“You murdered my alpha,” I spat.

A glimmer of a smile flickered over her bow-shaped lips. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” She laughed musically, and the sound grated through every inch of my soul, fanning my flames further. “Just think how much anguish he could have spared you if he’d only given you up at the beginning. Because, like I told him, the end result is still the same. I will drain you dry of every drop of fiery blood until all that is left is an empty husk.” She laughed again, but this time the sound was colder.

“Why?” I bit out. “What makes my blood so special to you?”

“Oh little human Wyr, I could use it in ways that you can only dream of. You see, like you, I’m just a half-breed. Half a goddess.” Her eyes gleamed. “A fantastically powerful one, but still there are those who seek to bring me down because I am not as pure as they would wish. Your blood will help me destroy them into dust. Just a few carefully placed drops mixed into their mead and they’ll be mine to control.” She laughed coldly, but I noticed that her fists were clenched.

“If you’d just asked,” I commented, “I’d give you a few drops.”

The expression on her face was scornful. “And let you loose for someone else to use? I don’t think so. Besides,” she flipped her hair self-consciously, “I need a constant supply. Your blood has certain…addictive qualities that makes it so useful. There’s no point in establishing the need, the desire for it, in one of my foes, and then not being able to control that supply.” Licking her lips in a way that made me shudder, she added, “I need it all.”

I felt a cold shiver run through me at her words, despite the churning bloodfire that was champing to be let loose. Part of me had hoped that I’d been wrong, that it hadn’t been me that she’d been after – and that it hadn’t been me who John had died protecting. I didn’t really care what she did to her enemies on this plane but I was damned if I was going to let her use part of me to help her continue her terror campaign. And I would have my revenge for John, Julia and all the others.

“Over my dead body,” I growled.

She raised a shoulder, shrugging lightly. “Suits me. There are plenty of ways to kill your mind but keep your physical body alive.” And with that she lunged forward, trying to grab hold of me.

I dodged, only just managing to escape her grasping hands, and turned on my heel, facing her again. I watched her stance carefully, taking note of the shifts in her muscles, trying to gauge where she would move next. I wasn’t going to try to strike her with the dirk until I could be sure of making contact.

She looked amused. “Oh, little dragon, this is going to be more fun than I thought.” She shot up into the sky and disappeared.

I whirled, squinting up above me, trying desperately to work out where she had gone. A faint whistling came sneaking into my left ear and my grip on the dirk tightened. Suddenly, I felt a huge force cuff me on the side of my head. I went flying into the sharp grass feeling its blades rip into the skin on my face and arm.

She stood over me again, laughter pealing out. “Don’t bleed too much, remember I need all that.”

From the ground I kicked out at her leg, connecting with her flesh. She howled in surprise and somersaulted backwards. I sprang up and leapt forward, lashing out with the blade. I felt the satisfying moment when the dirk scratched into her clothing.

“So,” she hissed, “the little human can use silver. I’m not one of your shifters, however. I am a god. It won’t hurt me.”

“Oh, but you’re just a demi-god, Iabartu, otherwise you wouldn’t need me. And when I stick this into your heart, it will hurt you. A lot.”

I was more confident now. She wasn’t entirely invulnerable and now I knew that I could reach her. This was not going to be impossible. I ran at her, dirk in front of me, ready to slice her and make her bleed. This time, however, she skirted right into the air before clawing her taloned fingernails at me. They connected with my cheek and drew blood. Iabartu paused, hovering in midair, and examined the little red drops on the tips of her fingers, a fascinated expression on her face.

“I can feel the fire from here,” she murmured.

“Then feel this,” I spat and attacked again, stabbing at her as the flames inside me roared in approval. The silver sank into her arm before she could pull away, and a dark liquid welled up around it. I managed to keep a firm grip on the hilt and held onto my now only workable weapon whilst Iabartu pulled back sharply. My slice didn’t quite have the devastating effect that I’d been hoping for but at least I got a reaction as her face twisted briefly in pain.

“Enough!” She snapped her fingers and, almost immediately, I heard a quiet rumble in the distance, getting gradually louder as whatever it belonged to drew nearer.

“Afraid you can’t beat me on your own, bitch? I might have figured that you’d call someone else in to do your dirty work. Clearly, a half breed like you doesn’t have much power of your own.” I hoped that I could taunt her into making a mistake but Iabartu had too much ice running through her veins for that just yet.

“You’re a half-breed too, human. I notice you don’t have anyone rushing to your aid.” She swung backwards and out of my reach.

“Because I don’t need help to kill you,” I retorted loudly. Just as I’d tried to encourage her temper to get the better of her, now she was obviously trying it with me. Of course, my temper was often my best weapon – Iabartu didn’t need to know that though.

