Bloodfire

Page 42

Its huge arms flailed around in the air and it kept rolling on the ground. I gripped the dirk and was about to attack again when Iabartu materialized at it its head and sank one long taloned nail straight into its one eye, piercing it like a balloon. The ispolin shuddered and went still.
Iabartu looked at me and shrugged implacably. “If you want a job doing, then you have to do it yourself,” she murmured softly.
Without thinking, I threw the dirk straight at her throat. She was too quick, however, and blocked it, sending the whole blade spinning uselessly behind me and far out of my reach. “Now what are you going to do little human?”
Good question. I reached inside myself and unleashed the full force of my bloodfire. This time there would be no holding back. It felt like my insides were boiling but I relished the feeling and allowed it to take over in a way I never had before. My shoulders straightened and I met her gaze full on. She opened her mouth to speak but my flames wouldn’t let her even start her sentence. The time for talking was over. Now I needed my revenge and to do what I could to let John rest in true peace. I attacked.
I had no weapon left, and had to avoid falling on the ground, so I stayed light on my feet and clenched my fists. Smacking into the side of her face, I managed to send her reeling but she recovered quickly and answered with a blow of her own. I felt unsteady on my feet, both from her swipes, the continued blood loss and the ispolin’s attack, but the heat inside me wouldn’t allow my brain to register it properly. I kicked her stomach, thanking the heavens that I was wearing my boots instead of my soft soled trainers, and was rewarded with a pained gasp from her. She shot up into the air, body circling upwards like an arrow. I span around, trying to spot where she was and where she’d land next. Unfortunately, I wasn’t versed enough in the fighting tactics of flying demi-goddesses, and, before I knew what was happening, she was behind me, her slender fingers wrapping themselves round my throat and her nails curving into my skin.
Iabartu’s fingers tightened and she leaned over to my ear. I could almost taste the smell of death from her, it was so strong. This made the unpleasant odour of the cloth pale into weak comparison. “I could use my nails to end this now,” she breathed. “Rip into your windpipe and have you bleed out in half a pathetic human heartbeat.” One fingernail scraped across my skin and I felt it draw blood. Shit. “But that wouldn’t achieve what I really want.” Her hands squeezed my neck further until I started to gulp for air. Black dots appeared in front of my eyes and my lungs burned. The flames inside me shrieked and raged and I tried to kick back and knock her away, but it was a feeble effort. “Instead all I need to do is to take away your breath for a mere minute. I’ll starve your mind of oxygen. You’ll be technically brain dead, but I won’t let your body die.” She laughed coldly in my ear. “I’ll keep you alive for as long as I need. You’ll be a little dragon vegetable, growing all the blood I’ll ever need, just for me.” My head was exploding with pain and I could barely hear her words. I needed to breathe but it wasn’t going to happen. Even through the haze of oncoming oblivion, all I could think was that I’d failed. Failed John, failed Julia, failed the pack. Even as a supposedly all powerful Draco Wyr with fiery blood, I had still failed. I closed my eyes and tried to accept the inevitable. A tiny rational corner of me hoped that whatever Iabartu was planning to do with my blood wouldn’t cause any more harm to anyone shifter or human, whilst my hands clawed desperately at her fingers, trying uselessly to pry them away from my throat.
Dimly, I heard a roar and a thunder of steps. Before I could pinpoint what the noise was, I was on the ground, gulping and gasping at air and trying to fill my burning lungs. I didn’t even notice the grass this time. My head felt ridiculously heavy, and it took a vast amount of effort, but I lifted my eyes up to see a huge bear on its haunches extend a clawed paw out to Iabartu’s shape, preventing her from taking off into the air and slamming her into the ground. Seemingly from out of nowhere a sleek black panther pounced on top of her, massive paws digging into her shoulders. It snarled venomously and raised its head for just a brief second to look directly at me. And then it ripped out her throat.
Chapter Twenty Eight
I staggered to my feet, hot angry tears burning my eyes, lungs still screaming in agony, blood leaking from a thousand cuts all over my body, and blood at near boiling. The panther sat atop Iabartu’s still body, looking incredibly self- satisfied. I staggered over and slapped it. In theory, I’d flung all my power behind that one blow, but there was little left inside me to offer. The panther reeled back ever so slightly and growled, rising up.
The Lord Alpha began to change. His fangs retracted first, although the traces of Iabartu’s blood remained on his white teeth. His muzzle and whiskers twisted into human features, and skin and muscles ripped through the fur. His bare feet straddled her body and he glared at me. “You fucking idiot.”
