Read Online Sweet Scent of Blood by Suzanne McLeod - Free Book Online
Authors: Suzanne McLeod
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half that age.
He stopped, held the office door open for me. I breathed in the familiar fresh smell of ozone that was Hugh and safety. ‘How are things?’
‘Fine, Genny.’ A large, gentle hand touched my shoulder.
‘I heard about the new boss.’ I briefly patted his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I,’ he rumbled. ‘But Detective Inspector Crane has an exemplary track record, and I’m happy to be working with her.’
I smiled at his diplomatic answer. ‘You’d have made a great Inspector, Hugh.’
‘Just wasn’t the right time for me, Genny. The DI’s a powerful witch, got a lot of experience here and in Europe; she’s just what the team needs.’
And even though she’s a witch, she’s still human, I added silently. Hugh might have been the first troll to make Detective Sergeant, four years previously, but he was still a troll. Life sucks sometimes, and not just for vampires.
I walked into the empty open-plan office and headed for Hugh’s L-shaped desk. It was easy enough to find - his was the only one clear of all but the essentials: a pile of paper coasters in a pink granite holder, three of the overlarge ballpoint pens manufactured for a troll’s fingers, and an electronic photo frame, currently showing a summer landscape of his mountain. Next to a tidy stack of files, his computer screen flashed a screensaver of the same view, this one taken in lightly falling snow.
Smiling, I asked, ‘So what’s with the goblin and you?’
‘Grandmother was concerned about some of the newer goblins being brought into London.’ He pointed me to his ‘guest’ chair as he sat down. ‘She asked me to be their Ardathair , that’s sort of a pastoral figurehead.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I frowned at his troubled face.
‘Sit down, Genny.’ Hugh placed his hands flat on the desk. ‘There’s something more important we need to talk about.’
So much for the catch-up. I dropped my bag on the floor, but instead of sitting immediately, I retreated to the water dispenser in the corner. ‘Did you want some, Hugh?’
‘What do you think you’re doing, Genny?’
Getting some water , I wanted to say as I filled the white plastic cup, but I heard the concern in his voice under the reproach, so I didn’t. ‘Hugh, it’s no big deal.’ I carried the water back to his desk. ‘I look at the victim, check her out for spells and let my client know if I find any.’ I sat down. ‘Job done.’
The cracks across Hugh’s forehead deepened. ‘There’s nothing to find. The standard tests for magic were all clear.’ He straightened one of his pens. ‘Then when Mr Hinkley brought up his concerns, Inspector Crane put a circle up herself and repeated them, and did some others. She even got an independent witch from another coven to confirm her findings.’ He gave me a level look. ‘No magic. Nothing.’
‘So that’s what I’ll tell him.’ I gave Hugh a small smile. ‘Once I’ve seen for myself.’
‘Genny, I shouldn’t be telling you this’ - he pressed his index finger against his lips - ‘but the most recent bites match the boyfriend’s dental mould.’
‘What about the blood counts?’
‘High levels of V1 and V2 as expected, VM3 present but inactive.’
I nodded. Vampire Venom and Virus - 3V - isn’t exactly what the name suggests; the scientist who discovered the different components back in the seventies was a fanatical Souler. He identified the clear fluid injected by a vampire’s small retractable fangs as a combination of hormones and proteins, only he decided it made more sense to promote it as a poisonous virulent disease, and back then the Department of Health agreed with him.
The Venom - V1 - part is the initial ‘infection’. It boosts production of the red blood cells and addicts the victim, which makes for the ideal blood-slave - lots of hot thick blood on tap, and someone who is dying (literally, on occasion) to have a vamp sink fangs into them. As the infection
He stopped, held the office door open for me. I breathed in the familiar fresh smell of ozone that was Hugh and safety. ‘How are things?’
‘Fine, Genny.’ A large, gentle hand touched my shoulder.
‘I heard about the new boss.’ I briefly patted his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I,’ he rumbled. ‘But Detective Inspector Crane has an exemplary track record, and I’m happy to be working with her.’
I smiled at his diplomatic answer. ‘You’d have made a great Inspector, Hugh.’
‘Just wasn’t the right time for me, Genny. The DI’s a powerful witch, got a lot of experience here and in Europe; she’s just what the team needs.’
And even though she’s a witch, she’s still human, I added silently. Hugh might have been the first troll to make Detective Sergeant, four years previously, but he was still a troll. Life sucks sometimes, and not just for vampires.
I walked into the empty open-plan office and headed for Hugh’s L-shaped desk. It was easy enough to find - his was the only one clear of all but the essentials: a pile of paper coasters in a pink granite holder, three of the overlarge ballpoint pens manufactured for a troll’s fingers, and an electronic photo frame, currently showing a summer landscape of his mountain. Next to a tidy stack of files, his computer screen flashed a screensaver of the same view, this one taken in lightly falling snow.
Smiling, I asked, ‘So what’s with the goblin and you?’
‘Grandmother was concerned about some of the newer goblins being brought into London.’ He pointed me to his ‘guest’ chair as he sat down. ‘She asked me to be their Ardathair , that’s sort of a pastoral figurehead.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ I frowned at his troubled face.
‘Sit down, Genny.’ Hugh placed his hands flat on the desk. ‘There’s something more important we need to talk about.’
So much for the catch-up. I dropped my bag on the floor, but instead of sitting immediately, I retreated to the water dispenser in the corner. ‘Did you want some, Hugh?’
‘What do you think you’re doing, Genny?’
Getting some water , I wanted to say as I filled the white plastic cup, but I heard the concern in his voice under the reproach, so I didn’t. ‘Hugh, it’s no big deal.’ I carried the water back to his desk. ‘I look at the victim, check her out for spells and let my client know if I find any.’ I sat down. ‘Job done.’
The cracks across Hugh’s forehead deepened. ‘There’s nothing to find. The standard tests for magic were all clear.’ He straightened one of his pens. ‘Then when Mr Hinkley brought up his concerns, Inspector Crane put a circle up herself and repeated them, and did some others. She even got an independent witch from another coven to confirm her findings.’ He gave me a level look. ‘No magic. Nothing.’
‘So that’s what I’ll tell him.’ I gave Hugh a small smile. ‘Once I’ve seen for myself.’
‘Genny, I shouldn’t be telling you this’ - he pressed his index finger against his lips - ‘but the most recent bites match the boyfriend’s dental mould.’
‘What about the blood counts?’
‘High levels of V1 and V2 as expected, VM3 present but inactive.’
I nodded. Vampire Venom and Virus - 3V - isn’t exactly what the name suggests; the scientist who discovered the different components back in the seventies was a fanatical Souler. He identified the clear fluid injected by a vampire’s small retractable fangs as a combination of hormones and proteins, only he decided it made more sense to promote it as a poisonous virulent disease, and back then the Department of Health agreed with him.
The Venom - V1 - part is the initial ‘infection’. It boosts production of the red blood cells and addicts the victim, which makes for the ideal blood-slave - lots of hot thick blood on tap, and someone who is dying (literally, on occasion) to have a vamp sink fangs into them. As the infection
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