Page 7 of Honour Bound


  I sneaked another look. The demon in front of her launched a sharp kick to her stomach and she doubled over. The one behind stretched out his claw-like fingers and swiped at her neck; dark blood gushed from the wound, splattering onto the black earth. The first one spat something at her and stalked away in disgust. The second kicked her again and then did the same. She whimpered, curling into a foetal position. I rolled onto my back again, stared up at the clouds and breathed once more.

  When I was sure the two demons had gone, I floated back down and started running down the street. I had to get out of the city – and fast. I’d barely gone fifty metres, however, when something tugged deep inside me. I sighed, slowed to a halt and turned around.

  The female demon was still lying where the two pricks had left her. The wound she’d received to her neck looked pretty nasty – I didn’t know how much blood a Fomori demon had but unless her Gift was healing, she probably wouldn’t make it until nightfall. I sighed, then gritted my teeth and jogged back to her.

  She didn’t even twitch as I approached. ‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I said softly.

  She still didn’t respond so I moved a bit closer and crouched down. Taking a deep breath, I reached out and touched her shoulder to let her know I was there and I wasn’t dangerous. She flinched, cowering on the ground like the beaten thing she was.

  I peered at her neck. That demon had bloody sharp claws; blood was still pulsating out and, even with the mess of ripped flesh, I could tell the wound was deep. She was lucky it hadn’t slashed into her jugular. I bit my lip and tried to work out what to do.

  Moving back to give myself room – and because an injured animal is the most dangerous of all – I untied the harp and laid it carefully on the ground. Next I unzipped my jacket and took out the bottle of whisky. ‘Sorry, Taylor,’ I murmured.

  I pulled off the top and edged back to the demon. She smelt really bad, a combination of wet dog and rotting flesh. Or maybe that was me. Ignoring her trembling recoil, I knelt down and motioned with the bottle. She stared at me with wide red eyes. I moved the bottle towards her and she flinched away.

  ‘It’s alright,’ I told her. ‘It’ll help.’

  To show her, I put the bottle to my own lips and took a quick swig. It was surprisingly mellow. I swallowed and held the bottle out to her again. Her expression seemed resigned to whatever fate I was about to deal her and she tilted back her head. I tipped a small amount of whisky in her mouth; her face screwed up at the taste but she let it slide down her throat. Her lack of tongue didn’t seem to make any difference so I gave her some more. By the second swig, she seemed to be warming to the taste.

  I took my jacket off and pulled my T-shirt over my head. Despite her fear, the Fomori demon goggled at me. Given that she was naked, she’d probably assumed my clothes were part of my skin. My T-shirt had protected my torso from the worst of the Clyde and I was aware of how strange I looked – black hair, black face, black neck, white middle and black legs.

  I poured a tiny amount of whisky onto the T-shirt’s sleeve where the water hadn’t seeped through so much and used the underside of the material. I kept adding more, making the spot as sterile as I could, then held it towards her wound.

  ‘This is going to hurt,’ I told her. I grabbed hold of her hand and she stiffened, clearly waiting for a blow. When it didn’t come and I squeezed her fingers in reassurance, she relaxed slightly. Then I pressed the whisky-sodden material to her neck.

  She yelped but cut off the noise herself by clamping her free hand over her mouth. She wasn’t stupid; she knew what would happen if more demons heard her and came running. I wiped away as much of the blood as I could, hoping the alcohol would prevent any infection.

  There was a faint mark on her shoulder, a tattoo. A tattoo of a small Scottish lion on its hind legs with its front paws splayed out into the air. Shaking my head in confusion, I pressed the material against the demon’s wound and moved her hand up to hold it. ‘You need to keep it like that until the bleeding stops.’

  She blinked at me and I sighed. I pushed down on her hand once more, trying to make her understand. When I finally stepped away, she kept her hand in place. I nodded, satisfied. ‘I have to go,’ I told her. ‘I can’t stay here.’ My eyes drifted down the street. If those others demons came back… ‘I’m sorry.’

  She jerked suddenly and I leapt back, alarmed. She pointed at her chest and made a strange sound. I frowned, suddenly realising what she was doing.

