Chapter One
I should make it clear from the start that a bogle wouldn’t be my first choice of drug dealer.
And Arbuthnot wouldn’t be my first choice of bogle. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a position to
be picky.
I’d spent the last three nights exhausting my other options, which was why I found
myself standing in front of Arbuthnot in a dark, brooding nook along Fleshmarket Close. I’d
known him for a dozen years, and I was certain that it had been at least another dozen years
before then since he’d abandoned his natural countryside habitat in favour of the city. I’d
never asked him why he’d come to Edinburgh; in my experience it is better not to know
about the skeletons in other people’s closets. Those doors are shut for a reason.
Arbuthnot’s watery eyes were fixed on a random point somewhere over my shoulder. It
made me feel I was about to be jumped from behind by one of his cronies, even though I
knew nobody was there. ‘I’ve got white dust, skunk and ’shrooms,’ he mumbled.
I ignored the flash of panic that clawed at my throat and remained still. Bogles don’t
like sudden movements. ‘I’m not looking for any of that,’ I said. ‘All I want is spider’s silk.’
All I ever wanted was spider’s silk.
‘All?’ Arbuthnot’s voice rose to a high-pitched squeak as if he didn’t already know
what I was there for. ‘All?’
‘I have the money.’
He twisted his head slowly from side to side, making his long, matted hair shiver. ‘Silk
is in high demand. There’s not a lot of it about, and the authorities are cracking down.’
The knot in my stomach eased. If he truly didn’t have any, he’d be extolling the
dubious virtues of his other products. Arbuthnot was simply trying to drive up his price. It
was a dance with which I was more than familiar.
I took a step back. ‘Oh. I’ll try somewhere else, then.’
His hand shot out, grasped my shoulder and pinched it hard. ‘I have some,’ he said.
‘Just not a lot.’
‘Is it pure?’
His answer was too swift to be anything but a lie. ‘One hundred percent.’
I maintained a blank expression but my spirits sank; I’d be lucky if it were fifty percent
pure, then. But I was out of options because the withdrawal symptoms were already kicking
in with a vengeance. I’d be hallucinating soon. I didn’t have time to find an alternative.
‘I’ll give you two hundred quid for ten.’ That would see me through to pay day when I
could find a different dealer with higher standards.
Arbuthnot wheezed, his derisive laugh echoing down the alleyway. ‘Five hundred.’
‘Three,’ I countered. I could manage that.
‘I won’t break even at three. But I like you, Daisy.’ He tapped his thin lips and
pretended to be deep in thought. ‘Tell you what, I’ll do you a special deal. Four hundred and
the pills are yours.’
I ran the numbers in my head. I still had to pay my electricity bill and I owed Kat fifty
pounds, but there was enough food in the cupboard to last me until the end of the month. It
could be worse.
‘Three-fifty.’
‘Four.’
‘Three-sixty.’
‘Four.’ He tilted his head and I recognised the dangerous gleam that suddenly lit his
eyes. ‘Offer less again and the price goes up.’
He was probably bluffing but unfortunately I didn’t dare test that theory. Arbuthnot had
the spider’s silk I needed, and that meant he had all the power. My position was too weak –
and I was too damned desperate.
I cursed inwardly then dug into my pocket until I found the crumpled wad of notes. I
thrust them in his direction. He all-but snatched the money from me, sticking his tongue out
as he counted it. He lost count halfway through and had to start again while my skin itched
and my hands trembled. Eventually he grunted in satisfaction and waved me away. ‘Jimmy’s
waiting at the bottom of the steps. He will sort you out.’
I nodded. Before I could twist away to collect what I’d paid for, Arbuthnot’s eyes
snapped to my face and met my gaze for the first time. ‘It’ll kill you in the end, you know.’
He was the last person I needed health advice from. And, yeah, it would kill me in the
end. Being an addict sucked but spider’s silk was the only thing I’d found that could control
the wild magic inside me. Before I’d started taking it, I’d been in real danger of inadvertently
killing someone because of my lack of self-control. I’d rather be an addict than a murderer –
though I wouldn’t tell any of that to Arbuthnot.
‘Yes,’ I said simply. ‘I know.’
I marched briskly down the well-trodden steps. The narrow gullies on either side,
where rivulets of blood from the butchers who used to do business here once flowed, had
been filled in decades ago but even so I stayed away from them. There was no sense in
treading over bloody history unnecessarily. It was important to me to respect the past, even
when it had no bearing on my future. Call it an odd quirk, if you like. We all have them.
