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Bloodlust


“Where the fuck have you been?” It was Leah, Corrigan’s sister. Then she leapt up, hooked her legs round his back and began to kiss him. Okay, then.


I backed quietly away, and left them to it, finding myself a seat on the right side of the aisle. It was strange being back here in Cornwall. I had thought it might be too painful, that the memories of the life I used to lead here would overwhelm me. Instead, however, it was almost the opposite. I wasn’t indifferent – far from it. It just felt more like a fond nostalgia for a part of my personal history which was now over. A chapter that was finished.


“The past is a foreign country,” quoted Mrs. Alcoon, sitting herself behind me. She must have telepathically picked up on my mood. “They do things differently there.”


I looked around the room. “Yes, they do.”


She leaned forward. “Slim has been released from his duties with the Ministry. He’s going to come and work at the bookshop full-time.”


It had kind of seemed to me that he was already there full-time, but I held my tongue. “That’s good.”


She grinned. “He’ll look after me in my dotage.”


I had a feeling she would be the one doing the looking after. It would no doubt involve tea. Lots and lots and lots of tea.


More and more people began to wander in and take their seats. Originally, the wedding had been planned for a far smaller number: the Cornish pack, naturally, some of the Brethren and, well, me. Somehow the bonhomie between all three Otherworld groups had extended the guest list quite considerably, however. Looking around, the sense of camaraderie was clear. Rather than choose to segregate themselves, every row contained a mix: a pure melting pot of mages, faeries and shifters. Half of them probably didn’t even know Tom or Betsy, but that kind of wasn’t the point. It felt like a new beginning for everyone. Fortunately, before I became too maudlin and sickly-sweet, the music signaling the arrival of the bride and groom kicked in. The chattering died down, and everyone turned to watch them enter together, with smiles which must have stretched from ear to ear.


*


Johannes had managed to designate himself as the official photographer. Everyone milled around outside as he fussily arranged groups of guests first one way, then another. I was distracted by his amusing suggestion that Solus and Corrigan place their arms round each other’s backs in a gesture of bromance, when Anton appeared by my side. I stiffened involuntarily, and had to force myself not to step away and put some distance between us. For a long time, the pair of us stood there in an awkward silence before he eventually spoke.


“So you’re not human after all.”


“No,” I said shortly. Anton had frequently used my theoretically human status as an excuse to treat me like shit. “Does it matter?”


“I suppose not.” He sighed heavily. “Look, Mackenzie, er, Mack, whatever you prefer being called, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”


You could have blown me down with a feather. “Pardon?”


“I’m sorry. I was horrid to you.”


I stared at him. “You were a fucking wanker to me.”


He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that. Not that you were particularly a bed of roses.” He grinned. “Well, perhaps the thorns…”


He had smiled at me – with a genuine smile. I was utterly flabbergasted.


“Er…”


“You seem a lot mellower than when you lived here.”


“You seem a lot mellower than when I lived here, Anton.”


He laughed. “Yeah. You’d think that responsibility would make a person more stressed and angrier. Instead it’s had the opposite effect.”


I glanced up and noticed Corrigan watching the pair of us, as if ready to defend my honour at any minute. I flashed him a smile of reassurance.


“I should go,” said Anton, “it wouldn’t do to piss off the Brethren Lord, now would it?” He patted me on the shoulder. “You could do worse than him, you know.”


He walked off, leaving me open-mouthed and staring after him. Damn. I guessed I wasn’t the only person with the capability to change.


Solus wandered over in my direction, lifting his fingers towards me a half salute. “So what gives, dragonlette?”


“Hmmm?”


“You’re different. Not just because Endor has gone. There’s something else.”


I shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I was chatting to Mrs. Alcoon earlier.” He leaned in towards me, and lowered his voice. “So what do you think a cross between a panther and a dragon really looks like?”


I could not believe Mrs. Alcoon had told him. I opened my mouth to say something, but he just grinned and patted me on the shoulder. “If you ever need a babysitter…” He turned and left. I snorted to myself. As if.


Breaking into my thoughts, a cherub fluttered up and offered me a glass of champagne. My mouth dropped open a little bit further. I shook my head. It actually had a golden harp strapped to its back. Surely…?


