Bloodlust (Blood Destiny #5)

Bloodlust (Blood Destiny #5) Page 12

I searched the page for any signs as to who might have written it. They were going to feel my wrath. Except there was no hint anywhere of the author’s name. My mouth twisted as I stared angrily at the article. Could it have been Corrigan himself? Was this his way of getting back at me? I shook my head. No. He might have been hurt to the core by what I’d done to him, but there was no way that he’d be this stupid. It had to be someone else. I took in a gulp of air and held it in my lungs, trying desperately to compose myself. I had to focus on the matter at hand – interrogating this Unseelie Fae about Endor – and not my own sorry state of affairs. I exhaled slowly, focusing on the calming techniques that I’d learnt at anger management. Eventually I managed to force my muscles back into a more relaxed position. I’d just have to worry about what the results of the apparent exposé would be later.

Typing in ‘Circle nightclub’ into the search engine, I took another deep breath. Focus, Mack. I clicked on the first result that came up and a sleekly designed website appeared. I made a note of the address, then searched the rest of the pages to see what else I could dig up. Other than promising an exclusive clientele, designer cocktails and heart-popping beats, there was little other information. Tarn, the nightclub’s owner, was conspicuously absent. I’d have to hope that his lack of presence in the virtual world didn’t translate into the real world as well. If he wasn’t going to be at the club tonight then, in the mood I was in, I might not be responsible for my actions.

Switching quickly over to email, I sent the council members an update on what had happened with Wold. Or rather what hadn’t happened with Wold. I included that Slim hadn’t yet uncovered anything helpful, but left off the information about Tarn. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just yet. I instructed them to tell me what they were up to, and to forward on the list of other planes that they were going to start investigating, and finished with a curt demand for Staines to meet me the following afternoon. I hadn’t forgotten about his alleged desire to keep me firmly out of the loop as far as Wold had been concerned, or his orders to do whatever was necessary to extract more information from her. Despite my words to Alex about not wanting to lose my temper, it was high time I put the werebear in his place. If Corrigan thought I was stepping on his toes by doing so, then tough.

I powered down the laptop and closed my eyes. I might not entirely trust him after the events at Alcazon, but I was going to need some help and guidance with this venture and Solus was going to be the best person to provide it. Without raising my voice, I softly called out his name. Nothing happened. I tried again. When all that resulted was the answering silence of my little flat, I peeled off the surgical tape and cotton wool from my arm and started to pick at the already forming scab. I knew that he’d have registered my call, wherever he happened to be, but I was also aware that unless he thought it was an emergency, he’d probably take his sweet time in getting around to showing up. I didn’t want to wait.

A tiny drop of blood squeezed out. Using my index finger, I wiped it off then went to my front door and opened it, wandering down the corridor and back into the outside world. I smeared the fleck of blood onto the grey of the pavement, then stood up and leaned against the wall. It didn’t take long. There was a buzz in the air behind me, as Solus winked into existence, clearly choosing to materialise himself from within the building so as to avoid any surprised human eyes catching sight of his ability to appear from nowhere. I turned to face him, noting the tentative smile on his handsome face. Without saying a word, I gestured him to my flat, then followed him inside and firmly closed the door behind us.

Solus scanned my face. He was quite obviously desperate to find out exactly what had transpired to cause me to have a huge bruise splashed across my cheekbone, and one very swollen and painful eye, but the air of awkwardness between us thankfully prevented him from doing so.

“What’s up, dragonlette?”

“I need to get into the Circle nightclub tonight and talk to Tarn, its owner. Can you help?”

A shadow passed across his indigo eyes. “It’s not a very friendly place.”

I shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m not a very friendly person.”

His jaw clenched. “Are we still friends?” he asked softly.

“I understand what happened and why it happened, Solus. I signed on, remember? But I’m pissed off that you couldn’t have spoken to me about it beforehand. I thought that I could trust you to have my back.”

“I do have your back, dragonlette. I’ll always have your back. I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but…”

“But the Summer Queen demands your obeisance,” I finished.

“She’s only trying to do what’s best for everyone.”

I sighed heavily. “As are we all.” I eyed the Fae. If I could forgive Aubrey for what he’d done in the past by being practically responsible for the deaths of two of my friends, then I guessed I could forgive Solus for not warning me beforehand about what was going to happen at Alcazon. “It’s okay. I get it. And it’s done now, let’s just move on.”

