Bitter Seed of Magic (9781101553695)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Acknowledgements
Ace Books by Suzanne McLeod
“The Bitter Seed of Magic is another satisfying installment of the Spellcrackers series. Genny [is] a realistically strong heroine . . . believable and likable. There is no shortage of danger and excitement along the way and even a touch of humor too. If you love urban fantasy and are a fan of sexy, to-die-for vampires, then I can’t imagine why Suzanne McLeod isn’t already on your list of must-read authors.”
—LoveVampires
“Fantabulous . . . even better than the second book. The Bitter Seed of Magic is an action-packed adventure filled with twists and turns. It keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to end . . . Genny is a great character. She is intelligent and has a big heart. She is courageous and very lovable. Suzanne McLeod created a very fascinating and complex world. I didn’t want the book to end. Give this series a try! It’s well worth your time; you won’t regret it.”
—Book Lovers Inc.
“[A] story that had plenty of twists and turns, some magical double-dealing and, perhaps best of all, a beautifully paced mystery that took smarts alongside kick-ass attitude to solve. Back that up with some character growth, a good pinch of romance and some skullduggery . . . and the reader really has a treat in store.”
—Falcata Times
“Fun characters, good plots, fun dialogue, some steam and lots of humor to go along with the suspense and mystery. What else could I ask for in a novel? Wonderful! If you’ve already read the first two in the [Spellcrackers] series, you’re going to enjoy this third book. If you haven’t read any of them yet, what are you waiting for? Ten out of six possible stars . . . I love this series.”
—Rabid Reader
“All of the books in the [Spellcrackers] series are just so good . . . amazing! There is the usual amount of action you[’ve] come to expect . . . always exciting . . . It’s so difficult to put the book down! I find reading McLeod’s novels, like Karen Chance’s, to be exhausting—but in a really good way! So much happens! I absolutely loved this book . . . I can’t recommend [it], or this series, enough! McLeod is still up there with my favorites!”
—Ink and Paper
“I love this series, and I think [The Bitter Seed of Magic] might be my favorite so far! If you haven’t checked out this book yet, then I would definitely recommend picking it up soon! I loved it.”
—The Book Bundle
“The Bitter Seed of Magic is a real page-turner with good characterizations and expertly drawn senses of time and place. I read this in one sitting, which has to be a good sign.”
—The British Fantasy Society
PRAISE FOR THE COLD KISS OF DEATH
“Suzanne McLeod’s London is filled with magic, fantastic creatures, forbidden secrets and dangerous desires. The Cold Kiss of Death takes you down those streets on a fast, twisty-turny ride that will keep you glued to the pages to the very end.”
—Devon Monk, author of the Allie Beckstrom novels
“A book with a lot of emotional depth . . . a story well told.”
—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of
Dead Reckoning
“An exciting and satisfyingly complex read. Genny makes a realistically likable yet kick-ass heroine. Throw in an imaginatively realized fantasy London . . . and it’s clear that this book is a sure-fire winner for fantasy fans. Fans of Patricia Briggs, Kim Harrison and Charlaine Harris would do well to add Suzanne McLeod to their reading lists. Faeries, vampires, mystery and magic—this book has it all!”
—LoveVampires
“A clever, twisty paranormal . . . It’s a seductive and enthralling urban fantasy that at times is surprisingly gritty too . . . with the fast-paced action, you’ll be treated to a dark and frenzied climax. Urban fantasy fans should enjoy this seductive paranormal thriller that crackles with blood, lust and wit.”
—Total Sci-Fi Online
“Genny is the Anita Blake of the fae world mixed with Rachel Morgan. She is tough, likable, and the series as a whole is dark, action packed and full of mystery. I look forward to book three and anything else this author can offer paranormal readers. [McLeod] is an author you need to check out if you are a lover of the genre.”
—Amberkatze’s Book Blog
“Great writing, enough sass to make [Genny] believable and, above all, a tale that makes us all want to visit to see the ‘hidden’ side of this ancient city . . . perhaps Britain’s premiere urban fantasy author.”
—Falcata Times
“The writing is fast [and] the plot pitched at a perfect (sometimes breathless) pace. [McLeod] has proved that she’s going to be a strong presence in the urban fantasy genre.”
—SFRevu
“Genny is hot, independent and kicks major magical and paranormal butt. Fresh, unique and urban paranormal fantasy at its best . . . This series is fascinating, and this author is on my must-read list.”
—ParaNormal Romance.org
THE SWEET SCENT OF BLOOD
“The fast pace of the plot and the fascinating cast of characters will give you a happy little vacation between two covers.”
—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of
Dead Reckoning
“I loved it to pieces . . . a splendid first novel. Fast and furious, funny and fae, the first Spellcrackers book is a cracker of a read . . . damned good.”
—Simon R. Green, New York Times bestselling author of
The Bride Wore Black Leather
“I really loved The Sweet Scent of Blood. The interactions among the magical cast are beautifully handled, and Genny’s narrative voice is perfect . . . all in all, a great read, and a great world, which I’m looking for
ward to revisiting.”
—Mike Carey, author of the Felix Castor novels
“Surprisingly assured and pleasingly engaging. Good fun . . . and nice to read a British-style Dresden or perhaps a Rachel Caine.”
—sffworld.com
“From the opening passage, [McLeod’s] characters jumped off the page and took the reader by the hand through a London that blended myth and legend with the modern world . . . a tale that will stay with the reader long after the final page is turned . . . The undead and the fae face off in a no-holds-barred tale. Definitely an author to watch.”
