Free Blood Faerie by India Drummond Page A

he needed her. Without her, they’d probably never find the guy—until he killed again. Munro didn’t want that to happen. He’d seen Robert Dewer’s face and the gaping bloody hole in his chest, and he never wanted to see anything like it again.
     
    Eilidh hesitated. He sensed her discomfort. Was it because of him specifically or simply because of his race? He waited patiently. It didn’t seem like she was about to bolt, so the least he could do was give her a minute. Despite the sense of urgency, he found the silence between them comfortable.

    Finally, she said, “I have decided to tell you of this blood faerie, Quinton. If I am going to be Watcher for this city, I will need help. It is not easy, you understand, to ask for the help of a human, but you are something more.” She paused. “And I like you. You know how to be silent.”
     
    Munro started to smile, but his smile faded as Eilidh told him what she knew of the murder.

Chapter 8
    Cridhe sat in the darkness of the craggy cave, staring at the twin hearts in the recess above. They beat in the slow time that human hearts did, and their matched pace made his faerie blood calm to meet their rhythm.
     
    Robert Dewer’s heart had veins of icy blue, indicating his impressive talents in winter magic. Cridhe had kept the small, wooden whistle Robert used to call the wind. He had not been close to Robert. But now, seeing Robert’s heart as it beat on the cold stone shelf, Cridhe said a prayer to the Father of the Azure to honour the sacrifice. Cridhe did not usually care for such things, but Dudlach would have insisted on the show of respect.

    The other heart, Jon Anderson’s, had the golden glow of rare fire magic coursing through it, pulsing in each chamber, imprisoned in the fleshy organ. Cridhe had kept nothing of Jon’s, but he hadn’t been the one to harvest Jon’s heart.
     
    Dudlach said they needed one of each of the four elements of earth to feed the source stone and finish the ritual. It had to be Jon first then. Among their faithful were already plenty of air and water druids. But another fire? No, unlikely. And best to do it before it became too difficult , Dudlach said with that knowing look.

    Cridhe knew the real reason was that Dudlach hadn’t liked Cridhe and Jon becoming…friends. Jon had understood Cridhe’s needs at all levels. But Cridhe hadn’t been able to refuse Dudlach’s demand. To confess an attachment demonstrated weakness.
     
    So Jon had to die. Cridhe stared at the heart, disturbed that he couldn’t feel Jon’s presence. He’d hoped that in preserving Jon’s magic, he would preserve some of his soul. It hadn’t worked, but still Cridhe sat and watched the beating heart. It dismayed him that Dudlach, the one whose voice he least wanted to hear, was the ghost who’d attached itself to him.

    Cridhe told the humans, the other faithful, that Jon betrayed them. He’d shown them his still beating heart and secured their loyalty. If Cridhe could kill him, the obvious favourite among the group, they all had reason to fear. Cridhe hated the lie, but he could not deny it had done wonders. They had seen the faerie’s magic, but this was so much more. Some were sickened and afraid, but two had shown a promising ruthless hunger when they’d seen Jon’s sacrifice. It was those two Cridhe went to speak with now.

    Cridhe had warded the cave so humans would have an aversion to entering it or even wanting to think too much about it, so he made his way to a nearby clearing where Aaron and Jay waited. They stood and bowed their heads when he approached. They were flawlessly subservient, and Cridhe enjoyed it. Not in the same way Jon had been, but he doubted he would again find someone so perfectly suited to him. Jon’s fire magic had flowed so effortlessly with Cridhe’s blood shadows. It created something—

    “Master?” Jay said, keeping his eyes lowered.
     
    Cridhe scowled at the interruption to his reverie. Stupid humans