The sound of whatever she’d summoned was getting almost unbearably loud. With half an eye on Iabartu, who was now floating at the edge of the valley, I turned slightly to meet whatever was coming. Whatever it was, it was huge. And it looked disturbingly familiar.

Iabartu let out a silvery giggle that made shivers run down my spine. “You have already met, I believe? I think that my little friend is anxious for a re-match. After all, you attacked him entirely without provocation the last time.”

The ispolin’s shape drew closer. “He invaded our territory,” I growled.

“For all you know he was popping round to borrow a cup of sugar before you so mercilessly and viciously pounced on him.”

I felt an irritating twinge of guilt. She did actually have a point – not about the sugar of course, but about fighting first and asking questions later. But he’d killed that Brethren guy and maimed Lucy. And if he’d reached Trevathorn, god only knows what might have happened. It was the pack’s job to keep Cornwall safe from the big bad. The ispolin was certainly both of those.

Iabartu laughed at me again. “That, my dear, is why you’ll never be as powerful as me. Why that blood is wasted on you. You’d actually feel bad for giving him a booboo.”

I scowled, annoyed that I was so transparent, and struggling to keep my fire in check for at least the time being. “On the contrary, it’s what makes me better than you. But if that thing gets in my way, then I’ll mow him down. It’s you I’m here for.”

I’d barely finished my sentence when the ispolin howled in rage and began to charge. Iabartu leapt up into the sky. “Lucky me, I get a ringside seat,” she called down. “Don’t kill her just yet though, I need her heart pumping when I drain her blood.”

I ignored her pointed order to the beast and tensed. It was clearly still bearing the scars and wounds from our encounter on the beach and was looking for a little payback. I understood that, but there was no way I was going to let it prevent me from doing all I could to get my own payback from Iabartu. An image of Lucy’s limping form flashed into my head, along with Thomson’s broken body. I might not have liked the guy but he was a shifter which made him part of me and mine. This wouldn’t be so hard on my conscience after all. I released some of the heat I’d been keeping such a tight hold onto and looked straight into its one great eye. Bring it on.

The ispolin came close enough to me that I could see its hairy nostrils flaring. A trickle of dark green snot made its way down its face, making me wonder if the slime that Nick had found had Perkins had just been the remnants of a giant monster sneeze. The heaving nostrils did remind me of a Spanish bull, however, which gave an idea. I watched it carefully, waiting for it to make the first move. Its muscles rippled and its whole body shifted almost imperceptibly to the left. I sprang right, just in time to miss its barreling shape, and turned to face it again. Without pausing, it rammed its way towards me again, head down and lethal horns leading. For the second time, I managed to jump out of the way. I could sense Iabartu watching impatiently from the air and I took a moment to sketch a bow in the air, almost imagining myself as a bullfighter on a sandy ring. The ispolin pawed the ground and blinked furiously then rushed me again. I skipped out of the way but this time it was expecting it and threw out a fist to cuff me. It connected – barely – but the force was enough to send me spinning to the ground. I jumped up quickly, not before I felt a thousand blades of glass sharp grass cut into my skin all over again, whilst trying to ignore the sudden sensation of vertigo that the ispolin’s blow had created in my skull.

My gaze fell on the black cloth that was lying on the ground behind it. Well, in the absence of red, I supposed that black would be just as good. This time, when it lunged at me again, I ran at it too, then dove headfirst between its legs, noting that its feet hygiene hadn’t improved since the last time, and whipped up the piece of material. As I rolled beneath its groin, I also noticed that dangling from its waist was an oddly mechanical looking object. Huh. So that was where the electric screwdriver had ended up. Part of my brain tried to work through what on earth a one-eyed otherworldly monster would want with home DIY but before I could come up with a reasonable answer I was back on my feet facing the ispolin and holding the black cloth in front of me.

I dangled it to my side, daring the monster to come at me again. I hadn’t counted on the blue trail that still snaked its way from it – this time up to the sky to where Iabaru hovered. As I’d picked the cloth up, the smoke had moved with it. The ispolin’s huge eye was caught by it, almost entirely mesmerised. I hadn’t expected it, but it’d work. I threw myself at the monster in a blur, aiming my dirk for one of the gashes on its side from earlier. The silver blade entered the its tough flesh with surprising ease and began to smoke. The sickening smell of burnt flesh rose in the air. It fell to the ground, clutching the wound as I sprang back and watched warily. The same cutting grass that had bothered me earlier, now bothered the ispolin more, and it howled again, deafeningly. This time it was in pain and not rage however. It rolled over and only succeeded in cutting its hide even more. This would be a handy time to have some blackberry bushes around for it to roll into, assuming that Alex’s theory had been accurate.