Bloodrage (29 page)

“By the Founder,” agreed Thomas.  He reached into a bag beside him and pulled out two cans.  “Here,” he said, handing one over to me.  “I thought this might help.”

It was a luridly bright and familiar orange and blue, and happily cold to the touch.  I pulled the tab and took a gulp, then wiped the condensation from my fingers onto my robes, leaving a smear.  Thomas opened his and sipped at it delicately.

“Dudes!  Irn Bru? 
The Scottish nectar of the hungover?  You must be feeling bad.”

I wasn’t sure I could cope with Alex’s chirpy bounce.  “Fuck off.”

“Yeah, Florides,” mumbled Thomas.  “Fuck off.”

Alex stood in front of us, hands on hips, blocking the light, and shaking his head in mock derision.  “Oh, when will you crazy kids learn?”

Hah.  Alex Florides, the sudden voice of sensible adult reason.  Yeah, right.  I grunted at him and took another swig of the sweet indefinable fizzy orange drink.  “Where were you last night, then?”

He cocked his head down at me.  “Off trying to trace the resting place of the bones of a certain wraith,” he commented drily.

I sat up a bit.  “Tryyl?  Did you find him?”

According to what little I
now knew about wraiths, from scanning through a book the other day, if you had their original remains then you could easily rid yourself of them by burying them in consecrated grounds.  And, hey presto, no more annoying hissing shadow.

Unfortunately, Alex looked grim and shook his head.  “Sadly no, Mack Attack.  My inveniora was picking up zilch.  Wherever they are they are well hidden.  Some magic spell of concealment no doubt.”

Thomas looked confused.  “What are you two on about?”

I shook my head dismissively.  “Nothing.  Just some wraith that has a hard-on for a chunk of wood that the vamps have.  It’s not really anything to do with us anymore.”

Alex nodded seriously.  “Yeah, it’s not really our problem.  But as I found the thing for the undead dudes, they’re claiming that I need to sort out their wraith problem for them.”

“And you can’t,” I said.  It wasn’t a question.

“Nope.”

“Stupid bloodsuckers,” commented Thomas.  “They always think that they’re better than everyone else just because they live a little bit longer.”

“Well, not really live,” drawled Alex.

We all grinned at each other.  Thomas clambered to his feet then stuck a hand out down to me.  I looked at it for a moment then took it, and he helped me to my feet.
  “Let’s cancel our lesson for today, shall we, Mack?”

Thank the skies.  “Yes,” I said gratefully, “let’s.” 

I finished the can and then crumpled the aluminium in my hand.  It would be nice to cancel my counselling session with Bryant as well, but I didn’t think somehow that the Arch-Mage would consider having drunk too many tequilas the night before as a good enough excuse.  I sighed heavily, then made my excuses and left both Thomas and Alex to it.

Back in my room, feeling slightly invigorated thanks to the healing powers of Thomas’ gift, I picked up the two books that remained hidden in plain sight at the foot of my bed and looked down at them, frowning.  I’d promised Solus that I would give him the Fae book, but I had to get it out of the academy without anyone noticing first. 
Of course I’d managed before when I’d sneaked both of them out of the library, but that had been a relatively short distance to have to cope with and, even then, my theft had almost been discovered.  I really couldn’t think of any other option, however.  I’d just have to stuff it under my robes again, and underneath my armpit, and try not avoid waving my hands around or anything daft like that.  At least I’d only have to contend with one book this time, not two.  Solus wouldn’t require the dictionary to understand what the book said.  Flutterings of deep insatiable curiosity were squirming around inside me.  The weight of expectation about what information the book would provide about my heritage was not inconsiderable.  I hoped fervently that my plan was going to work and that I’d be able to weasel the details out of the Fae himself.

