Bloodstone (7 page)

Obviously not, because her voice rose above the shrieks of her gang. ‘Christ, her mum must have shagged a beetle. Her dad took one look at her in the delivery ward and dropped
dead.’

Holy shit. That one took even my breath away. The girls were hooting with horrified delight, and one of them shrieked, ‘Sha
NIA
!’

Still, at least Finn had got her head up, and her expression wasn’t scared or humiliated any more. That was naked hatred shining out of her silver eyes.

No, Dorsal Finn
, I thought.
No you don’t.

Somebody stopped to buy a magazine, obscuring my view for a moment. I dodged round him, trying to keep track of Finn, alarm making my heart trip faster. Now if I was Shania, if someone was
looking at me like that, the last thing I’d be doing right now was crossing the road.

Finn was expressionless as Shania reached the traffic island. That’s when my attention was caught by Jed once more. He was watching Finn, very intent, clearly fascinated. He should be
watching Shania, he should be riveted by her beauty and her cruelty and her sheer obviousness. Unease tickled my spine. That bloody boy and his chaotic mind. Unintended consequences, they called
it: and all my fault.

Finn didn’t look remotely scared now. She glanced to her left and then back at Shania, and her face was twitching. For a moment I thought she was going to cry, till I realised she was
trying not to laugh. I thought,
Uh-oh
, and I shoved forward. Jed was between me and the little scene, and he was pushing forward himself as if he feared what was going to happen, as if he
was about to get involved. I couldn’t see. I cursed under my breath, dumped my coffee in a bin so my hands were free...

Too late. Shania stepped off the island, and Jed’s free hand clutched empty air. She glanced down, wobbled, and tripped. There wasn’t anything there, nothing. But she tripped on it
anyway.

I swear to the gods, I nearly laughed too. It was funny, watching the gorgeous creature trip on nothing and stagger, arms flailing, mouth gaping, as Jed stumbled back to keep his balance with
the infant.

Then it stopped being funny. Shania pitched headfirst into the road, shedding her make-up along with a layer of skin as her face skidded on the tarmac. Her hands scrabbled bloodily, almost as if
she was trying not to break a nail. It looked undignified and downright painful, but it wouldn’t have been life-threatening. Not if the Land Cruiser hadn’t been roaring up to the
traffic calmers, not if its driver hadn’t looked up too late, phone frozen at her ear, mouth opening in a great comical O.

Already running, I heard the squeal of a bystander, saw the Land Cruiser driver shut her eyes. If Shania was making a sound, it was drowned out by the squeal of brakes and tarmac, but I
don’t think she was. She just lay there, eyes huge, watching her death coming straight towards her in a colossal four-by-four. I skidded to a halt.

And so did Death.

I took a breath in the eerie silence. The huge tyre was kissing Shania’s scalp, but she didn’t move her head. She just opened her mouth, and started to scream.

There were people crowding round the scene, goggling at the girl on the tarmac and yammering into mobile phones, and some of them – Jed included – were trying to haul her to her
feet. Finn hadn’t moved, clearly didn’t feel the need. She loitered, the quicksilver glint lingering in her eyes, only one emotion on her face: a tiny twitch of disappointment. Licking
her lips, she cocked her head and listened hungrily to the screaming.

Gods, she was her mother’s daughter.

It was time for me to slink away. I’d been sloppy, and it was a near-miss, but no harm done, not this time. There was no reason to stay; there was plenty of reason to go for a stiff drink.
There was no threat to her, not now. Finn might as well have been invisible. No-one was interested, no-one watched her.

Except for Jed.

I frowned. I wasn’t mistaken: he’d drawn back from the mob, his skin pale, and his eyes darted from Finn to the Land Cruiser driver, who was sobbing on her knees in the road beside
Shania. Her car door hung wide open; the strap of her bag lay visible on the passenger seat.

~
Whoa, no. That’s enough for one day, boy.