  ‘Ay? That’s your name?’ She shook her head and tried again. ‘Bay? Hay?’ Damn it. ‘May?’ The demon nodded vigorously. ‘May. Your name is May.’ I met her eyes. ‘It’s nice to meet you, May.’

  Her face twisted into a strange semblance of a smile. I smiled back until she moved her hand away from her chest and pointed behind me. I turned round but the long street was still empty.

  ‘Yes. I have to go.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Look after yourself, May.’ I picked up my jacket, put it on and zipped it up, then I returned the harp to my back and gave her a wave. I really did have to skedaddle.

  I looked at myself ruefully. Even standing next to May, I looked like a half-dead zombie. Maybe demons really were a ghoul’s best friend.

  *

  I made better time than I expected getting back to the Veil and I located the same spot that I’d emerged from with relief. Nothing followed me and I saw nothing else. Wherever those demons had marched off to, it wasn’t here. Thank heavens for small mercies.

  I shook myself. The strange water from the Clyde had dried on my clothes and skin and black flakes fell off when I moved, like the world’s worst case of dandruff.

  I gave the dark, unforgiving landscape one last look; I never wanted to come back here again. It seemed that there were worse places than the Cruaich after all. Even Aifric Moncrieffe and his wily, manipulative, murdering ways seemed a piece of cake compared to this nightmare. I took a deep breath and stepped back through the Veil.

  The sensation as I passed through was as agonising as before and the noise as I came out onto home turf immediately put me on edge. My eyes darted round. Something was wrong; maybe one of the demons had invisibility as a Gift and had followed me here.

  When I realised what was making the noise, I simultaneously relaxed and grimaced. I nudged Taylor with my toe. ‘Wake up!’

  He mumbled something and rolled over. ‘Taylor!’ I crouched down and shook him. ‘You’re snoring loud enough to bring a horde of Fomori stampeding through the Veil. Wake up!’

  He grunted and opened his eyes blearily. ‘Huh?’ He fixed his gaze on me. ‘Integrity! You’re back!’ He sat up and pulled me towards him, enveloping me in a tight hug – then immediately let go. ‘You smell worse than a badger’s arse. And what on earth are you covered in?’

  ‘Long story,’ I told him. I glanced back at the Veil. ‘Let’s get home to the others and then I’ll tell you.’

  *

  I’d never before had such a rapt audience. All four of them were on tenterhooks, listening to my every word.

  ‘You helped a Fomori demon?’ Brochan appeared thunderstruck.

  I shrugged. ‘It seemed like the right thing to do.’

  Lexie goggled at me. ‘She wanted to kill you!’

  ‘Out of instinct rather than anything else, I think.’ I gestured at myself. ‘I do look like the creature from the black lagoon. Besides, being a pacifist isn’t about apathy and turning your back. It actually involves taking action too.’

  ‘I’ll have to take samples,’ Speck muttered, still focused on my appearance. ‘It’s like no water I’ve ever seen.’

  Lexie rolled her eyes. ‘Ever the scientist.’ She leaned forward. ‘And you levitated. Like hovered-in-the-air levitated?’ I nodded. ‘Can you do it now?’

  I furrowed my brow and concentrated. I managed to rise half a foot before the effort was too great and I sank back down again. ‘I think the power is fading just like with the other Gifts.’

  Brochan star
ed at me with unwavering intensity. ‘What were you thinking? When you saw the demon levitate?’

  I paused. ‘That I’d really like to be able to do that,’ I admitted. ‘I also suddenly felt dizzy and sick.’

  The merman scratched his chin. ‘And do you remember what you thought when you learnt the Bull could read auras? Did you feel dizzy then as well?’

  ‘It was the same,’ I said slowly. ‘I thought it was a cool Gift and I felt a bit sick.’ I paused. ‘You don’t think…’

  Taylor jumped to his feet. ‘It would be perfect. We thought that you were learning Gifts from others but it’s more than that. You see something you want and you can take it. You see a Gift you want and somehow you leech it into yourself. That’s why the Gifts don’t last. That’s why the demon lost his. You stole it from him.’

  I pursed my lips. ‘That doesn’t explain the teleportation. I never met another Sidhe who could do that. Not that I know of anyway.’

