Blood Politics Page 5
“Those portal things are really rather useful, aren’t they?” commented Mrs. Alcoon.
I begged to differ, but I stayed silent and just smiled at her.
“He’s right, you know,” said Mrs. Alcoon. “A lot of dangerous people now know the truth about you, Mackenzie. You can’t keep pretending otherwise. The shop is ready and we don’t open up until Monday. That leaves five days. Why don’t you take some time off and sort yourself out?” She gave me a hard stare. “Get in touch with that fairy fellow who has your book.”
I frowned at her. “If Solus had anything to tell me then he’d have been in touch by now.”
“From what you told me, he was embarrassed by the way he acted before when he thought you’d been lying. Maybe he’s waiting for you to contact him first.”
I very much doubted that Solus really ever got embarrassed by anything. But she was right, he still had my book. It was a strange sentient thing that had found me first in Inverness and then afterwards at the mages’ academy, and purported to tell the history and secrets of the Draco Wyr. Unfortunately it was written in Fae so I’d tricked Solus into reading it for me so I didn’t have to spend months of work on translation. It hadn’t worked out very well.
I shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I’ll try that.”
“Mackenzie Smith,” said Mrs. Alcoon sharply. “You’ve been prevaricating for months. He knows more about your heritage than you do and it’s time you stopped acting as if nothing has happened. You need to, what is it that they say? Mane up?
“Man up,” I muttered.
“Man up, then. The Mackenzie Smith I knew up in Inverness wouldn’t have let the grass grow so idly under her feet. Get in touch with this Salus fellow…”
“Solus.”
“This Solus fellow, and find out what you need to know. Then you’ll be free to get on with the rest of your life. Your young man won’t wait around forever, you know.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” I said, grumpily, being deliberately obtuse.
“Mackenzie,” Mrs. Alcoon said gently, “don’t be an idiot. You’re worried about your Draco Wyr side and what might happen if you shift again, and you’re worried that your Lord Alpha gentleman will break your heart. And because of those worries, you’re not living your life. Sort yourself out before one of those goons out there who’s following you around does it for you.”
I stared at her in surprise.
“You’re not the only one who is aware of their surroundings, dear. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. You can’t hide from yourself forever.”
“I’m scared,” I said, in a small voice.
“Of course you’re scared. But you’re also the bravest person I know. So start showing some of that bravery and sort yourself out.”
For a long moment I didn’t answer. Then I took a deep breath. “Okay, I can contact Solus and see what he says. You’re right. I need to find out what the book says. But the only reason that Corrigan is interested in me is because everyone else is.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Well,” I paused, “that and the fact that he’s enjoying the chase. As soon as I give in, if I give in, he’ll get bored and move onto something else.”
“And if you don’t do anything he’ll move on eventually anyway, so what have you got to lose?”
Everything, I thought. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to cope with the idea of having Corrigan to myself for how ever long that might be, then be forced to watch him move onto pastures new with barely more than an ‘it’s been fun, kitten’. The man might irritate the hell out of me but being ignored by him would be so very much worse.
I forced a smile onto my face. “I’ll get in touch with Solus,” I repeated.
Mrs. Alcoon sighed. “Then I suppose that’ll have to do for now. I’ll be right here if you need any help.”
I felt a hard ache of rising tears bottle themselves up in my chest. “Thanks.”
“You’re my family now, Mackenzie, you know that.” She patted me on the hand. “I’ll see you back here bright and early on Monday morning, and not before.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice any further, then managed a watery smile and picked up my backpack, walking out and leaving the little shop behind.
I was more nervous than I cared to admit about contacting Solus again. Deciding I’d wait a couple of hours to get up the courage first, I walked home, dimly aware that I was still being followed but too lost in my thoughts to really care. Just before I reached the steps up to my block of flats, however, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I spun round, immediately in defence mode, then relaxed when I saw who it was.
“Tom!” I said, pleased, reaching over to give him a hug.
“Hey, Red,” he grinned at me with the ease of an old friend. “You’re looking good.”
“I thought you were now too important to the Brethren to be given babysitting duty.”