I’m not sure he reacted to me; maybe he made the decision all on his own. I hope so, because I regretted what I did next; I regretted it for a good proportion of the rest of my life.

I walked away. It was just that Finn had, too: bored now, she was slouching towards the park.

It was all over. I didn’t imagine Jed would be interested any more. If I thought at all, I thought he’d stay around beautiful, frightened Shania. I didn’t take account of
bolshieness, and curiosity, and a feral uncontrolled mind that had been meddled with once too often.

So I never saw him follow Finn; never saw him argue and joke and flatter, and at last cajole an explanation out of her. I never saw the light of devotion dawn in her eyes for a boy who wanted to
talk to her. I missed the moment Jed became the best and only friend Finn had ever made.

Stella, who once was Reultan, did her best to be civil. It was important to her self-image. I knew her motives were mixed, and were bound up in our complicated games of
provocation and reaction, but at least home life was frostily calm. Her civility, though, was brittle as glass. Most of the time, she’d have liked to slap me, and I loved to see how close I
could get.

Like I said, I was bored. And that particular September afternoon, I knew Finn was at the door, eavesdropping. Furtive little minx. How could I resist?

I poured a whisky for myself, handed one to Stella. ‘Your mother’s losing her grip.’

‘Is that so, Seth?’ Chilly, like snow. ‘What do you plan to do about it?’

‘Me? She’s your mother. She’s on the way out. Don’t you care?’ I sighed. ‘Course, caring’s not really your thing, is it?’

She ignored that. ‘What do you suggest? Locking her up in Calderwood House?’

‘Ha! Death’s waiting room? Aye, she’d love that.’

‘But don’t think it hasn’t occurred to me. I know what the alternative is.’

‘Oh, I see. Place of safety and all that? Sometimes your funny new instincts seem quite rational.’

‘I’m well aware you’re thinking of yourself, not her.’ Her voice was a breath of winter. ‘But for once in your life you’re right.’

Which was when the door slammed open. Finn stood there, beetroot with rage, no longer able to contain herself.

‘Oh dear, Stella.’ I smiled. ‘We had company.’

Stella glanced at me, then at Finn for a long cool moment.

‘Finn,’ she said, turning her glass in her fingers. Stella didn’t need ice in her whisky. You could practically see the frost flaking off her fingertips.

‘Mum.’ Finn fisted her hands at her sides. ‘Are you putting Granny in a home?’

‘Best place for her.’ Oh, I loved baiting that girl. ‘Plastic cups. Plastic seats.’

‘How dare you!’

‘You’re going to listen at doors, you’re going to hear stuff you don’t like.’ I shrugged and swallowed the last of my whisky.

‘She’s not senile! She’s not even old!’

Gods, I thought. If you only knew.

Thing is, she was protesting too much. I knew fine that Finn watched Leonora, just as I did. I saw the child’s curtain twitch at night like a Morningside matron’s, saw her watch the
old woman stride down the gravel drive. Saw her return, an hour or two later, silk trousers soaked to the knees with mud from the reedy fringes of the Fairy Loch. Finn knew as well as I did where
her grandmother went, in the smallest darkest hours of the night.

What she didn’t know, of course, was how Leonora hankered for home, ached after it, fought the drag of it that was worse for her than for anyone. So Finn must have worried, despite all her
protests, that the old bat was losing her mind, that she was going to fall into the dark water and drown. Finn couldn’t know it wasn’t ultimately the Fairy Loch Leonora longed for, but
another water altogether.

Leonora could look decrepit enough when she wanted to, seeing as she cast such a fine glamour. And there was always an aura of age about her, like a patina on beautiful wood. Her face remained
uncreased, except for the laughter lines, the gazing-into-space lines, the marks left by peering at a thousand stones through a loupe. But old she did not look, unless it was the look of an
especially lovely velociraptor.

So I understood Finn’s frustration. It’s just that I didn’t feel like indulging it.