  Taylor snapped his fingers. ‘But the genie can teleport.’

  My mouth dropped open. ‘You’re right.’ I looked round. ‘Where is Bob?’

  Brochan gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘I locked him in your bedroom. I just couldn’t listen to him prattle on any longer. And he’s still making me sneeze.’

  I pushed back my chair and flung open the door. Bob was standing on my dresser, wearing what looked like a long cocktail dress and a pink feather boa. He was turning this way and that, admiring himself in the mirror. ‘Bob!’ I said sharply.

  He froze before slowly moving his head to look at me in comical astonishment. ‘Um, hi, Uh Integrity. I was just, um … never mind.’

  ‘You look beautiful.’

  He curtsied. ‘You don’t. You’re covered in some strange icky black stuff.’

  ‘Never mind that now.’ The others were crowding round at my back. ‘Bob, you remember yonks ago when I made that first wish and you teleported me to the Bull’s rooms at the Cruaich?’

  ‘Technically, I didn’t do that. The wish did that.’

  ‘Whatever. After that happened, I could teleport. Did you…’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘Did you feel any different afterwards?’

  He twirled the end of the boa in the air. ‘You mean did I notice that you’d stolen some of my power from me? Sure. Why do you think I spent so long falling through the air with you when you teleported out of the window? It certainly wasn’t through choice.’ He shrugged amicably. ‘There’s no need to worry though. I’m a genie. I have limitless powers which you can only dream of. My teleportation returned quickly enough.’

  I folded my arms and stared at him. ‘You didn’t think to mention this before?’ I asked through gritted teeth.

  ‘You didn’t ask.’ He gave an innocent smile. ‘I thought you already knew.’

  Brochan growled. ‘I’m going to take that damn letter opener you live in and…’

  Bob wagged his finger. ‘It’s a scimitar.’

  ‘Bob,’ I said, ‘this is important. After I visited the grove, someone attacked me with fireballs. I saw Byron use pyrokinesis. I couldn’t do that though even though I tried.’

  He tsked. ‘Because you didn’t want to. You’re a natural thief. Your subconscious only takes the Gifts that you want.’

  ‘For a limited time.’

  He shrugged. ‘Yup. Depends on the Gift though. You took aura reading and it lasted for ages, probably because you made the Bull your slave first so it was easier to draw more of it from him.’

  ‘He’s not my slave,’ I snapped.

  ‘He kind of is,’ Lexie whispered. I glared at her over my shoulder.

  ‘He didn’t say anything about losing his Gift.’

  ‘Again,’ Bob said with a weary air, ‘you didn’t ask him. You need to learn the right questions, Uh Integrity.’

  ‘He was probably afraid of showing you how weak he was,’ Brochan agreed.

  ‘Or,’ Speck added, ‘he was shitting his pants that he’d lost it completely and he was terrified of you and what you’re capable of.’

  ‘Either way,’ I mused, ‘no-one else knows I can do this.’ My brow furrowed and l looked at Bob. ‘Right?’

  ‘Right!’ he responded cheerily. ‘Now do you mind? I want to try something sparkly.’ He gestured at his outfit.

  ‘Fine.’ I turned to go.

  ‘Oh, Uh Integrity,’ he called out.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m really glad you didn’t die in the Lowlands. The harp will help.’ His tone was both honest and earnest.

  I blinked. ‘Uh, thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ He twirled the boa. ‘It’s probably a good idea if you don’t try to play it before the actual challenge.’

  I was instantly suspicious. ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘Bob…’

  ‘Trust me, I’m a genie.’ He waved at me. ‘Now, shoo.’

  Taylor, Brochan, Speck, Lexie and I sat down again in the kitchen. For a long time nobody said a word.

  ‘You realise what this means?’ Taylor said finally. We all looked at him. ‘You have the potential to be the most powerful Sidhe in the country. The most powerful being in the country.’

  I shivered. I wasn’t sure I liked that idea. ‘It’s nuts,’ I said, shaking my head.

  Everyone nodded solemnly. ‘It truly is,’ Brochan rumbled, scratching at his gills.

