“Mack Attack…”

Tom raised his eyebrows slightly at my newly acquired nickname. Wait until he heard the kitten one.

“I should go and visit Julia first, and make sure she’s alright.” I neglected to mention that I already had. Perhaps I didn’t need to know what was in the file after all.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Alex replied calmly. “She’s sedated and being looked after by the doc. She won’t even know you’re there.”

“I’ll know that,” I growled.

“Quit trying to put it off,” he said, firmly. “I can vouch that Julia’s not going anywhere, not yet at least. Look at the file first, then go.”

I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this. “Fine.” My backpack was in the corner of the kitchen beside the door, where I’d dumped it when I came in. I carefully kept my back to Tom, blocking his view. I still didn’t want him to see the flash of silver because there was no way I was going to give him the chance of trying to be a hero and volunteering to come with me through the portal. All this file and human/not human stuff was just a speed bump. Once Tom was safely out of the way, I still planned to get Alex to do his stuff and put a tracer on the cloth.

I pulled out the clump of papers and sat back down at the table, nervously smoothing them over.

“We can give you some space,” Alex said kindly.

“No,” I replied quickly. “I’d like you to stay here. Both of you.” I didn’t want to do this alone.

Each of them nodded. I felt a shiver in my stomach and turned over the first sheet.

It was a photo of me, aged seven, clipped to a letter. I scanned down it to the bottom to see the signatory and the world suddenly stopped. It was from my mother.

I lifted my eyes to Tom and Alex and swallowed out the words. “It’s from my mum.”

“Your…. But, how, can that be?” Tom burst out.

I shook my head in confusion. Alex told me to read it out.

Dear John,

I know it has been a long time since I’ve contacted you, and, believe me, I wouldn’t be doing it now if I thought I had another choice.

I’m in trouble. They’re getting closer and Mackenzie is in danger. If they catch her, you know what they will do. I need to know that she’ll be safe. It’s a lot to ask, especially because of pack rules, but I need you to look after her for me. I know that she’ll be safe with you. I’ll be in Cornwall in a few days’ time and be able to leave her at the keep. She doesn’t understand what is happening, and it’s probably better that she never does. If she stays with you, then she never needs to know the truth. She’s strong, and she can look after herself, but sometimes when she gets angry I feel afraid. I can see the power inside her. Maybe you can turn her when she’s older and then it won’t matter. I have no idea if it will work. But they can’t find her, John, no matter what.

Please believe me that if there was another way then that’s what I’d do. You’re my last hope, and my daughter’s.

Martha

My mother had already known John before she left me here? And what did she mean that she was afraid of me? “What am I?” I whispered, aghast.

Tom was tense and motionless, but Alex reached out and gently touched me on the arm.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

I flipped to the next page, heart in my mouth, terrified at what I might read next. It was a medical form with my name at the top. I had a faint memory from not long after I arrived, of John taking me into his study and pulling out a needle. I’d been so frightened and had tried to back away, but he’d soothed me and said it wouldn’t hurt for long. That it was just in case there was an accident and they needed to do a blood transfusion. I hadn’t even understood what that was at the time but something about the look in his eyes made me trust him so I’d offered him my arm and let him draw my blood. I wondered why I’d not remember that until now. John had certainly never mentioned it again after that day.

I stared down at the smudged piece of paper.

“Red?” prompted Tom, softly.

I passed it over him and he read over it, drawing in a sharp breath and then turning it over to Alex.

“Oh my God,” Alex breathed. “Now it all makes sense. This is why you are so strong, and feel fire in your blood. This is why you can hear Voices. And this must be why Iabartu…” His voice trailed off and he looked at me sadly.

“Uh, who’s Iabartu?” Tom asked, brow furrowed.

Tears filled my eyes. It was my fault after all. Craw had been right. John had died protecting me, hiding me. Julia was lying upstairs fighting for her life because of me. Four Brethren shifters were dead because of me. I fought the tears back and felt rage and fire fill me. Without thinking, I stood up, violently kicking back my chair and flung my mug against the tiled kitchen wall, spattering it with dark coffee stains and shattering the porcelain. An inhuman cry fell from my lips and I picked up the chair and began hitting it against the wall.