—Falcata Times
Ace Books by Suzanne McLeod
THE SWEET SCENT OF BLOOD
THE COLD KISS OF DEATH
THE BITTER SEED OF MAGIC
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
THE BITTER SEED OF MAGIC
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with The Orion Publishing Group
Copyright © 2011 by Suzanne McLeod.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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an imprint of The Orion Publishing Group,
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London WC2H 9EA, United Kingdom.
ISBN : 978-1-101-55369-5
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For Corrie and Sophie, faithful friends
Prologue
Curse: n. A magical imprecation that brings or causes great trouble or harm.
Curses are never good – and never more so when you end up trapped in the middle of one – like the droch guidhe, the curse that started eighty years ago.
Clíona, a powerful sidhe queen – one of the noble fae – fell in love with a human, and she chose to bear him a son. Like all mortal children born of sidhe and human, her son was human and therefore ill-suited for life in the Fair Lands. So although she loved him with all her heart, she left him with his father when she was forced to return to her throne, charging those lesser fae who lived in the humans’ world to watch over him and keep him safe.
Only the lesser fae didn’t watch him closely enough.
The vampires found him.
And they lured him to his death.
Distraught at losing her son, Clíona cut off the lesser fae from the Fair Lands and laid the droch guidhe on them, that they should also know the grief in her heart.
Faelings – the mortal children of lesser fae and humans – were (and still are) the first victims of the curse: easy pickings for the vampires through no fault of their own. Unwilling to see more of their mortal children die before their time, and hoping to deny the curse its prey, London’s lesser fae first chose to stop having children with humans, but as time moved on, it became clear that not only were no faelings being born, but since the curse had been laid, no full-blood fae children had been born either.
The curse had blighted the lesser fae’s fertility.
And while they might be nearly immortal, while they might be able to heal themselves of most injuries, they are the offspring of the Shining Times, born of magic and nature conjoined, and to survive, they must continually renew their connection to keep it strong, and that means they must procreate. For if the fae don’t procreate, then the magic doesn’t either, and if the magic fades, then it won’t be long before the fae follow it.
London’s lesser fae are dying – literally – to break the curse.
But now they think they’ve found another way.
Me.
Chapter One
I stood at the entrance to Dead Man’s Hole, the now disused mortuary under Tower Bridge, shivering as the chill March wind sliced through my leather jacket. The wind tossed the distant voices of tourists visiting the bridge with the angry cries of the seagulls, and brought me the wilder scent of the river. Weak sunlight flickered into the mortuary’s large cave-like interior, making its Victorian glazed-brick walls and curved ceiling waver with watery reflections. Before me, my shadow stretched thin across the rough concrete floor, only to fade as it reached the large white sand and salt circle drawn in the room’s centre. Inside the darkness of the circle lay the dead girl I’d come to see.
More than fifty humans a year lose their lives in the River Thames.
I wiped my damp palms down my jeans and walked into the mortuary, nodding at the female police constable standing watch on one side. The astringent scent of sage coated with something sweet and thick caught the back of my throat. I swallowed back a choking cough, and kept walking until I reached the edge of the circle. Flecks of rust-coloured bone and the dried green of shredded yew patterned the sand and salt in intricate swirls like the ritual ashes scattered after a dwarf’s funeral pyre. The blood-spattered bone and yew meant the circle was consecrated to stop the dead from rising and hell-born visitors from appearing: standard police practice since the demon attack on London last Hallowe’en. And overkill, in my opinion, considering it was now March, not October. But then, my opinion wasn’t one the police were usually interested in.
More than fifty humans a year lose their lives in the River Thames; around eighty per cent are suicides.
‘Stay outside the circle, Ms Taylor,’ the WPC said, her voice echoing the disapproval evident in her expression, her hand tightening around the extendable baton at her side. I quickly lifted my own hand in acknowledgement. She was a witch, and while I was no longer on the Witches’ Council’s hit list, witches still tend to get a little trigger-happy around me. The last thing I wanted was to give her an excuse to zap me with the Stun spell stored in the baton’s jade and silver tip.
Careful not to let my trainers scuff the sand circle I studied the dead girl staring sightlessly up at me from its centre. She was in her late teens, and Mediterranean ‘girl next door’ pretty: dark brown eyes, blue-black hair still wavy even while wet, and a dusting of freckles over her nose. More freckles dotted the dark skin of her shoulders, but where the spaghetti strap of her flowered sundress had slipped, the line of paler flesh it exposed suggested her colour was a result o
f sun or a sunbed, and not her natural skin tone.
More than fifty people a year lose their lives in the River Thames.
And none of them fae.
The dead girl didn’t look like any sort of fae. The suntan was the obvious giveaway; only human DNA produces melanin. As a sidhe fae, I could lie naked in the middle of the Sahara for a week and the dark-honey shade of my skin would never change, the blood-amber colour of my hair would never lighten, and even the sunburn would be nothing more than a rosy blush thanks to my fast-healing fae metabolism. But Hugh – Detective Sergeant Hugh Munro of the Metropolitan Police’s Magic and Murder squad – wouldn’t have called me in to look at the body if this was just an ordinary human death. And the witches wouldn’t have put her in a consecrated circle.
So either she wasn’t all human, or—
Dread constricted my throat. I didn’t want this to be real. I didn’t want to think about what this girl’s death might herald. The droch guidhe that afflicted London’s fae had already mutated in the past by blighting their fertility, and now it looked like it might be mutating again. And if it was, was this girl’s death my fault? Had I somehow caused it by not doing what the fae wanted – by not having the child they wanted? A child they thought would crack the curse – despite there being no reason other than I was sidhe. Guilt at my continued refusal stabbed at me, but it was too life-altering a decision to say yes to without some sort of guarantee . . . and without knowing the magical consequences for the baby, the one innocent I should protect above all others . . .