He looked slightly embarrassed and shuffled from left to right. “Well, I have something I wanted to give you. That Betsy and I wanted to give you.” He reddened slightly and reached back into the inside pocket of his jacket, then pulled out a creamy expensive looking envelope. “Here.” He thrust it out to me.
I took it, then looked askance at him. He lifted a shoulder, half-shrugging. “We’ve set a date.”
“Oh, fantastic!” I leaned in to hug him again. “Tom! I’m so happy for the two of you.”
He beamed at me, his smile reaching from ear to ear. “You’ll come, won’t you? To the wedding?”
“Nothing would make me happier. When is it?”
“August 14th. We thought the weather would be nice then.” He looked down at the ground for a moment then back up at me. “It’s going to be in Cornwall.”
Oh. I felt my heart squeeze momentarily at the thought of my old home. “Okay. Um, yes, sure. I can still be there.”
He appeared slightly anxious for a second. “Betsy spoke to Anton. He won’t cause any trouble. Not now that everyone knows you’re not a shifter.”
A grimace crossed my face. “It turns out I’m more of a shifter than everyone realised.”
Tom looked confused.
“Ignore me,” I muttered. As much as a part of my old life that Tom was, and as much as he already knew about me, he clearly had other things going on in his life that didn’t need to be complicated by me and my problems. It was good to know at least that Corrigan hadn’t gone telling all of his little Brethren minions the truth about my dragon side.
Tom, thankfully, let it go. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, digging into his pocket again, “Lord Corrigan asked me to give you this.” He held out a key.
I stared at it for a moment, frowning. “What’s it for?”
He shrugged. “I dunno, Red, he didn’t say.” A mischievous look crossed his face. “The key to his heart?”
I thumped him on the arm. “Fuck off.”
“He’s not really been out with anyone else, you know. Not the whole time that I’ve been with the Brethren.”
“I do log on occasionally to the Othernet, Tom,” I scoffed. ‘I’ve seen his string of ladies.”
He looked at me earnestly. “That’s just for show. More often than not, they’re already spoken for. There’s not been anyone serious.”
Suspicion filled me. “Did he order you to tell me that?”
Tom looked hurt. “No. Just because I’m with the Brethren doesn’t mean I can’t think for myself, and it doesn’t mean I’d manipulate you like that.”
“If he compelled you,” I pointed out, “you’d do whatever he wanted.”
“He’s never done that. He’s not a bad person, Red.”
I sighed. “I know he’s not, Tom. He’s just another complication that I don’t need right now. And I certainly don’t need half the world trying to match-make me with him.”
Tom widened his eyes and tried to look innocent. “I have no idea what you mean.”
I snorted. “Sure you don’t.”
He grinned at me. “Anyway, look, I’ve got to go. Maybe we can catch up properly some time. Have a real sparring session like back in the good old days.”
“I’d really like that.”
”Be seeing you.”
He loped off back down the street. I watched him go, a fond expression on my face, until I glanced over and realised that there was a both a new Fae and a new mage staring at me suspiciously, as if I’d been cavorting somehow with the enemy. I rolled my eyes at them expressively then turned and headed inside.
Chapter Four
Before I’d even reached my front door, I’d realised what the key was for. The gleaming lacquered red paint virtually screamed at me from the other end of the hallway. I wondered whether the colour had been his choice or not and stared down at the key in my hand, supposing that I should have expected no less. After all, he’d been the one who’d broken the bloody thing down in the first place. It was nice of him to bother fixing it.
Then I shook myself. Who the fuck was I kidding? Corrigan wouldn’t have fixed it; he’d just have ordered someone else to do it for him. Much like he’d ordered Tom to come and give me the key. That was what being the head of one of the largest Otherworld organisations meant, I reminded myself. Having far too much power and far too many opportunities to make others do your bidding. I did not need to get myself involved with that any more than I already was. Stupid fucking Brethren.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, then hissed in further anger. On the kitchen table was a delicate china vase filled with flowers. Their sweet scent filled the small flat. So it wasn’t enough that he had to break down my door and then send someone else to fix it, but he also got someone to invade my privacy and enter my living space at the same time. Prick. He had no sense of boundaries. I dropped my backpack in the corner, the books inside thumping loudly against the floor as I did so, and scowled to myself.