Blood Politics (Blood Destiny 4) (27 page)

Beltran cleared his throat p
ointedly, in case I’d forgotten that we weren’t here simply to shoot the breeze.  I tried to avoid scowling at him.  I couldn’t just open every conversation with ‘did you or anyone you know crucify a tree nymph near here in order to boost your evil Machiavellian power plans?’ now, could I?

“I’m pretty new here,” I said to the guy.
 I gave a little laugh.  “Well, very new.”

“I know!” he grinned back.
 “I’d have noticed you around here before otherwise.”

I ignored the opportunity for a little flirtation.
 I didn’t have time to mess around to get the information that I needed.  Let’s face it, all I really wanted to do was to get back to Corrigan as quickly as possible.  I went for the more direct route instead. “Are there any other newcomers around?  Maybe we could band together.”

It stood to reason that my dryad-killer-slash-weapons-dealer hadn’t spent any time up till now hanging around with the protestors.
 With his ward in place, he’d have had no reason to worry about them.  That meant that if he was here now, hiding in amongst the other humans, then he had to be new.  And I reckoned that, like me, any newbies would stick out like sore thumbs.

“Nah.
 Just Tran here, and yourself.  Other than that, everyone else has been with us for months.”

I immediately stiffened at the mention of some guy named Tran, then relaxed when I realised that Bo was gesturing towards Beltran with his thumb.
 Oh, of course.

“It’s Beltran,” glowered the Fae.

I tried not to smirk in amused understanding at his annoyance.

A girl came up and joined us, offering
me a quick smile, before focusing her attention on Bo.

“We have a problem,” she said, her features set.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“We need some tree trunks for the tripods, Bo.”

“And?”

“There aren’t any.”

I was utterly confused.  We were in the middle of a forest. Trees were not in short supply.

Bo, however, sighed heavily.
 “”We’ve been through this.”

“Yeah, but…”

“We kill a few to save a lot.  You know that.”

I was even more baffled now.
 And I definitely didn’t like this talk of killing.  “Uh, what’s going on?” I inquired, doing my very best to keep my tone light.

Bo turned back towards me.
 “We need to stop the bulldozers from getting here.  It’s the best way to prevent any demolition from taking place.  So we build tripods across the roads preventing any gas-guzzling vehicles from getting here.  We send two or three people to sit on top of the tripods meaning that the bulldozers can’t pass through without knocking down them down and potentially killing them.  Murder for holiday homes is not a headline that these corporate soul-sellers enjoy.”

I must have still looked puzzled, because he explained further.
 “We need materials to build the tripods from.”

Realisation hit me.
 “You need to cut down trees.”

Bo’s face looked pained.
 “Yes.  But only the young slender ones.  And it’s for the greater good.”

“I told you we should have taken scaffolding from that builder’s yard,” the girl snapped.

“Well, we didn’t,” he shot back at her.  “Just pick the smaller trees on the edges of the woods.  We don’t have a choice.”

“I am not a tree-killer!”

“If you don’t do this,” he said, evenly, “then all these trees will be slaughtered!”

I nudged Beltran’s arm.
 This didn’t seem like an argument that we ought to get ourselves involved in.  Besides, we had the information we needed.  Our murderer wasn’t here.  The Fae nodded at me, and we both quietly slipped away, leaving Bo and the girl continuing to argue and bicker.  As much as I understood her position, Bo was making sense.  If these tripod things stopped vehicles from getting here, and the only thing that the tripods could be built from were trees, then the ‘greater good’ would indeed have to prevail.  I’d just have to hope that the dryads saw it that way too.  At least I knew their habitats were much larger and older than any of the trees the protestors would end up using.  I shrugged.  As he’d said, you kill a few to save a lot.

It was just a shame that thought would come back to haunt me so much later.

Chapter Nineteen

After leaving Beltran at the edge of the encampment, with strict instructions to be alert for any strangers trying to approach and inveigle their way in, I picked my way back towards Corrigan.  As far as I was concerned, things were looking good.  The protestors were all set up and clearly deeply involved in the business of stopping any development from even starting to get going.  The evil bastard that had killed Mereia was, at least according to the Batibat, going to show up soon – and he had no reason to venture near the humans before he checked out his now defunct ward, meaning that I could kill him before he ended up hurting anyone innocent.  And the Lord Alpha of the Brethren really liked me.

I gave a little skip.
 I just couldn’t help myself.  It was amazing the way that life could turn around and give you a great big sloppy kiss on the chops right when you were least expecting it.  And speaking of kisses…

“Pssst!
 Mack!”

I twisted my head to the left, registering the figure of Aubrey hovering at the fringes of the trees and holding aloft a large pizza box.
 I grinned to myself.  This was just getting better and better.  I jogged over to him and smiled.

“I got you the Meat Feast,” he said anxiously.
 “I hope it’s alright?”

I gave the ex-vamp a reassuring nod.
 “It’ll be perfect, Aubrey, thank you.”

The pleasure on his face was evident.
 Perhaps he wasn’t so bad, after all.  I made myself a promise to do everything I could to be nicer to him from now on.  He was trying his best to adjust to his new existence.  The least I could do was to be more patient with him.

“Can you do me a favour now?” I asked, not wanting to compel him, but rather to treat him like an equal.

His eyes lit up.  “Of course.  What?”

“Aubrey,” I tutted, “don’t agree to anything unless you know what it’s going to be first.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively, and with an unnerving trust in me.  Still, it was probably better than hysterics and tears.  “What do you need?”

“Can you make sure that no-one disturbs either me or Corrigan unless it’s important?
 You know, unless the prick who killed the dryad shows up or there’s something dangerous around?”  I wasn’t about to be interrupted again this time.  I had a plan.

