciating.
“He didn’t like you.”
“No.”
“He was a good man.”
“I know,” I said quietly.
“There’s not anything he wouldn’t have done to help defeat Endor. His methods might have been unsavoury to some but he knew how to get a job done.”
I wisely kept my mouth shut.
“Did he say anything before he died?”
When I didn’t immediately answer, Corrigan took yet another step in my direction, his face now only inches from mine. I gave him a small nod.
He grabbed me by the shoulders. “What?” he snarled. “What did he say?”
“That he was trying to prove to you that you didn’t need me. I guess that’s why he, you know, went to go see the Batibat.”
“I don’t f*cking need you,” he said, his fingers digging into my skin.
I nodded again. “I know.” Boy, did I know.
He stared at me. I stared back at him. I couldn’t work out for the life of me what he was thinking. If he wanted to use me as a punching bag to make himself feel better, then that was fine. I wasn’t sure my body would be able to take much more abuse, but if it would help him...
“F*ck it,” he said in a low voice, and through obviously gritted teeth, then pulled me towards him and kissed me hard, almost painfully.
My bloodfire immediately, and involuntarily, roared into life. I was so surprised, however, I didn’t even have time to react before he was pushing himself backwards and glaring at me with loathing and disgust. Then he spun on his heel and left.
“Shit,” I cursed aloud.
I’d thought he was going to punch me, not kiss me. I lifted my fingers up to lips. They felt bruised and sore. There was meant to be nothing between us any more; I’d promised the Arch-Mage and the Summer Queen there wouldn’t be in order to maintain the shaky interspecies equilibrium on the council. So I shouldn’t have let him do that. I should have walked away the instant he even came into the room. It was just too dangerous to be alone with him, especially when emotions were flying as high as they were. But I couldn’t quash the little thrill I’d felt – I still was feeling – at the knowledge that at least a small part of him still wanted me. Damn me for a lovesick fool. I sat heavily down on a nearby chair.
But it was three days. Only three days until Endor was going to show up at Loch Ness. We had the palladium, which meant we could defeat him. Then there’d be no need for a council so I would be free of my promise. For the first time since that awful afternoon at Alcazon when I’d dumped him, I felt hope. We could still make it together.
Then the shiny little black stone – the unwanted gift from the unnamed wichtlein – popped into my head, along with the vamps and Bolux’s bloodthirsty descendants. All the optimism drained away, and the remaining flickers of heat seeped out from my blood.
*
When I finally emerged out from the keep, with a heavier heart than it seemed I’d had even upon entering, a nearby car with tinted windows honked its horn making me jump. Scowling, I flicked up my middle finger. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with idiots.
The car window rolled down and a little face appeared. “Really? You’re going to treat me like that after I stayed up all night making your bloody steel?”
Oh. I walked over. “Sorry, Balud,” I said, not actually feeling all that sorry at all. “I didn’t realise it was you.”
The troll harrumphed loudly. “I’ve got half a mind to just drive off. You can sort out your own necromancer-killing weapons.”
I sighed. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”
He tutted. “Well, do you want them or not? Get in.”
I moved round to the passenger side and wrenched open the door, then got in. “A sports car? As a troll, shouldn’t you be trying to stay under the radar?”
“People see the car. They’re not interested in who’s driving it. Besides,” he gestured, “you can’t see through the windows, girl.”
“Oh yeah?” I snapped. “And I thought that times were tough? That with Wold as competition you were practically going under? It looks like you’re f*cking doing all right to me.”
Balud’s face screwed up. “Well, someone got out of the wrong side of bed this morning.”
His flippant words and tone got to me. Ire rose up in my chest, almost choking me. I’d just about had enough of everything. I curled my fingers into my palms. Get a grip, Mack, I told myself. This isn’t helping.
I took a deep breath, and looked at the troll. “What do you have to show me?”
He gazed at me for a moment, as if pondering whether I’d pissed him off too much to bother with me any more. Then he gave in to the greater good. “There’s a box in the trunk. One sword, three daggers.”
I jerked in surprised. “Three?” I hadn’t expected he’d manage to create that many.
Balud looked smug. “I took existing weapons – my best ones, mind you, and I won’t even charge you for them because that’s the kind of nice guy that I am – and edged them with the palladium. They’re not pure, but they’ll do the trick.”
Huh. That was kind of smart, actually.
“Okay, well, good,” I muttered. “Thank you.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re normally a grumpy bitch, but this is even worse than usual.”
For some reason, the floodgates opened. “I can’t have the guy I’m in love with, okay? He hates me. Or maybe he doesn’t hate me, I don’t know. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I’m going to die because a stupid wichtlein left a stone for me in a stupid Russian mine. If the necromancer doesn’t kill me, then the vamps will tell this crazy bunch of f*ckwits where I am unless I give them Aubrey. But Aubrey’s not a vamp any more, he’s human. Not to mention that the crazy bunch of f*ckwits, who think they need to kill me because a thousand f*cking years ago my ancestor killed their ancestor and vice-sodding-versa, do something weird and stop me from being able to fight back in any f*cking way. So generally, everything is shit!” I yelled.