Jimmy, a large, muscled human whose face was etched with a criss-cross of ugly, shiny
scars, held out a small, sealed bag as I approached. I took it from him and counted: ten little
white pills, each one marked with a crude S. I tried not to let my relief show, though I didn’t
have the patience or the willpower to wait. As soon as I turned my back on him, I fumbled
inside the bag for a pill and threw it into my mouth, holding it on my tongue until I felt the
familiar bitter fizz. Then I swallowed. Everything would be okay now. I would be okay now.
I waited for the spider’s silk to take effect. It was manufactured in a grotty lab
somewhere and had nothing to do with actual arachnids – not as far as I was aware. It was
only called spider’s silk because once you were caught in its web there was almost no chance
of escape, no matter how hard you struggled to free yourself.
Withdrawal symptoms started with shaking and nausea before moving on to
hallucinations, hysteria and palpitations. They usually ended up in total insanity followed by
cardiac arrest. I’d come dangerously close a few times in the past and I had no desire to
experience them again, regardless of the long-term risks of taking the drug.
I held my breath as the night sky slowly sharpened and my blood started to tingle. That
was when the high-pitched scream ripped through the chill air.
I whipped around, my gaze snagging with Jimmy’s. He blinked at me slowly and raised
his massive shoulders in a shrug. ‘Didn’t hear nothing,’ he said.
I hissed in irritation then sprinted in the scream’s direction.
I saw the woman as soon as I left Fleshmarket Close. She’d been backed into a corner,
her spine pressed against a doorway as her hands, still clutching her handbag, flailed in front
of her face. One of her shoes had come off, a high-heeled black-lacquered thing whose design
would do no-one other than the wealthy designer any favours. It lay uselessly on the cobbles,
the only obstacle between her and the snarling vampire who was on all fours in front of her.
Cumbubbling bollocks. I watched the vampire advance on her for a single frozen
second, then I rolled my eyes and launched myself at him.
What most people don’t realise is that vampires are stupid. The general public focus on
the idea that vamps are extraordinary predators with terrifying skills instead of the fact that
once they’ve latched onto a target they don’t notice anything else – even when they’re about
to be attacked themselves. Even when I’d leapt onto the vampire’s back, wrapped my arm
around his neck and begun to squeeze, the undead creature still only had eyes for its intended
victim.
The woman, whose terror had enveloped her like a shroud, squeaked. Unfortunately,
that sound only increased the vampire’s bloodlust. I grunted, doing my best to hold back his
foul, rotting body as his dirt-caked hands scrabbled towards her.
I tightened my grip on his neck but it obviously wasn’t enough, so I gritted my teeth
and smashed the elbow of my other arm into the side of his head. I heard the crunch of bone
as his cheekbone shattered. Needless to say, the injury didn’t slow him down – I wasn’t sure
that he’d even noticed.
I dropped my legs on either side of his body until I was straddling him, then dug my
heels into the ground to ensure that he couldn’t advance any further.
The woman began chanting a trembling litany, her words running into each other until
they were barely intelligible. ‘I don’t want to die, Idontwanttodie, Idonwanodie.’
I could feel the vampire’s sinewy muscles straining against me. My hold on him was
slipping and he jerked forward an inch. Then another.
‘Idonwanodie.’
‘Lady,’ I muttered, ‘you need to be quiet.’
‘Idonwanodie.’
Confronted with her own mortality, she was beyond hearing me. I yanked harder on the
vamp’s neck and was rewarded with a brief moan, but my hold wasn’t enough. I ran my
tongue over my lips and focused. It had rained recently and there was a helpful trail of
puddles to my right. I half-closed my eyes.
‘Idonwan—’
The dirty water from the largest puddle flew through the air and smacked the woman in
the face. She gasped, stopping her chant in favour of blinking rapidly in my direction as the
water dribbled down her cheeks and merged with her tears. Good. That was what I’d been
aiming for.
‘You’re panicking,’ I said, raising my voice so she could hear me above the vampire’s
guttural snarl. ‘I need you to grab your shoe and pass it to me.’ The woman stared at me
through her mascara-streaked tears. I tried again. ‘Pick up your shoe and give it to me.’
I waved my free hand in the air but that was a mistake because it relaxed my grip on the
vampire’s neck. He lurched forward, his fangs snapping.
I half-expected the woman to lose her brief return to sanity once again, but the vamp’s
lunge had the opposite effect. She darted forward, scooped up her fallen shoe and threw it to
me. Thankfully, I caught it.
Immediately I clutched the toe, twisted my wrist and slammed the pointed heel into the
vampire’s ear. Three inches of designer steel embedded itself in his head with a loud crunch
followed by a soggy squelch. Damn, that was satisfying. That silly stiletto had its uses after
all.
