Bloodfire (Blood Destiny 1) - Helen Harper Page 0,97

“You wanted me, you bitch! Now I’m here! Come on then!”

The door gently swung shut as if in answer. I paused for a second, hopeful, but nothing else happened. It must have just been the vibrations from my kick. Well this was just great. Here I was, striding into Iabartu’s home turf, ready to take her on and be the conquering hero and I’d end up having to go back to the portal with my tail between my legs. Except then I realised that the portal was sealed shut again so I couldn’t even do that. I imagined Corrigan, shaking his head at me like I was some sort of naughty petulant child. Shaking the image away, I tried to focus my thoughts. Maybe if I destroyed the door instead, then she would come along to investigate.

Picking up one of the silver arrows, I took out my bow and strung it, aiming directly at the centre of the door. I held my breath but the arrow just thudded uselessly into it, then bounced back onto the grass. I kicked the door again, pissed off. Then I scooped up the dirk and stabbed viciously at the black shape with all my strength. It didn’t even make a mark, in fact it was the door seemed completely impervious to the weapon. That did not bode well. I tried again. Nope. My fingertips bristled with angry heat and I dropped and punched the door, scraping my knuckles against the smooth impenetrable surface. The resulting pain reminded me that they were already tender from my battle to escape the faerie ring – and gave me an idea. If my blood was strong enough to break through a Fae’s conjured barrier, then surely it could manage this. And even if it didn’t work, I knew at least that Iabartu wanted me, or rather my blood, for whatever nefarious reasons she had cooked up. It could be that she’d sense it once it was spilled on her land.

I knelt down again and grabbed another tuft of glass sharp grass, wincing again as the blades cut through my skin. Instead of wiping the blood away this time, however, I smeared it onto the door frame and shook a couple of drops onto the ground for further effect. Then I stood back, and watched and waited.

I wasn’t quite sure what I’d been expecting, but I’d been hoping for something rather dramatic. Wyr blood should surely bubble and hiss against nasty otherworld materials. Instead, however, there was the faint smell of burning, that reminded me of the times when Johannes accidentally set his own hair alight when trying to light the ancient gas stove with a match. Nothing else happened. After a few tense moments, I reached out for the doorknob again and twisted. This time, the whole thing disintegrated in my bloody hands until I was left staring at nothing but the empty valley again. The blue trail still vanished in mid air, at the spot where the door had been.

Well, great, I thought sarcastically. Now there wasn’t even a door to try to enter; it was just a blank space of air. Some fucking saviour I’d turned out to be. Mack Attack wasn’t going to be very successful if there was nothing around to actually attack in the first place.

I was so angry with myself that I didn’t notice it at first, but once it got stronger and began tugging at my ponytail I began to realize that something was happening. Where there had only been still air that lay as flat as that of inside a sealed Egyptian mummy’s tomb, now there was wind. And wind that was getting stronger and stronger. It started to whistle around my ears and ripple the cloth of my t-shirt. The black material that I’d been carefully carrying on my shoulder whipped off and danced away, carried on an invisible current. I felt my backpack being lifted up from behind, pulling at my shoulders as if it was being grabbed by an unseen force, a ghostly mugger who wanted all of my worldly possessions. I tried desperately to keep my balance and steady myself, but there was nothing to grab onto and I felt myself falling backwards, landing on the sharp grass and feeling its points pierce into my skin through my clothes.

At that point a shadow passed over my face. I shielded my eyes from the bright sun and looked up, trying to make it what it was. It