Balud blinked at me. “You realise that was total babble and you’re not making any sense?”
I slumped in my seat. “What. Ever.”
He reached out and gingerly patted me on the shoulder in the same manner that you might try and comfort a rabid dog dying at the side of the road. “Now you have my weapons, you can kill Endor. He’s not a problem.” He shrugged. “And neither are the bloodsuckers. Just get them off your back by giving them this Aubrey fellow.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not? From what I heard, he’s responsible for the deaths of a bunch of others. Others who you cared about. It’s no skin off your nose if they do something to him. They’ll probably just turn him back into a vamp.”
I frowned. “It would just be wrong.”
Balud shook his head. “You’re crazy.”
“I guess I am,” I sighed. “But he’s turned into a good guy.” I looked at the troll. “I have no idea why I just told you all this. Please don’t pass it on to anyone else.”
“Girlie, if I tried to tell anyone, they would think I’m just as crazy as you. You’re a Draco Wyr. One of the most potentially powerful creatures the Otherworld has ever seen. Pull yourself together and stop acting like a baby.”
My mouth dropped open.
“You heard me. Honestly,” he said, his eyes rolling heavenwards, “Women and their bloody hormones.”
My eyes narrowed. “Hey!” I protested.
“Get over yourself, get out, get those weapons and get on with what you should be doing.”
For once I had no reply.
He reached over me and opened the passenger door. “Go on.”
Still slightly stunned, I got out and walked round to the back of the car and opened the boot, pulling out a long wooden box.
“Is this it?” I called out.
He revved the engine loudly. What the f*ck? I slammed the boot shut, and the car immediately careened off, with the tyres actually smoking. I stared after it. Hormones? F*cking troll. I jutted out my bottom lip - and then realised how ridiculous I was being. He was right. I needed to get with the program and act like the council head I was supposed to be.
I hefted the box, feeling its reassuring weight, and glanced back at the keep. I could do this. I marched across the road and thumped back on the large door. After a minute or two, it creaked open, and a shifter stared at me. I pushed past him and stalked inside, following the hum of voices from beyond to get my bearings. Finding what seemed to be the right room, I banged open the door and stepped inside.
Three hundred pairs of eyes swivelled in my direction and the room hushed into silence. Spotting Corrigan at the far end, I strode over. He watched my approach, eyeing me as if I was about to completely flip out. I’d already done that in Balud’s car though. Now it was time to get down to business.
There was a table next to him, covered with white china and the remnants of finger food. Seriously? Delicately painted tea-cups and cucumber sandwiches for a bunch of shapeshifters? Give me a break. I swept one arm across the entire table, and sent it crashing to the floor. No-one in the room moved a muscle.
I shoved Balud’s box onto the table and undid the clasps, flipping open the lid. I had to admit that the troll had really outdone himself. The sword gleamed from within the purple lining of the box. It looked very heavy, and very lethal. I pulled it out, then offered it to Corrigan, hilt first. There was no indication on his face of his previous feelings of disgust, but he still didn’t look very friendly.
“Staines is dead,” I said, making sure my voice was loud and clear so that everyone could hear me. “And we know exactly who killed him. You’ve had your service and had your mourning. Now it’s time to get your revenge.”
A swell of hushed muttering rose up and died again.
“This sword is edged with palladium.” I smiled thinly. “This is a necromancer’s kryptonite. Your Lord Alpha is going to plunge this into Endor’s f*cking heart, and we are going to be rid of him forever.”
I stared into Corrigan’s eyes. Something flickered within their depths and he took hold of the sword, his hands curving round the ornate hilt. Thank f*ck. It was so heavy, I’d been about to drop it. He cut it through the air, first one way, and then the other and nodded at me.
I spoke again. “He gets the sword because it was his right-hand man who died. But there are also three daggers. One for the mages, one for the faeries and one for me. We are going to end this week victorious. We are going to make sure that this bastard dies a thousand deaths. We are going to win. And the reason we’re going to win is because we’re going to work together as a team to do it.” I paused, feeling momentarily carried away by my own sudden energy. Then I shouted. “What are we going to do?”
For a heartbeat there was absolute silence, then one lone voice called out from somewhere at the back, “We’re going to win!”
I shouted again. ‘What are we going to do?”
More people joined in. “We’re going to win!”
“What?”
“We’re going to win! We’re going to win! We’re going to win!” The voice of the crowd swelled until even the rafters were shaking with the tumult. I turned to Corrigan and smiled grimly.
He raised an eyebrow at me with an odd mixture of surprise and approval. There was something else too, which looked a little bit like respect.
“We’ll fight him on the beaches,” he said.
Hearing the conversation, the Arch-Mage stepped up. “We’ll fight him on the landing grounds.”
I looked at the Summer Queen. She rolled her eyes, patently exasperated. “Yes, yes, we’ll fight him in the fields and in the streets.”
I grinned. “I can’t remember the rest. But you know what?”
They all looked at me.
“We’ll never f*cking surrender.”