I let go of the vamp’s neck and he crashed forward, his skull thudding onto the damp
cobbles. As I stood up and brushed myself off, the woman rushed forward to give me a
grateful hug. I frowned and quickly held up my hand, indicating that she needed to stay back.
‘Don’t get too close,’ I warned. ‘He’s not dead.’ Not yet.
She squeaked again and jumped into the doorway as the vamp’s legs twitched. I circled
around his body and considered, then dug my hand into one of my back pockets and retrieved
an old receipt that was scrunched up inside it. It wasn’t ideal kindling but it would do in a
pinch.
Concentrating hard, I tossed the little piece of paper towards the vampire and it began
to smoke and curl at the edges. I concentrated harder until it finally caught fire as it landed on
the nub of the vampire’s bony spine.
I nipped around, grabbed the woman by the shoulders and hauled her away.
‘Wh-what?’
‘We need to get to a safe distance,’ I explained.
‘But—’
I yanked her another few feet further away. ‘Count to five,’ I told her.
I could feel her trembling but she did as I asked. ‘One, two, th-three,’ she stuttered.
‘Four, five.’
We stared at the vampire’s body. The little receipt had already burned out. ‘Is
something supposed to happen?’ the woman asked.
That was embarrassing. I delved into my pocket again, hoping to find another useful
scrap of paper.
A moment later, the vampire burst into flames. About bloody time.
The woman dived behind me, using my body to shield hers, then she seemed to realise
what she was doing and I heard a muffled apology – although she stayed where she was. I
waited, watching the vamp be incinerated into ash. It would have been far more impressive if
he’d actually combusted when she’d finished counting. Oh well; I suppose the end result was
the same.
‘You shouldn’t be wandering the streets at night on your own if you don’t have proper
protection,’ I said, once it was clear that the vampire definitely wouldn’t rise again.
‘I had an argument with my boyfriend,’ the woman said shakily. ‘And I couldn’t get a
taxi. There aren’t supposed to be many vampires around at the moment. I thought it would be
safe.’
I bit back my admonition that it obviously wasn’t safe. ‘At the very least arm yourself
with some vamp spray for next time.’
Her eyes widened. ‘I did! It didn’t work!’ She held up her bag, which she was still
clinging on to and pulled out a little bottle.
I frowned, took it from her and sprayed it into the air in front of me. It was supposed to
be a combination of holy water and wild garlic but, as far as I could tell, this particular
version was nothing more than water laced with a synthetic garlic scent. ‘You were conned,’
I said.
Her shoulders dropped. ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. ‘I realise that.’ She looked beyond me.
‘Is my shoe—?’
‘Burnt to a crisp. You’ll be hobbling home. Where do you live?’
‘Chambers Street,’ she whispered.
It wasn’t far. ‘I’ll walk you there.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you.’ She stared at me. ‘How did you know what to
do? How did you know how to beat him?’
‘Practice,’ I said, although I knew what she was really asking. I am a skinny, five-foot-
five, unarmed woman and I don’t look as if I could beat up a small child, let alone a vampire.
I sighed and relented, tucking my hair behind my ears so she could see the truth.
‘You’re an elf,’ she breathed. She looked me up and down again. ‘But—’
‘I’m a low elf,’ I told her. ‘I’m not high born.’
She nodded as if she understood. Perhaps she did; some humans recognised the
difference. High elves have power, wealth, copious amounts of elemental magic and good
looks; low elves have zero power, no wealth, a mere smattering of barely controlled magic –
and they usually have acne, too. It sucks. But I’d long since learned that complaining about
things I couldn’t change was a highway to nowhere.
‘Can I do something?’ the woman asked. ‘Or give you something? As a heartfelt thank
you for saving my life?’
I was tempted to ask her for some spare cash, but that seemed cruel considering what
she’d just been through. ‘No.’ I smiled. ‘It was my pleasure to help.’
‘If you don’t want money, I can owe you a favour instead,’ she said. ‘Whatever you
need in the future, you can come to me and—’
‘No!’ My refusal was louder and more forceful than I’d intended. She winced and I
softened my tone. ‘Never do that. Never grant anyone an unnamed future favour, especially
someone with magic. You could end up giving away everything that’s ever mattered to you.’
She blanched. ‘Oh. Okay. Sorry.’
I wondered how on earth this woman had managed to get through life unscathed thus
far. ‘Come on,’ I said, before she promised me her first born. ‘Let’s get you home.’ ...
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