“We used a few spells to spice up the occasion,” said the Arch-Mage, walking up.

“Oh.” That made more sense.


He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not partaking?”


“What? You mean the champagne? Um, no. The bubbles give me a headache.”


I wasn’t sure whether he believed me or not. I shrugged inwardly. I wasn’t going to announce my pregnancy by telling the fucking Arch-Mage before anyone else, even if my old Scottish friend was doing half that work for me. Then the Fae Queen drifted over in a haze of honeysuckle and glowing warmth. Excellent.


“I believe congratulations are in order,” she said.


I coughed. “Excuse me?”


“With your success. We knew no-one else could lead the council. We were right.” She swept her arm around the garden. “Look. Everyone’s here and having fun. Together.”


“Oh, right, yes. Thanks,” I said.


“So we need to consider what the next step is.”


I stared at her.


“The way we are all working together now means that there is no end to what we can achieve. What do you think the council should focus on next?”


My tongue was cloven to the roof of my mouth. She could not be serious.


The Arch-Mage smiled. “You don’t seem happy with the vampires, Miss Smith. We can always start with them. Get rid of them all from our little island for good? Just say the word.”


I found my voice. “We’ve done what we set out to do. Endor’s dead. There’s no reason to keep the council going.”


She arched her eyebrows. “Dear, if we don’t keep the council going, we’ll lose everything we’ve achieved. We need to sustain our momentum.”


“My fucking name is Mack,” I hissed.


She looked rather taken aback.


“And if you want to continue the council on, then that’s great. But you’ll need to elect a new head. I’m done.”


Her gaze hardened. “Let me guess. You’d give up the chance to create harmony across every facet of the Otherworld for a werepanther. Men like him are nine to the dozen. You’ll find someone else.”


Not a chance, sister.


The Arch-Mage butted in. “She’s right. Just think of all the good you can do.”


“Find someone else,” I repeated through gritted teeth.


“But why should we when you are already so very capable?”


I dug my fingernails into my palms. My blood was boiling. Before I did something I truly regretted, I turned and walked away, pushing through the crowds of people. I reached the fringes of the keep’s boundaries and just kept on going, my thoughts a maelstrom of seething anger. How dare they? I had done what they’d asked of me. It wasn’t fair to do this. Someone else could fucking take the council leadership on if they thought it was so bloody important. I kicked at the ground, scuffing it and sending clods of dirt fling up into the air. In one fell swoop the pair of them had completely destroyed my sunny mood. Screw them.


I continued stomping along the well-trodden path, cursing aloud. Fire coursed through my veins and I was aware my vision was starting to cloud into red. I shook my head to clear it. I wasn’t going to lose control. Not because of them. I forced myself to take deep calming breaths as I marched. Get a fucking grip, Mack, I told myself.


Before I realised it, I had emerged out from the canopy of trees. I looked around. The sea stretched in front of me, glittering invitingly in the sunlight. I was high up, on top of the cliffs that overlooked the beach. To the other side, I could see the little village of Trevathorn, sitting snugly at the edge of the bay. If I looked down, I’d be able to see the spot where John had died. I sat down heavily and crossed my legs. How in the hell was I going to get out of this?


There was a rustling behind me. Fuck. Someone had obviously seen me storm off and decided to check whether I was okay. I really just needed some alone time. I craned my neck round to tell whoever it was to go away, then scrambled to my feet and spun round fully.


It was a young man. He looked achingly familiar. I guessed I’d not intimidated the vamps as much as I’d hoped. Fear shivered up my spine. It wasn’t just me I had to worry about any more - but the bloodfire that had been roiling around in my system had vanished. Shit.


“You killed my brother,” he said.


“I didn’t. He was trying to kill me.”


He spat. “So it was self-defence?”


“No!” I put up the palms of my hands in a conciliatory gesture. “A vampire killed him.”


“You work with them?” The disgust in his voice was evident.


Oh, for fuck’s sake. “No,” I said. “They were trying to blackmail me. I’m sorry about your brother, I really am.”


He stared at me with dead eyes. “You’re a Draco Wyr.”


“Yes, but, come on. All that stuff between our ancestors happened hundreds of years ago. There’s no reason for us to hate each other. Let’s be sensible about this.”

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