I gasped, trying to get the words out, but my voice felt lost. “She...” I croaked, “She was mine to kill.”
Corrigan placed his hands on his tanned bare hips and suddenly looked amused. “And you were doing such a great job of that, kitten, weren’t you?”
The sound of more ripping fur and shifting came from my left and Anton sauntered over, lip curling. “My Lord, she attacked you. The Way…”
“Under the circumstances, I’ll overlook it,” Corrigan said calmly, not looking at Anton.
“I needed to kill her,” I whispered hoarsely again.
Corrigan’s eyes flashed. “And you presumed to think that you would do it single-handedly? That I didn’t have a plan to sort all this out in the first place?” Anger shimmered across the taut muscles of his face.
Okay, so he was pissed off, but it had still been my fight not the fucking Brethren’s. I opened my mouth again to say so but the pain of drawing breath was too much and I found I couldn’t speak.
“At last, silence reigns. With any luck your vocal chords will be permanently damaged and then you’ll be forced to keep that sweet mouth shut for good.”
I snarled at him and took a step forward.
You forget yourself, human. Anton’s Voice slammed into my mind. I stared at him aghast, with a horrible sense of deja vu. Anton’s Voice meant that Julia…
An articulate noise sprang from my throat, grating against my already wounded windpipe. I gasped for breath and pitched forward, caught by Corrigan’s hard arms just in time. He looked down at me expressionlessly and cleared his throat.
“She’s not dead,” he said softly. “But her wounds are such that she no longer hast the physical ability to manage your pack. Anton’s Voice emerged several hours ago and Mother Nature is doing its job.” He paused for a second, appearing to consider his next words. “Funny, I thought it would be you.” He said this last quietly, so quiet that I doubted that Anton heard him. Probably just as well; I doubted the bear would take too kindly to hearing the insinuation that a human would make a better alpha than he would. I supposed that on the bright side, it meant that Corrigan still wasn’t aware of my true nature. This thought was then suddenly followed by the slamming realization that it had been far too long since I’d used the lotion to mask my human smell. Unconsciously I took a step backward. Shit.
Corrigan’s face closed off. “We need to leave. The other portal will not remain open for much longer.”
I swallowed, trying to edge closer to Iabartu’s body, praying that the stench of death emanating from her would mask me. “Uh….other portal?”
Anton looked at me as if I was stupid. “How do you think they got through to attack the keep? The beach portal was already sealed by your friend,” he spat the last out. “There was obviously another gateway.”
Oh yeah. I’d been so caught up in my grief and horror, not to mention absorbed by the revelations of my ancestry, that I hadn’t even considered where the nasties had come from that had maimed Julia. Duh. I was clearly off my game. My lack of sensible brain activity then wasn’t stopping me now from picturing just how much danger I was putting the whole pack in right now. I stared at Anton, willing him to initiate another conversation so I could remind him about what would happen if Corrigan decided to inhale past Iabartu’s covering scent.
It was Corrigan, however, who looked at me impatiently. “There’ll be time to analyse later. You need to shift so all those cuts will start healing and we need to return. I don’t want to spend more time around this plane than necessary.”
I squeaked and continued to try to implore Anton with my eyes.
“For fuck’s sake,” exclaimed Corrigan. “She’s dead, your alpha’s death is avenged, you can shift. We don’t have time for this.”
“Right,” I said, swallowing hard. “Okay, time to shift. Yes, can’t wait to finally shift again, if I go too long I get that itch, you know? So it’s good, that I can now actually shift.” I was clearly babbling.
Corrigan raised his eyebrows. Anton, damn him, looked amused – and slightly hungry. I wondered whether he still wanted to taste my blood and whether I could use that to make him let me still stay with the pack. Well, I was fucked if I’d let him get even slightly close after this. He continually seemed to forget that my lack of shapeshifterness put the whole pack at risk, not just me. Without his help I went down the only avenue left to avoid trying to meet Corrigan’s obviously impossible expectations. I rolled my eyes back into my head and fainted.
I tried not open my eyes immediately in surprise when Corrigan caught my body before it landed back onto the sharp grass. He cursed and picked me up, holding me against his chest. I fought very hard not to tense up as he did so.
Anton laughed sardonically in my head. Nicely played, human.
God, finally. You idiot, I hissed back at him. I’ve not used the lotion for over a day now. Once we get away from the rotting stench of the bitch, he’ll know I’m human.