The Bitter Seed of Magic

popping out of the ground.

Five.

The room kept growing, and more wooden chandeliers dropped down on ropes from the high roof, their candles springing into flaming light as they did so.

Four.

The figures shrank into the distance.

Three.

I focused on the Knock-back Wards on the double doors.

Two.

‘Somewhere safe for everyone,’ I prayed.

One.

I cracked the magic—

—and the world exploded.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Thick, clinging greyness surrounded me. ‘Pretty sidhe,’ crooned a deep, rough voice next to my ear, ‘I will be huffing, and I will be puffing, and I will be blowing your house down, said the vampire to the tasty sidhe.’ The voice changed to a high-pitched squeal. ‘Oh no you won’t, squeaked the tasty sidhe.’ The voice sank back into the deep bass. ‘Oh yes, I will, said the vamp …’ The voice trailed off, leaving a buzzing in my head.

My eyes were open, but the greyness was too thick to see through. I had a horrifying thought that the ton of power I’d used to crack the doors and Knock-Back Wards had destroyed the Old Donn’s place. Terror clutched my heart in a hard fist and I took a deep, calming, and oddly dusty breath. I pressed a hand to my T-shirt to check the pendant was still hidden safely beneath it, then catalogued what I could feel: I was lying on cold stone—the floor; behind me was a wall, also stone; there was something heavy on my legs, which were numb … I reached out and touched cold metal: I was trapped under one of the hospital beds; and the oddly dusty, gritty taste on my tongue was … actual dust. Okay, so I hadn’t destroyed everything. Just banged the place up a bit.

‘I will huff, and I will puff …’

I felt around until my fingers met with long, wiry hair. An orange glow began to penetrate the fog and the huge furry figure of the Old Donn took shape beside me. He was the one singing.

I squinted up at him. ‘What—?’ I coughed up a mouthful of dust, gritted my teeth against the stabbing pain in my shoulder—should’ve asked Jack for another of the Witch-bitch’s Pain-Numbing spells to go— then managed to croak out, ‘What’s with the singing?’

He knocked his hairy knuckles on one long horn. ‘There is a vampire at the door, tasty sidhe, and he says he’s afther entering.’ He leaned closer and whispered, ‘He says he can smell you.’

Was it Malik?

‘Can you let him in?’ I asked, my voice a little less croaky.

‘I cannot ask.’ He winked. ‘For he cannot see—’

A loud rumbling noise cut him off. It sounded like thunder directly overhead … or falling masonry. My pulse sped. Maybe I’d been a bit hasty in assuming I hadn’t destroyed the place. ‘What was that?’ I said, struggling up onto my good elbow.

‘You have huffed and puffed and now my house is blowing down,’ the Old Donn said sadly.

Fuck. The Stepfords!

‘But you can keep the place stable, can’t you?’ I asked urgently, almost sure he could, otherwise why sing in my ear? ‘And let the vamp in?’

His orange eyes glinted slyly. ‘I might be doing that, if you’d be agreeing to get me a new body and my freedom back?’

Damn aggravating tricky fae, always wanting to bargain when the chips, or rather bricks are down.

‘Let the vamp in and keep the place stable until everyone’s out,’ I said decisively, ‘and I’ll do a deal on the freedom.’ I paused, then added, ‘My terms, not yours.’

‘Not good enough,’ he bellowed.

‘All you’re going to get,’ I said flatly, mentally crossing my fingers. ‘But remember, if the place truly collapses and I fade, then you’ve lost your chance. You might not get another one for … oh, centuries, at least. So take it or leave it.’

‘Obstinate pretty sidhe.’ He stood and stamped his foot, and the floor shook. ‘Very well, then. I invite you in, vampire,’ he finished on a loud roar.

For a second nothing happened, then the bed on my legs went flying and a tawny-haired blur loomed out of the grey fog above me. ‘Genny, are you okay?’ the vamp said, wiping at my face. ‘Your head’s all gashed and I can smell your blood, like, everywhere.’ He sniffed his fingers and wrinkled his nose. ‘Though this isn’t all yours, is it?’

Darius. My fang-pet.

‘How did you get here?’ I asked, bemused.

‘This big hole just exploded in the Coffin Club’s wall,’ he said, his excited grin showcasing all four of his fangs. ‘We all crowded round, and as soon as I got near it I caught your scent.’

Somewhere safe. The magic had an odd sense of humour at times—although, with Malik’s protection … well, a faeling possibly couldn’t get safer than a vamp club in Sucker Town just now. Not to mention there’d be no one faster, stronger, or more able to sniff out the Stepfords in the dust than a load of vamps with super-senses.

‘Thank you,’ I murmured, sending my gratitude to the magic.

I told Darius what I needed. ‘So get them all in here, get them hunting, but tell them no fangs, otherwise they’ll be begging for Malik to rip their heads off before I’ve finished with them.’

‘Sure thing, Genny,’ he said cheerfully.

The hospital beds were made of iron, which thankfully meant the numbness in my legs was temporary, but also meant moving was out of the question, not to mention that my shoulder felt like a dwarf was using it as an anvil, and bouncing hammers off it, so Darius left me propped against the wall amidst the rubble of the entrance I’d made between the Tower and the Coffin Club. The big hole in the wall opened into the inner hallway of the club, and going by the heaps of coffin-shaped and decorated tat lying around the place, my magical explosion had extensively rearranged the gift shop; in particular the shop’s window display of DVDs, which was now a three-foot- high volcano of melted plastic and shattered glass.

I shrugged—the DVDs had been on sale, so they obviously weren’t hot ticket items—and watched with beady-eyed anxiety as the club’s vamps disappeared into the dust, and sighed with heartfelt relief as the first reappeared carefully pushing a Stepford mum-to-be in her wheeled bed, then lifting it over the rubble like the bed weighed nothing more than a tea tray. I relaxed into a weary, pain-filled stupor as more complaining Stepfords, crying babies and sullen nurses were rescued, and waited for Hugh to arrive with his boys in blue. The Old Donn sat with me, humming happily while he polished his horns with his loincloth.

After about ten minutes Darius walked out of the grey dust of Between with a white-coated body tucked under one arm and something dangling from his other hand.

‘Think he got caught up in the explosion,’ he said with a frown, as he held up Dr Craig’s head by one jug- handled ear. The neck was still dripping. ‘What do you want me to do with him?’

The Old Donn’s polishing stilled.

‘Probably better put him on ice until the police get here,’ I said blandly.

Darius grinned, saluted me with the head and strode off.

‘You seem to be havin’ a wee bit of a problem controlling your magic, pretty sidhe,’ the Old Donn said mildly.

He was right. I’d only meant to crack the gold chain fastening the Old Donn’s cape across Dr Craig’s shoulders, so as to break the Glamour hold he had over the Stepfords, but the power-boost I’d