Bloodlust

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 fucking 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 fuckwits 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 fuckwits, who think they need to kill me because a thousand fucking 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 fucking 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 fuck? I slammed the boot shut, and the car immediately careened off, with the tyres actually smoking. I stared after it. Hormones? Fucking 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 fucking 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 fuck. 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 fucking surrender.”

Chapter Nineteen

The trouble with Loch Ness is that, despite its obvious natural beauty, there’s a distinct lack of cover. I’d been fortunate enough to find myself a tree next to the water’s edge to sit myself behind, but I knew that some of us had ended up a few hundred feet away simply because there wasn’t anywhere to hide. We couldn’t afford to let Endor know that we were here. In that scenario no doubt he’d adjust his plans, and we’d be scuppered.

It was satisfying to know that since my impromptu speech, the mages, faeries and shifters had actually, honest-to-goodness and no-holds-barred, managed to set aside their differences and work together. I’d seen them discussing plans, considering strategies and even, once, a shifter asking a mage for advice about whether it would be better to combine their attacks or to separate out their ethereal magic and their physical brawn. Both the Summer Queen and the Arch-Mage had elected to stay away from the action, although they were still monitoring everything closely from a distance. I had to admit that it was a good idea. Their presence only caused more friction – not just amongst the other groups, but from within their own ranks also. Wild horses wouldn’t have kept Corrigan away, however.

The Lord Alpha was positioned on the north edge of the loch, closest to where the kelpies’ habitat was and therefore where we thought Endor would be most likely to attack. I was on the more westerly side, some considerable distance away. It was impressive, really, just how cordial we’d managed to keep our relations with each other over the past two days since we’d all arrived. Neither of us made any mention or even subtle reference to the kiss – instead we were entirely businesslike and focused on our goal. He’d even listened to me when I’d outlined my plans for communication, agreeing that it made the most sense to have everyone in groups of three: one shifter, one Fae and one mage in each. When Endor showed his face, whoever saw him first would use the Fae to transport straight to Corrigan no matter what was happening. That way Corrigan could then use his Voice to tell all the shifters where to vamoose their arses. Only alphas could initiate Voice contact, a fact that often made life difficult for the shifters. In this instance, however, it worked, because it meant that each and every one of us was crystal clear on just how vital it was to collaborate and communicate.