Bloodrage - Helen Harper Page 0,8

fell across to Mary, who was still standing where I’d left her, a lone silent figure surrounded by the carnage and debris of over-turned tables and smashed china. Her eyes were filled with horror, and what gallingly appeared to be pity. A tiny tendril of sanity made its way through my brain. Fuck. I released the mage and he fell forward onto the floor, clutching at his neck and gasping for breath. Then I sat down on the floor next to the prone and groaning bodies and covered my face with my hands.

Chapter Three

I assumed that the door to my little bedroom where I’d been frog-marched back to by a posse of grim faced mages was locked. Regardless, I didn’t bother trying it. How could I have lost control so utterly and completely? I moved my hand up to my hair to run my fingers through it in an almost unconscious movement, then remembered I had no hair left and my hand fell back down to my side. The narrow bed I was sitting on felt just as uncomfortable as it had the night before. I tripped through everything in my mind again. I had indeed been an idiot to fall for Thomas’ trick. All the signs had been there that he’d been fooling me; I just hadn’t paid enough attention. To attack him though…that was beyond the pale. They say that revenge is a dish best served cold. I supposed that only worked when you weren’t blazing hot inside.

I curled my fingers into a fist and punched the mattress. All I’d had to do was to keep my mouth shut and my head down. Now the mages were probably going to fling me out or put me in prison or something and I’d never manage to get Mrs. Alcoon freed. I couldn’t see any way out, and I couldn’t envision any way in which I could talk myself out of this. Perhaps if I told them what I really was they’d be more understanding. But I doubted it. They’d probably then be even more keen to make sure that I never saw the light of day ever again. There wasn’t anyone I could call on for help this time; I was truly on my own and it was completely my own fault.

I pushed off the bed and began to pace up and down like a caged cat. The room was so small that I could barely take four paces; every time I reached a wall I lashed out and slammed my fist into it before turning on my heel and doing the same thing again. Before too long my knuckles were bleeding. For a moment I wondered if Solus, the Fae who had tracked me through my blood back in Inverness, could sense what was happening through the mages’ wards. It didn’t really matter if he could, however. He’d refused to come within half a mile of the Ministry building so it was unlikely he’d try to get anywhere near here either. I’d lost count of the amount of times that I went backwards and forwards by the time there was finally a knock on the door. I immediately stilled and pulled my shoulders back. It was time to face the music. Taking a deep breath, I went to the door and opened it. It was the Arch-Mage.

He stared at me silently for several moments. I tried to return his gaze, but ended up dropping my eyes to the floor. He’d given me a chance and I’d blown it.

After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally spoke. “So, it seems that you’ve gotten yourself into quite a lot of bother. I have to admit, I’d rather hoped that you’d manage to hold out longer than a day.” He stepped inside the tiny room. “So what do you have to say for yourself? The Dean is really rather keen that you never darken his door ever again.”

My cheeks warmed involuntarily. “I’m sorry. I just have a bad temper. I flipped out and I know I shouldn’t have. I’ll accept whatever punishment you choose, but you can’t take this out on Mrs. Alcoon. It’s not her fault. I’ll do anything and go anywhere, just please let her go.”

“We’ve been through this. The deal was that you went through training so that we know you can control your impulses and your magic, and then we’d take the spell off. There doesn’t seem to be very much control in the slightest on