Page 99 of Their Blood Rite

‘Peachy,’ I groan back.

‘What happened?’ he helps me up.

‘I couldn’t hold on.’ I stride back to the corpse and rest my hands on him again, but the connection won’t come. I feel it, but I can’t get a grip.

‘We could bring in something else for her to drain? Archie suggests. ‘A cat or something? See if that gives her more of a boost?’

‘Why don’t you let me use your blood,’ I suggest. ‘That worked nicely last time.’

‘No thanks, Pix,’ Archie smirks. ‘That gave me the headache from hell.’

‘I’m not killing a cat to talk to a dead man. Not now we know he definitely came for you. And the eye thief. Whoever that is.’ Shaking my head, I let go. ‘I can’t get a grip, and it’s hurting my head to try.’

‘It’s fine,’ Shaw says. ‘You did what we asked.’

‘I’m curious to know about the missing eye thing, though.’ I look at the corpse. ‘Why would someone dig up a bastard like LeSaint and take his eyes?’

‘Do you care?’ Shaw asks. ‘You pissed on the man as he lay dying at your feet. He tried to violate you with a knife.’

‘I’m not exactly sad that someone stole his eyes, but I think we should know why. That’s dark magic. Are you sure I can’t use Archie’s blood again? See if we can find out what he was talking about?’

‘No, you fucking can’t!’ Archie scoffs indignantly. ‘And if you want to use my blood, you can bloody ask me. Not Shaw.’

‘There’s no need,’ Shaw replies. ‘We’re pretty certain we know what it was. It was a wraith. We killed one whilst you slept when it wandered onto our lands.’

‘A wraith?’

He nods. ‘They stray from the mountains sometimes. Like to eat eyes and such. Especially from fresh corpses. We killed it, so there's no need to worry, Pix.’ He holds open the door and gestures for me to leave. ‘We’re done.’

I watch him for a moment, uneasy at this sudden revelation. Unsettled by how easy it’s resolved.

A wraith. That’s it?

‘Come on, Pixie,’ Archie says, taking my chain and tugging at it. ‘This place smells like dead arse. Funny story. I actually know what that smells like. Five years ago-’

‘Oh gods,’ I groan, following behind him. ‘Please, not another disgusting story.’

Waking, I sit and stretch my sore and sluggish muscles and see darkness seeping in through the window. It’s the third night to pass since I was attacked at the waterfall and several hours since Shaw blew that strange sleep dust in my face. One minute, we were talking. The next… lavender and dreams.

The chain around my neck is untethered, and I’m free to move as I wish.

I rise, wash myself, and dress. They’ve left some clothes out for me at the far end of the bed. A couple of dresses and some trousers that are much smaller than anything they would wear. Trousers my size. Made for me. On some hangers are a few shirts, jackets, and warm cloaks. Again. My size and brand new.

I’ve never had clothes bought for me. I’ve only ever worn hand-me-downs or things I stole from girls who pissed me off back home. The material is excellent. Smooth and feminine but thick and durable. On the floor are two pairs of shoes. Some black lace-up boots and some silver sandals.

I pull on a pair of dark blue trousers and a black shirt, tuck the chain necklace in, and head out the door.

In the kitchens, I pick at the leftovers I saved from the meal the guys made me. It’s on the cusp of going bad, but it will do for now.

‘Hello,’ greets a familiar voice.

Looking up, I see the banshee. Her bright eyes look at me closely, seemingly intrigued.

‘Evening,’ I reply. ‘Can I help you?’

She smiles, her red lips wide and sharp teeth glinting. ‘I heard you had a little trouble with some soldiers, and you got hurt.’ Her lip pouts out in mocking sympathy. ‘Are you okay?’ she coos as if talking to an infant.

‘Fine.’ I take another bite of bread. ‘Strange you didn’t sense the danger. Isn’t that the whole reason you’re here?’

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