Read Online Blood Faerie by India Drummond - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: India Drummond
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eat this morning. I’ll go grab something.” He gave the kid a wave and headed off without another word. Munro didn’t trust his balance, and he knew this would already come back to haunt him. He could make an excuse, but suddenly he wasn’t as worried about getting back to work. Something was messing with his head. He had to talk to Eilidh. She’d passed out too, in that very spot. She’d have to know what was going on, and he hoped she could tell him how to make it stop.
He headed toward the South Inch, relieved to feel her follow. By the time she caught up with him, he had sat on a wall near the green, just off one of the park’s paths. Far enough from public view that he probably wouldn’t run into anyone he knew, but close enough that she wouldn’t have to hunt for him.
While he waited, Munro worked out exactly what he’d say. He’d pin her down about what she saw the night of Dewer’s murder. Knowing what he did, he figured she had to be the “angel” Mrs Pentworth saw at the church. That meant Eilidh had to have seen the murder, or at least the killer. He’d get the information and then find a way to make sure Getty and Hallward got it, while at the same time leaving Eilidh out of it.
The more he considered, the more Munro realised two things. First, his gut believed her, no matter what his rational brain said. She wasn’t human. Anyone who looked at her for more than five minutes would realise that. If the ears didn’t give her away, those eyes would at least raise a few questions. Second, nothing good would come of exposing her to the rest of the world. At best, they’d think her some kind of illegal immigrant. Although she hadn’t said so specifically, he couldn’t imagine she had papers. Could a faerie even be a British citizen?
Just as he’d sorted out exactly what to say, Eilidh walked up. She slouched and covered most of her face with her hood, but he couldn’t mistake her walk or her presence. She lifted her swirling eyes to meet his. As he opened his mouth to speak, she said, “What manner of magic do you have, Munro?” Her voice pierced his mind, and its haunting clarity carried an accusation.
The word magic struck him as funny, and the concept threw him off his stride. His planned questions fled. He went from amused to confused. “What?” He’d heard her well enough, but his brain didn’t want to process her meaning.
“You cast your voice into the stone. I heard it.” Again, the accusation.
“I…” Munro was suddenly bereft of words.
“You can sense the flows, yes?” Impatient now.
“I…” He wished he could say something intelligent. But in thinking about her question, some of it did make sense. If he could accept that she was different, could he accept he might be too? He’d felt a flow between them. He hadn’t seen it with his eyes, but when he touched the cornerstone, something happened. Munro was so caught up in the memory that he hadn’t noticed how close Eilidh had come or how intently she stared into his eyes.
“You do not have faerie blood,” she said, but a question lurked in the back of her voice.
That made him laugh. “No,” he said. “I’m one hundred per cent human.”
Finally, she took a half-step back. “I’ve heard stories of humans who used to aid our people. Their magic was different, but it is said they could wield the Ways of Earth. Is stone your primary element then?”
She was speaking English, but none of her words made sense. He wanted to deny it, but some strange things had happened during the past few days.
When he didn’t answer, she looked around at the ground and bent to pick a stone from the path. “Does it speak to you?” She pressed it into his hand. The stone grew warm and amplified the pull he felt from her presence. When she withdrew her hand, he locked his gaze on hers. The silver swirls in her eyes danced. She must have felt it.
He closed his hand around the stone,
He headed toward the South Inch, relieved to feel her follow. By the time she caught up with him, he had sat on a wall near the green, just off one of the park’s paths. Far enough from public view that he probably wouldn’t run into anyone he knew, but close enough that she wouldn’t have to hunt for him.
While he waited, Munro worked out exactly what he’d say. He’d pin her down about what she saw the night of Dewer’s murder. Knowing what he did, he figured she had to be the “angel” Mrs Pentworth saw at the church. That meant Eilidh had to have seen the murder, or at least the killer. He’d get the information and then find a way to make sure Getty and Hallward got it, while at the same time leaving Eilidh out of it.
The more he considered, the more Munro realised two things. First, his gut believed her, no matter what his rational brain said. She wasn’t human. Anyone who looked at her for more than five minutes would realise that. If the ears didn’t give her away, those eyes would at least raise a few questions. Second, nothing good would come of exposing her to the rest of the world. At best, they’d think her some kind of illegal immigrant. Although she hadn’t said so specifically, he couldn’t imagine she had papers. Could a faerie even be a British citizen?
Just as he’d sorted out exactly what to say, Eilidh walked up. She slouched and covered most of her face with her hood, but he couldn’t mistake her walk or her presence. She lifted her swirling eyes to meet his. As he opened his mouth to speak, she said, “What manner of magic do you have, Munro?” Her voice pierced his mind, and its haunting clarity carried an accusation.
The word magic struck him as funny, and the concept threw him off his stride. His planned questions fled. He went from amused to confused. “What?” He’d heard her well enough, but his brain didn’t want to process her meaning.
“You cast your voice into the stone. I heard it.” Again, the accusation.
“I…” Munro was suddenly bereft of words.
“You can sense the flows, yes?” Impatient now.
“I…” He wished he could say something intelligent. But in thinking about her question, some of it did make sense. If he could accept that she was different, could he accept he might be too? He’d felt a flow between them. He hadn’t seen it with his eyes, but when he touched the cornerstone, something happened. Munro was so caught up in the memory that he hadn’t noticed how close Eilidh had come or how intently she stared into his eyes.
“You do not have faerie blood,” she said, but a question lurked in the back of her voice.
That made him laugh. “No,” he said. “I’m one hundred per cent human.”
Finally, she took a half-step back. “I’ve heard stories of humans who used to aid our people. Their magic was different, but it is said they could wield the Ways of Earth. Is stone your primary element then?”
She was speaking English, but none of her words made sense. He wanted to deny it, but some strange things had happened during the past few days.
When he didn’t answer, she looked around at the ground and bent to pick a stone from the path. “Does it speak to you?” She pressed it into his hand. The stone grew warm and amplified the pull he felt from her presence. When she withdrew her hand, he locked his gaze on hers. The silver swirls in her eyes danced. She must have felt it.
He closed his hand around the stone,
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