Bloodfire (Blood Destiny 1) - Helen Harper Page 0,8
distant hooting of a night owl out searching for prey and the skitter of a small animal somewhere nearby. I ignored them all and concentrated on the signs I could see at my feet. There was something else there. Reaching into my pack again, I found my torch, and clicked it on to look closer.
He had been this way. John was light on his feet and left little trace of his presence but I knew him well and knew this area. He’d disturbed the bush to my right, brushing past it as he ran. And judging by the distance between his steps, he’d been running fast, as if something had been after him. I frowned and arced the torch over the area, first close by then further along the path. There was something up ahead. Stepping forward, I tried separately to sense what it might be, but I was no shifter and came up short. Fuck. Where had he gone?
I pushed on the hydrogen peroxide nozzle again and began to spray liberally on the ground in front of me, hoping it wouldn’t work. All I could smell was the damp, musk night air, with the deep smell of the earth rising up. I peered down squinting and holding my breath. The peroxide foamed in a few spots. More blood. It didn’t mean it was John’s though, it could belong to any kind of wild animal. It might even be days old. Despite these thoughts, the ever–present fire inside of me began to heat up even more and I could feel the flames licking up the sides of my stomach.
Mackenzie?
I almost jumped for joy before realising that something was different.
Was that…? Julia?
Yes. It’s me. Defeat laced her words.
I felt my legs buckle under me. Only alphas could use the Voice to communicate and if Julia had found hers that meant that John’s was gone. That John was gone. I gulped in air and felt the pain blossom through me. From the other side of the forest, a keening howl and followed by caterwauling began. They were swiftly joined by others as the pack hunters came together in sudden horrifying grief. I couldn’t breathe and fell forward onto my hands, barely registering the damp moss beneath my palms. One huge sucking sob sprang from my mouth. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t.
No.
I forced myself up. The bloodfire wouldn’t allow this. He might still be okay.
I pushed forward with the torch in front of me like a ward, spraying as I went, moving faster and trying to ignore the hard knot of tears forming inside my chest. The foaming was getting heavier and the tracks were becoming clearer. It was definitely John’s trail; I was beginning to recognize the heavy gait that slightly favoured his left knee. But if he was bleeding and in danger, why hadn’t he shifted? Then he could have fought, he could have regenerated…
Until I saw it for my own eyes, I wasn’t going to believe he was dead.
A cobweb brushed my cheek but I didn’t even bother to lift my hand to shake it off. The trail was leading down towards the beach and away from the keep. Whatever had been chasing him, if anything had been chasing him, this creature that left no trail, he’d made sure that we were not going to be targeted by it too. He was a weretiger though. He was powerful enough to beat off almost any of the otherworld creatures that ever made it through to Cornwall. It didn’t make sense. I gritted my teeth and kept going, up over the final rise that led to the dunes.
And that was when I finally smelled the iron rich stain of blood myself. It had to be in a large enough quantity for my weak human nose to pick it up. I took another step and saw him. Or rather what was left of him.
His hat lay in a pool of blood that glistened darkly and wetly in the gloom. What I first thought were creepers reaching out from his belly I sickeningly realized were his intestines trailing away from him for what seemed an impossible distance. John’s usually bright eyes were open, glassy and staring. A milky caul had already begun to form over his pupils. His mouth was open wide, and for one horrible moment I thought that he was laughing at me. It wasn’t a laugh though. It was a scream.