Solus’ eyes searched mine, then he seemed to relax. “Did you read the book?”

I nodded mutely.

“He’ll come around, dragonlette. Once all this is over, he’ll realise the error of his ways and the two of you can live happily ever after.”

I wasn’t quite so sure about that. Before I could say anything, however, a mischievous gleam lit up his face. “And if Corrigan doesn’t, I’m always here.”

I shot him a look of exasperation. “Who translated the book, Solus?”

“Me.” The surprise must have shown on my face because he elaborated further. “I didn’t want everyone knowing what was in it. I love my extended Fae family but, well, they are Fae. They’re not always known for their discretion.”

“Does the Summer Queen know what’s in it?”

“Only the bare bones.” He turned serious again. “She doesn’t know that there might be another, you know, another Draco Wyr hanging around somewhere.”

I scanned his face, trying to ascertain whether he was telling the truth or not. Eventually satisfied, I shrugged. “It’s not definite that there is. And even if I do have a twin, I think the best thing they could do is stay as far away from me as possible.”

He looked confused, so I explained about the article I’d just read on the Othernet. A flicker of pure rage was momentarily visible in his eyes, before he quickly masked it. “Do you want me to try and find who wrote it?”

Focusing on more important things, I shook my head. “Not right now. I need to concentrate on Endor. Aubrey seems sure that this Tarn bloke might know something about him. I need to find out exactly what.”

“I meant what I said before, dragonlette; it’s really not a very nice place.”

I raised my eyebrows slightly. “Are you suggesting that it’s going to be too much for me to handle?”

“God forbid,” said Solus in mock horror. He looked me over critically. “We will need to do something about your outfit first though.”

I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Dragonlette, sometimes you are very sweet.”

I growled at him. He laughed musically. “Give me half an hour. I’ll sort you out.”

The air began to shimmer with streaks of purple again. Before he could vanish, I called out. “Solus, my fucking name is Mack.”

He winked at me, merriment dancing in his eyes. “’Course it is, dragonlette.”

I rolled my eyes. Idiot.

Chapter Nine

Standing in the cool night air outside the nondescript door to Circle, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I picked at my clothes, grumbling to Solus. “I can’t believe I let you persuade me into this stupid get-up.”

“Dragonlette, you look gorgeous. And besides, if you want to fit in, this is what you need to do. You won’t have any hope of getting close to Tarn unless you pique his interest. This outfit will certainly do that.”

I stared down at myself. I looked like some kind of S & M dominatrix, clad as I was in a shiny lacquered skin-tight jumpsuit. A studded belt was cinching in my waist, and the top half was designed to be like a corset, laced together and pushing up my breasts to create an alarmingly overt cleavage. To make matters even worse, I had on knee high stiletto boots. Given my predilection for being entirely unable to wear high heels of any kind and not fall over, it didn’t bode well. The very snug fit of the outfit also meant that there was nowhere I could conceal a weapon. I tried to experiment with shoving the daggers into my boots, but the leather outlined them in such a way that their presence was too obviously advertised to get away with. Solus had convinced me that I wouldn’t get inside if I had any form of weaponry on me, so I’d grudgingly left them behind, figuring that I had other tools at my disposal should they be so required.

The Fae had kindly ministered to my swollen eye, helping along the healing process so that at least it was starting to re-open somewhat, improving my vision. He’d been able to do little about the bruise itself, however, so the overall effect when coupled with the outfit was, well, striking. Solus had insisted I leave my hair down and I kept fidgeting with it while we waited for the door to open.

“Stop that,” he hissed at me, as a small section of the door was drawn back and the unmistakable features of an ogre scowled out at us.

“Whaddyawant?”

Solus swept a dramatic bow. “Lord Sol Apollinarius, and companion, requesting admission.”

The ogre grimaced at him, then looked at me. “No humans allowed,” he grunted.

“I’m not human,” I said, calmly.

“She’s a shifter,” Solus interjected. “A were-hamster.”

The ogre stared at me unfathomably, then snapped the little wooden portal shut. The sound of several locks being undone reached my ears, and the door swung open. Licking my lips somewhat nervously and concentrating on not falling over as a result of my ridiculous footwear, I stepped over the threshold. Almost immediately, loud thumping music filled the space at a level of decibels enough to make me frankly astonished the sound hadn’t been audible on the street.