“No! It can’t be me, it can’t be my fault,” I gasped, slamming the wooden frame against the wall, again and again and again, until a small wooden leg was all that was left in my hands. I threw it to the side and doubled over in pain, hugging myself. It was my blood that the bitch wanted. I howled in grief, anguish and anger.

I was part dragon.

Chapter Twenty Four

Once my sobs subsided, and I was hiccupping in a ball on the floor, Alex came over and picked me up, hugging my body to his.

“It’s not your fault,” he said gently. “You didn’t know and you couldn’t help it.” He pulled out another chair from the table and sat me down. I gazed dully down at the grains of wood, and traced a whorl with my finger.

“I don’t understand.” Tom came round the other side of the chair. “What does this mean?” He waved the piece of paper at me. “What’s not your fault? And, I say again, who the hell is Iabartu?”

I took a deep breath and answered. “She’s a demi-god. She’s the blue bitch who Alex scryed and who killed John. She’s the…thing that sent through the terrametus and the ispolin. She’s looking for me because she wants my blood.”

“But why your blood?” He looked frustrated and his fist tightened on the paper. ‘What does this mean?”

Alex took it from him and glanced at him with a serious, warning look. “Mackenzie is one eighth Draco Wyr. She has dragon blood in her veins. It’s what makes her stronger and what fuels the bloodfire. It’s also why she can do things that most humans can’t. It’s diluted enough by her human side that no-one can detect it unless they go looking specifically for it.” He waved the paper in the air. “Which your alpha obviously did.” Alex looked back at me. “You’re still human, Mack Attack. It’s only a fraction of you, and it’s not your fault. It’s not as if you could control it.”

“I should have known,” I said dully. “You worked out within just a couple of days that I couldn’t be fully human. I’ve lived with this for my whole life. Even though I realised that the bloodfire was strange, I didn’t try to work out why I had it. I just pretended that it was normal. And it got John killed.”

“But he knew, Mack.” Alex’s voice was soft and insistent. “He knew and he didn’t tell you.”

My eyes blazed and I growled. “Are you trying to suggest that it’s his fault that he was killed?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. “No. What I’m saying is that he was trying to protect you. He was your alpha and your guardian, and keeping you safe was his job. If he’d thought it was something you’d needed to know, he would have brought it up. But he didn’t. Remember what you told me about him trying to break the geas when you originally arrived? If he’d had this letter and he knew your mother then he must have made that part up to keep your identity secret even from yourself. Everything you’ve told me suggests that he loved you like a daughter; that it didn’t matter to him that you have the fire of the Draco Wyr in your veins, but it did matter that you were safe. He knew what he was doing.”

I sank back down in my chair. “If he knew what he was doing, then why is he dead?”

Nobody answered. After a moment, Tom cleared his throat. “So, this Iabartu half god woman. Why does she want your blood?”

Alex answered for me. “Draco Wyr haven’t been seen for centuries.” I looked at him, startled. He shrugged at me. “You’re not the only one who can do research, Mack Attack. Anyway, as I was saying there’s not been sight or sound of them for longer than even the Fae could remember. Not just on this plane but on any plane. Most people think they didn’t ever really exist in the first place. The stories say, though, that their blood is strong enough to bring down an army. Or to cure the most terrible afflictions imaginable. It depends on how it’s used. Even though Mack is only an eighth Wyr, there is still power there.”

“And Iabartu must need it to kill and destroy or because she wants to open up a pharmacy.” My fire was still flickering but I knew with cold certainty what I needed to do. “Tom, I need you to hide these papers. It’s still enough to hurt the pack if the Brethren find them.”

“But it means you’re not human!” He exclaimed with sudden realization. “They won’t do anything because now we’re not breaking the Way.”

He could be really naïve sometimes. “And until now we all thought I was completely human so whether we did break the Way or not, we had the intention of doing so.”

Alex frowned. “And the dragon blood is only a fraction of you. In essence, Mack Attack, you are still human.”

Whatever. The point was moot as far as the Brethren were concerned. But I looked steadily at Tom and gestured expansively. “You see? Corrigan still can’t find this out. Please, Tom. Find somewhere to hide this stuff.” I gently touched the letter quietly saying, “This is the first time I’ve ever seen my mother’s handwriting. It’s proof that she might still be alive, still exist somewhere. I don’t want to lose it.”