I pulled up my robes, and wedged in the
hardback under my right arm, then tried moving around a bit, to make sure that it was secure.  After a few adjustments, and finally feeling satisfied, I glanced down at the dictionary.  I’d have to find some way of returning it back to the library.  Figuring that was a problem for another day, I left it where it was and headed downstairs and back to the outside for the portal.  I’d managed up till now to avoid throwing up as a result of my previous night’s proclivities.  All that was now going to be undone, I thought ruefully, by forcing myself back through the portal.

It just so happened that as I emerged back out
side, concentrating on keeping the book firmly in its place so that it didn’t start to slip down again, the Dean himself was appearing through the gateway.  I noted sourly that he didn’t look any worse for wear thanks to the travel through, and swallowed down my sudden nervousness that he’d somehow discover or see the Fae book that I was,  instead heeding Thomas’ advice by walking up to him and inclining my head.

“Good morning, Dean Martin,” I intoned formally.

The Dean looked surprised for a moment, and a flicker of suspicion crossed his lined features.  However he nodded back to me and then passed me by, walking up the few steps into the main building and vanishing through the door.  Relief flooded through me that I’d managed that small feat of getting past him with the stolen book, as well as actually being able to be relatively pleasant without wanting to kill the academy principal at the same time.

The same mage from my previous visit last week tilted his head briefly, acknowledging my presence
, then he waved his hands.  There was a virtually imperceptible shift in the ripples of green and purple light that hung in the air advertising the portal’s presence.  I watched them briefly in fascination, marvelling at the ability the mage had to change the position of the exit from, what I presumed to be, hundreds of miles away.  Then he gestured me towards the gateway itself.  I thought I saw a trace of a smirk on his face, no doubt because the effect that such journeys had on my physical system had been broadcast across the magic community.  My head hurt too much to feel annoyed about it, however, so I just smiled sweetly at him, carefully raising my unfettered arm to him in thanks, and then walked through as if I didn’t have a care in the world.

As with all my previous ventures to anger management, I apparated onto the roof of the counselling offices.  And, as expected, I vomited violently upon arrival.  The hangover, unfortunately, seeme
d to make the entire business of portal travel even worse than it normally was, and it took me several moments to regain my equilibrium.  It occurred to me that every time I arrived, the traces of my previous week’s regurgitations were always conspicuously absent.  Whether that was down to the weather, or to some poor minion of the counsellor who was forced to clean up after weak stomached visitors like me, I had no idea.  The thought crossed my mind that maybe there were birds scavenging around who pecked away and ate the contents of my stomach, glad for a meal during the slim pickings of the last weeks of winter.  That made my stomach roll even more in revulsion so I forced myself to stop worrying about it.

I moved away from the unpleasant puddle, and relaxed my arm, letting the book slide down through my robes and out onto the ground.
  It would probably be safe to have it in plain sight now; I had no doubt that letting it suddenly appear from under my Initiate’s garb whilst I was in front of the receptionist would cause a raised eyebrow.  Better to make it look as if I was supposed to be carrying it with me, I reasoned.

Keeping my fingers crossed tightly that Solus would be there to take possession of the book – and that Corrigan would stay well away – I opened the rooftop door and began my descent.  As I passed the photos of previous well to do and happily recovered clients, I realised
suddenly that the framed picture that had puzzled me before was of a considerably younger Thomas, staring out from behind the glass with a slightly befuddled expression, as if he was equally surprised and confused to find himself there.  He looked very different to the Thomas that I now knew; he had much more hair for a start, and his face held the promise and hope of youth.  Well, well, well.  Wonders would never cease.  So Jeremy Thomas had been to anger management then?  He’d obviously refrained from telling me about it for a reason, and I wouldn’t be so crass as to raise it with him.  However, some of the things that he’d said to me before were starting to make quite a bit more sense, along with the way that he recognised when the rage was taking me over and making me abandon all reason, and how he could talk me down from it too.

As soon as I entered the counse
lling offices, it was clear that Solus was thankfully present.  He was leaning over the receptionist’s desk, holding her hands in his and smiling at her with the glint of a predator.  He kissed the back of her hand with a flourish.