“I will do that, Mack, no problem.
 I’ll make sure that fat woman doesn’t appear either.”

Somehow I had the inkling
that, thanks to the fear I’d seen on the Batibat’s face when I’d broken the ward, she was going to make sure she was as far away as she could possibly get.  But I nodded my thanks at Aubrey anyway, and took the pizza box from him.  The heavy scent of cheese and garlic floated up to me.  I hoped Corrigan enjoyed fast food.

With a meaningful look at Aubrey, hoping that he realised that the figurative ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was also for him, I turned away and headed back out towards where I knew the Lord Alpha was.

The sky was starting to darken, the sun dipping below the tree line and streaks of burnt orange and gold signalling the close of the day.  My stomach was squirming with nervousness, but I pushed down the feelings as best I could.  As sure as I was that it wouldn’t be long before we’d be interrupted by the arrival of my current nemesis, I needed to do this first.  Nothing in my life had ever seemed this important – or this scary – before.  Still under the cover of the few remaining trees, I stopped a few feet away from the small clearing where I knew Corrigan to be and swallowed hard, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth together.  Then I forced myself to relax and stepped out.

Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.
 Corrigan was sitting down on the ground, his long muscular legs spread out in front of him.  Next to him was a chequered cloth, laden with gleaming silverware, two long-stemmed glasses, and a picnic basket.  There was even an ice-bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled inside.  When he saw me approach, he sprang lithely to his feet.

His green eyes, with hints of warm gold flickering within their depths, watched me carefully.
 I stared at him, my mouth dropping slightly.

“Hello, kitten.”

My tongue seemed to be clawed to the roof of my mouth.  Corrigan sighed and raked a hand through his hair.  “Look,” he said, “I know this isn’t ideal.  I’m not trying to make light of the terrible things that happened here and this isn’t a celebration.  But, in view of the fact that we have to stay for now, and that you promised me dinner, I thought that maybe we could at least manage some food.”

His eyes drifted down to the pizza box in my hands, and I gave him a shy half-smile.
  “You beat me to it,” I said softly.

A slow lazy grin, tinged with just a hint of surprise, spread across his face.
 “Where did you get pizza from?”

“I had a little help from Aubrey,” I admitted.
 “Where did you get the posh picnic?”

“I arranged it earlier
when you went off to talk to the dryads.”

We both remained standing there, just looking at each other.
 I bit my lip.  Corrigan’s eyes moved to my mouth, then back up to my eyes again.  Without looking away from him, I knelt down, and placed the pizza box carefully on the cloth, then stood back up again.  A look of mutually surprised understanding passed between us.  My heart thudded.

“Last chance to back out, kitten,” he said quietly.
 There was a hopeful wariness on his face.

“I told you not to call me that, my Lord.”

A predatorial smile curved its way across his mouth.  I smiled back.  Then we sprang at each other.

Corrigan’s lips were hot against mine as I pressed against him with an insatiable, insistent need.
  He tasted warm and masculine, with just a hint of toothpaste mintiness hovering in the background.  He raised up one hand, twisting his fingers through my hair, while the other curved tightly round my back.  I wrapped my arms around him, luxuriating in the feel of his tight trembling muscles under my skin.

His hand moved down to my bottom, squeezing it and pulling my body even closer against his, then his lips left mine and began moving down my throat, nibbling and nipping downwards.
 I moaned and clutched him tighter, all semblance of rational thought completely leaving me.  His breath was scorching hot against my skin and, deep inside, my bloodfire matched it, swirling around with heated seductive need.  Corrigan shifted his weight ever so slightly, causing both of us to stumble and fall backwards, me on top of him, with an answering crash of breaking glass as one of our feet connected with the ice-bucket and sent it flying into the champagne flutes.  I laughed and half-sat up, straddling him with my legs, my hands gripping his broad shoulders.  Leaning over him, I smiled down.

“Looks like you’ve found yourself in a rather compromising position, my Lord.”

He half-growled back at me, hands on my waist, and flipped me round in a movement so swift that it took my breath away, completely reversing our positions, his body hot and heavy against mine.  Then he curved his head down and whispered in my ear, “Not for long, kitten.”

His mouth found mine again,
stifling whatever response I could possibly have managed to muster.  One of his hands was snaking its way under my t-shirt, searing against my skin.  Sod this.  I pushed him back slightly, forcing him to half sit up, then I peeled off my t-shirt and flung it away to the side.  He grinned down at me then gestured to himself, so I reached out and undid the first button on his crisp white shirt, then the second and the third.  When I fumbled on the fourth, I cursed and gave up, pulling at the fabric and ripping the remaining buttons off.  Corrigan just raised his eyebrows at me in amusement, then shrugged out of the rest of his shirt, throwing it to the side so that it sailed through the air and joined my t-shirt in a messy heap on the ground.

I stared up at him for a moment, his broad tanned chest with smooth skin and erect nipples, then I reached up and ran my hands over him, reve
lling in the feel of his body.  He groaned and leaned downwards again, crushing my body and kissing me hard before moving down my chest, his hand cupping one breast while his mouth attended to the other, sucking at it through the soft satiny fabric.  The barrier of my bra annoyed me, and I felt the faintest flicker of embarrassment that my underwear was considerably more functional than pretty.  I needed to feel his lips on my skin, not teasing like this.

“Corrigan,” I groaned.

He understood and half lifted me up, undoing the clasp at the back with a deft movement that any well-advertised Latin lover would be proud of, and pulling it away, until it remained caught around just one of my arms. Then he returned his mouth to my breast, gently nipping and pulling with his tongue and his teeth until I could barely breathe. His hand moved up to my shoulder, caressing the deep marks of my Draco Wyr scar, and making me shiver.