Page 52 of Their Blood Rite

‘Fine,’ she huffs. ‘Keep your pet all for yourselves. But unless you want her to starve to death, you will have to fill your kitchen with actual food, Master. She will not last long on scraps or any of the nasty rotten things you keep around here.’ She looks at me. ‘And I recommend keeping a close eye on her beyond the safety of your bedrooms. I would hate to wail for her if one of your friends corners her in a hallway.’

‘Banshee. Fuck-off!’ Archie says slowly and through his teeth. ‘Now.’

‘Yes...Master.’

I gasp and stumble back, tripping over and falling flat on my backside, as the girl fades into orange smoke.

‘S-she just faded!’ I point to the now empty space. ‘She just-’

‘Yeah. Banshees do that.’ Archie holds out his hand to help me back up.

‘Banshee?’

‘Yeah.’ He pulls me up, picks up the plate, sniffs it, and hands it to me. ‘Eat. You have to get your strength up.’

I take it as he starts rummaging in the wardrobe.

‘I didn’t know there were any banshees left. I thought they died out.’

‘There’s not many,’ he tells me. ‘We grabbed her a few years back and tethered her to us and this house.’

‘You can do that with banshees? Trap them?’

‘If you know how.’

‘What’s her name? I did ask, but she didn’t say.’

‘That’s because she can’t speak her own name. And if you or anyone else speaks her name out loud, it frees her from confinement to us. A great little tether enchantment, don’t you think?’ He tosses me a long black coat. ‘Put that on. It’s chilly. I’m sure Shaw won’t mind you wearing it.’

I slide it on. It’s far too big for me and smells of smoke and lavender, but it’s thick and warm and creates a little sense of protection. I wonder if it would stand a chance against Archie’s claws.

Doubtful.

‘So you make a habit of trapping and stealing powerful creatures?’ I accuse.

‘Only the pretty ones,’ he replies with a wink.

‘I’m going outside?’ I ask.

‘You’re asking a lot of questions. Just do as you’re told, yeah?’

‘Why do you have a banshee?’

‘Seriously? Another quest…’ He lets out a groan. ‘They sense disaster and grief yet to come.’ He concedes. ‘She’s tethered to us. We’re her masters, so if disaster or grief are heading our way, she lets out a wild shrieking warning.’ He throws back his head and lets out this high-pitched wail, waving his arms wildly in the air. Then he looks at me, thoroughly amused. ‘Good to have a heads up, you know?’ His gaze lands on the plate of food. ‘You gonna eat that?’

‘Not hungry. You captured a banshee and tethered her to you as an alarm? Don’t they eat flesh? Won’t she eat you?’

I can’t get my head around this. A banshee is a fiercely dark and dangerous creature that dwells in the deepest and dankest swaps. Swamps so wild no man can reach them.

‘They eat tongues and eyes. Pluck them right out. Man. Woman. Child. Animals. They’re not fussy. And the question of you eating was more of an order,’ he says, nodding to the plate. ‘Eat it, or I’ve been told to shove it down your throat. Come on.'

He nods again to the plate. I eat, biting into the bruised apple and stale bread.

‘Good girl.’ He snaps the chain, separating me from the bed, and pulls it.

I snatch it and refuse to move. He looks back, a little amused at my defiance.

‘Don’t call me a good girl. I’m not your good fucking girl. I’m your prisoner. I’m like the banshee you stole and sealed up in this…’ I look around the room. ‘Whatever this place is.’

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