“Sweetheart, I need to talk in private to this young lady here.  I don’t suppose you could…?” His voice trailed off as his eyes widened fractionally, beseeching her to leave us in private for a few moments.

“Of course, of course!”  The girl almost tripped over herself in her haste to please the Fae.

I watched, eyes narrowed, as she disappeared down the carpeted corridor and into one of the closed rooms.  Turning to Solus, I raised my eyebrows at him.

He tsked.  “Really, dragonlette.  I don’t have to resort to glamouring people to make them want to please me.  Most people are happy to do me favours.”  He reached over and rubbed my head.  I recoiled away at the intimate touch, but he merely smiled.  “Your hair is growing back.”

“Hair does that,” I said drily.  “And how are you, Solus?”

“Oh just wonderful, dragonlette.”

I scowled at him.  “Please don’t call me that.”

“Oh, but it suits you so.” Solus’ face took on a serious expression.  “Now tell me, my little fiery one, does this suit me?”  He spun around on one foot then faced me again, arms outstretched.

Nonplussed, I stared at him.  “What the hell are you on about?”

“The outfit, darling, the outfit!  Don’t you think it suits me?”

My eyes travelled up and down the length of his body.  Hold on a second…

“That looks familiar.”

He beamed.  “I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Solus, please tell me you didn’t break into the stronghold of the Brethren to steal one of the Lord Alpha’s suits?”

He patted the lapel.  There was a tiny gold brooch pinned to it.  I leaned closer, realised it was of a panther, and then moved back again, feeling slightly sick.

“As you wish, dragonlette.  I didn’t break into the stronghold of the Brethren and I definitely didn’t steal any of his clothes.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Solus.”

“Well, I think I look rather dapper.”

“It doesn’t fit,” I muttered.

The Fae looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Hmm, you’re right.  The Lord Brethren does have a rather, well, large body shape, doesn’t he?   Too much muscle and brawn methinks.”  He waved a hand dismissively.  “It’s no problem, however.  I shall simply have my tailors adjust the size.”

I shook my head.  If the stupid fairy wanted to dice with death by provoking Corrigan then I wasn’t going to get in his way.  Then my eyes narrowed slightly as a thought struck me.  Solus would never dress this way unless he was hoping for ultimate impact.

“Solus, is the Lord Alpha coming here?  Now?”  Absolutely the last thing I needed right now to cap my day off was a confrontation between the two of hem.

Fortunately for me, he shook his head mournfully.  “Alas, no.  His Lord Furriness had indeed been planning to make an appearance, but appears to have changed his mind at the last minute.  Some problem with the vampires, I believe.”  He winked at me.  “I’m sure there will be other opportunities for us to swap fashion tips, however.”

Good grief, what a thought.  I rolled my eyes expressively, deciding against pandering to the Fae’s ego by making a big deal about his idiotic plans.  Maybe if I didn’t make an issue of it then he’d abandon his suicidal actions.  I changed the subject and thrust out the book towards him.  “Here.  As promised for services rendered.  One sentient Fae book about dragons.”

Solus’ eyes widened greedily and he took it from me, turning it over in his hands and examining the cover.  “Well, well, well, this really is an interesting find after all.”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.  “When you’ve read it, then maybe we can get together.  You know to compare notes, swap interpretations, that kind of thing.”

I watched him carefully, but he barely reacted, his attention focused on the book itself.  “Sure thing, dragonlette.”  He flicked a glance at me and grinned, baring his sharp white teeth as he did so.  “Be seeing you.”

Before I could utter anything else, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind nothing other than a wisp of aftershave.  I sniffed cautiously, then closed my eyes briefly in dismay.  Solus was definitely playing with fire.  I had no idea what his endgame was, other than royally pissing off the Lord of all the shifters, but I was pretty sure that he was underestimating Corrigan if he thought he could get away with this kind of frivolous and foolish behavior.  But, I shrugged mentally, he was a big boy.  As long as I didn’t get caught in the cross-fire then he could do whatever he wanted.