‘If you put Granny in Calderwood House,’ she said through her teeth, ‘she’ll throw herself out the window.’

‘No worries, Dorsal.’ I reached once more for the whisky. ‘We’ll put her on the ground floor.’

The rage and the hate struck me like a dart. Amateur, unschooled, but she had the raw ability, that was for sure. My head jerked with the lance of pain, and she smirked.

I gritted my teeth, partly to stifle the pain, partly to stop myself retaliating. It was a tantrum, that was all. Giving her tit for tat would be a bit of a giveaway. Besides, Conal would kill
me.

Instead I gave her an indulgent, beatific smile. ‘Clever girl.’

‘Did you get out the wrong side of your coffin?’ Her look was full of malice. ‘Away back while I get my stake.’

‘Finn, shut up.’ Stella glared at both of us. ‘And you, Seth. You’re supposed to be a
little
older than her.’

Genuinely tickled, I laughed. ‘Maybe Finn should be in on the discussion anyway, Stella. I mean, for such a little smart-arse, there’s so much she doesn’t know.’

Livid colour crept up Stella’s neck. ‘I said shut up!’

Abruptly her glass slipped through her fingers, crashing to the tabletop. Crystal popped, snapping the air, and whisky went everywhere.

Recoiling, Stella clutched her temple, staring at Finn in shock. She wasn’t the only one. Bloody hell, I was impressed.

But it was me Stella turned on. ‘Leave Finn out of this!’

‘She’s Leonora’s granddaughter,’ I murmured, not entirely shit-stirring now.

‘And she’s my daughter,’ hissed Stella, ‘and she will leave the room now.
Now
, Finn.’

Stella’s eyes were fifteen below zero. Finn marched out of the room, with what dignity she had left, and I decided it was time for a strategic retreat. I couldn’t resist turning back
for a last shot, though.

‘Chip off a very old block, that girl.’

Stella’s reply was so high-pitched it was incoherent.

‘And the latest newsflash: Finn thinks we’re trying to put your mother in a home.’

Stripping off his shirt Conal shrugged, avoiding my eyes. ‘Let her think it.’

‘That’s a bad idea. You know how fond she is of the old bat.’

He scowled at me and raised his sword.

‘Just saying.’ I lifted mine, gave him a mocking salute.

He lowered the blade again, turned and clicked on the iPod dock. Full volume, drowning me out. And he went for me.

We were both dripping sweat when we staggered apart. I grinned at him.

‘That got a bit personal,’ I panted. ‘It’s the truth that stings—’

‘Yes,’ he snapped.

I stretched my shoulders. Even I sometimes knew when to stop. I did wonder, though, if Finn’s childhood curiosity would abate with age, or if it would only sharpen till we all cut
ourselves on it. It was only a matter of time till Finn explored too far. There was rowanwood in the panelled walls of this vast cellar, but not an impenetrable quantity; neither of us liked to be
entirely blind to what was going on above us.

I grabbed a towel, rubbed my neck, gave Conal a conciliatory grin. ‘Enough for today?’

He hesitated, then smiled back. ‘Wore you out, did I?’

‘Funny.’ I tugged my t-shirt over my head, then eyed the timber ceiling. ‘Finn’s brought a friend home.’

‘Gods. Not another one.’ He rubbed his face with a hand. ‘So soon after the last girl?’

‘The last girl was three months ago.’ I couldn’t help the edge in my voice. ‘Don’t worry, this one’ll forget she exists and all.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know if I can stand the fallout.’

I smiled, and climbed the stairs in the silence of self-righteousness, Conal at my heels. The evening was lovely; sunlight dipped and shifted across the front of the house, dappled with the
drifting shadows of dead birch leaves. Give Leonora her due, she wove a fine glamour, and the Veil around Tornashee was dense. The double front door stood wide open and the leaf-shadows spilled
over into the hall, and that just made the whole place seem even more like a phantom outline in empty land.