Blood Politics - Helen Harper Page 0,62

weak that one.”

I wondered what she’d say if she knew that until very recently he’d been a merciless master vampire. My eyes turned hard. “Answer the question.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “That one was just for me.” She licked her lips in a manner that turned my stomach. “I like young men.”

He wasn’t really all that young, I thought sardonically. I changed the subject. “So what does he want?” There was no doubt as to which ‘he’ I was referring to.

“What do all men want? Power. Control.” She shrugged. “The usual.”

“Most men don’t go around slaughtering innocent tree nymphs,” I commented, trying to keep my swirling bloodfire under control. I needed to keep it from consuming me so that I could get as much information out of the Batibat as possible. It was fucking hard not to give in to the temptation to blast her into a pile of smouldering cinders, however.

“Most men are not like him.” She looked me up and down. “You have power of your own. I can sense it. It won’t be enough though. He uses the old ways and dark, dark magic. He cannot be defeated.”

I seemed to remember being told something vaguely similar about wraiths and look how that had turned out. Still, know thy enemy. “What does he look like?”

“Not as handsome as that one.” The Batibat jerked her head behind me. Assuming she was talking about either Larkin or Max and not wanting to take my eyes away from her, I didn’t bother turning around. “I might even keep that one alive for a while as a little toy. It can be rather dull waiting around here.”

I ignored her pointless threats. “What exactly are you waiting for? What’s he planning to do?”

Her lips turned down at the edges, fat heavy creases appearing in the folds of her cheeks. “How do I know? He wants the power of the land and will do what he can to get it. Many of these trees have been around for hundreds of years. He knows ways to take their life-force and use it. For what I have no idea. But you should be afraid.”

I ignored the implied threat. “So he’s behind the planned demolition? He’s going to cut down the trees to drain them of their natural power? Why bother pretending to build something in their place?”

“I would imagine he needs some kind of cover story for the humans. They can be annoying when they get involved.”

I thought about what Atlanteia had told me. “Has he done something to stop protestors from coming here? The humans who would stop the trees from being cut down?”

“Wards do many things,” the Batibat grunted cryptically.

I chewed my lip. “So break the ward here and break whatever magic he is using and that will stop preventing people from coming?”

She made her unpleasant version of a laugh again. “You can’t break the ward. He’s too powerful. You need to understand,” she said, leaning forward, “you cannot beat him. He knows too much and can do too much. And if you free her body, then he will come here and destroy you all.”

Bring it fucking on. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t going to know what had hit him. And when I broke his ward, he was going to get a tiny taste of exactly what I was capable of. I turned back to the dryad.

“If you’re going to continue with this foolhardiness, then let me have a little taste of your friend first,” the Batibat called. “The one who seems fixated on you. He looks angry. I’ll probably be doing you a favour.” Her voice deepened. “I like the strong ones. It’s more fun when they struggle.”

This time curiosity got the better of me and I flicked a glance over my shoulder. Oh. Corrigan was standing there, in a dark grey suit that looked completely out of place in the middle of a wood. His arms were crossed against his broad chest and he looked mightily pissed off. Even from this distance I could see the emerald green of his eyes flashing sparks at me.

Hey Corrigan. My Voice bounced against something that felt a bit like cotton wool. Corrigan’s expression didn’t change. Interesting. That meant that the barrier was blocking the usual shifter telepathy, which indicated why he’d not bothered announcing his arrival. It also meant that it was a fucking strong ward. I gave him a little grin and a wave instead. His frown deepened.

“Is he your husband?” inquired