  I picked a flake of dried Clyde off my arm. ‘I should go and get cleaned up,’ I said. The shower was calling out to me, like heroin to an addict.

  ‘Sounds good,’ Speck said, with perhaps a little too much fervour. I guessed I really did smell bad. ‘We should probably try and get this harp cleaned up too. Goodness knows if it’ll work after the dip it’s taken.’

  I grimaced, glancing at the dirty instrument. ‘All we can do is try.’ Bob’s warning not to play the thing niggled at me. I hoped I wasn’t going to regret going to so much trouble to retrieve it.

  ‘Tegs,’ Taylor said when I was at the door. ‘What were the words?’

  ‘Hm?’

  ‘The words you found written in blood inside that house. Next to Matthew MacBain’s body. What did they say?’

  My reply was quiet. ‘Save us.’

  Chapter Six

  Despite my vociferous protestations, Lexie sold off some jewellery she’d held back from an old heist and paid for our transportation to the Cruaich. Last time I walked up the long winding driveway, I had to deal with a hundred gawking eyes. This time we still had onlookers but for a different reason. Lexie had hired a horse-drawn carriage and flirted with its owner to persuade him to drape it in the new, improved Adair Clan tartan – the old version shot through with lines of hot pink. It certainly wasn’t a tartan for the shy and retiring. I felt a little dismayed for my descendants, should I have any, who would have to endure it for generations to come. I did, however, really, really like it.

  Brochan and Taylor sat up front, essentially acting as my guards. It suited me; it meant I could lounge in the back like the Sidhe noble I was supposed to be and, more importantly, stay well away from the horses. If I thought about it long enough, I could still feel the ache in my arse from the journey on horseback to the Foinse last year.

  Even Speck was in on the action. He’d rigged up the carriage with some kind of overly boisterous speaker system. As we passed through the magical border and into the land surrounding the Cruaich, it cranked up with ‘I Love a Lassie’.

  When I threw him a look, he merely shrugged. ‘We want to make a grand entrance. There can’t be any sneaking in and pretending you’re not really here. The bigger the noise, the harder it will be for the other Clans to turf you out.’

  He had a point. Although technically speaking I was within my rights as a Sidhe to enter the Games, I wouldn’t put it past the Clans to find some way of stopping me from taking part. I had to do whatever was necessary to avoid that. In any case, thanks to the music we had an impressive audience by the time the carriage pulled up outside the Cru
aich’s entrance.

  Aifric Moncrieffe strode out as if he’d been expecting us all along. He beamed happily as I examined his face for signs of dissemblance. He’d fooled me before when I’d believed he was on my side. The Steward, however, was a far better actor than even Taylor. It didn’t matter how closely I stared at him, I saw nothing but warmth. I wasn’t likely to forget that he’d tried to poison me, though – and killed poor Lily MacQuarrie in the process. She’d known my parents as a child and had only wanted to help me out. Unfortunately it hadn’t done her any good in the end.

  Lexie muttered a curse under her breath and I squeezed her arm. ‘Appearances, remember? We don’t want him to think that we suspect him of anything.’ She remained tense. ‘I mean it, Lex. It could save our lives.’ We had to be alert to further attempts on my life; there was no point in asking for more trouble at the same time.

  It took the blue-haired pixie some effort but she managed to calm down and relax. I forced my mouth into a dainty smile and waited while Taylor, clad head to toe in a suit made out of the new Adair tartan, came and helped me down.

  ‘Integrity,’ Aifric boomed. ‘What a pleasure. It’s so good of you to come and support the Games.’

  I leaned forward, kissing him effusively on both cheeks and looking for all the world as if I’d missed his presence terribly. ‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ I said. Then I raised my voice to make sure no-one missed my words. ‘But I’m not here to support the Games.’

  Aifric’s smile wavered slightly. ‘You’re not?’

  ‘Goodness no!’ Careful, Integrity, I warned myself. That was dangerously close to a simper. I had to be sure not to overdo it. ‘I’m here to compete.’

  His mouth dropped open before he remembered himself. ‘Er, were you invited to participate?’

  Ha! He knew very well I wasn’t. I looked concerned. ‘Oh, I thought that any Sidhe could take part. Isn’t that what it says in the rules?’