Seven Wardens: Books 5-7

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this rested. She didn't know if it was something her men had put on her waffles or if the grief and exhaustion had finally gotten the better of her, but she'd slept like a rock and felt so much better for it.

"Ah, the prodigal kelpie has awoken."

"Luc!" she cried, clutching the sheet to her chest. "What are you doing in here?"

"Someone had to keep an eye on you while the others try and track down more waffles."

"What?" Her eyes widened as she thought about more fluffy goodness.

"I thought that would get your attention."

Her smile turned into a scowl. "How well do you know Malan?" she muttered under her breath. She could have sworn the two of them were related. Annoyingly cryptic was in their blood.

"Not at all," he responded.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"I told you, I'm keeping an eye on you."

"I'm not about to burn the place down." She rolled her eyes.

"We have experience that suggests otherwise." He crossed his arms and smirked, making her feel like the kind of errant teen who did things like that.

Macey swung her legs out of bed, trying not to think too much about the fact she was naked. It wasn't anything Luc hadn't seen before and it might just drive into him that she deserved privacy as much as the next person.

"I have more control now." She grabbed a shirt from the end of the bed and slipped it on.

Sniffing deeply, she inhaled Jared's recognisable scent and relaxed into it. "Are they seriously looking for more waffles?"

"Yes, among other things."

"Like?"

"Sage leaves picked under the light of a full moon."

She choked on the laughter bubbling up within her. "What?"

"Something to do with the blood cakes. I think they want to use it to ward off ghosts."

"We do seem to have a bit of a haunting problem," she muttered thinking about the various ghostly prophets who caused nothing more than trouble.

Luc chuckled. "Not that kind of ghost. The malicious type."

"Poltergeists?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that. They asked us to do some more work with the blood though."

"Of course they did, let's get on with it then." She didn't wait for him to respond and walked out of the room, towards the kitchen.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't forget what she was having to do. It wasn't the most enjoyable of tasks working with so much blood.

"Do we know what we have to do with it?" she asked.

"I think there's a recipe," Luc replied, seemingly unconcerned by the task.

Walking into the kitchen, Macey spotted an old book lying open on the counter. They really had found her a recipe. Warily, she made her way over to it and looked down the list of ingredients and method. She wrinkled her nose, wishing it was as simple as just taking blood out of them. That was what they'd told her earlier but maybe that was to keep her from freaking out. That would be in line with everything they'd told her so far.

"I thought we wouldn't have to do anything to the blood?"

"I think it depends on what kind of blood cakes you want. But the faeries normally make them from blood mixed with other things and then hide them around the house."

"Yes, I know. The owners have to find them and eat them or they'll waste away and die from the faeries’ magic. But we're not trying to do that..."

"We are trying to attract beings that will eat them though."

"Can things like the Mahoun even eat?" she asked as she pulled several dried spices from the rack and placed them on the side along with some flour. She had to admit that other than the fact it was made with blood, the recipe sounded almost enjoyable. The spice combination would be delicious.

"I have no idea." Luc shrugged. "But I have to assume they can or we wouldn't be doing this." He pulled one of the blood containers out of the fridge and brought it to her other ingredients.

"We're going to need more than that," she said, pulling up her nose at the imaginary smell.

"I thought we'd try a smaller amount first and see how that works."

She grimaced. That would take longer but it was a good idea. None of them would be able to afford more blood being drawn if this didn't work.

"Good plan."

"What do we need to do first?" he asked.

"Heat the blood to seventy-two degrees."

"That's very specific."

"Isn't magic always?" she muttered. "How come you don't know what needs doing for these?" she asked as she measured some blood into the pan, a slight sickness starting as she watched it plop into the pan as a congealed mess.

"I don't know everything. I'm a guide, not an all-knowing deity."

"One of those would come in useful."

"You're telling me. All the answers and none of the work. That definitely sounds like my kind of team player.”

"Do you know any?" She shook a couple of the spices over the pan, hoping she got the right amount. In hindsight, she should have measured them too but it was impossible to do such tiny amounts accurately.

"Gods?"

"Yes."

"Not anymore."

"Cryptic." She was really beginning to hate the non-answers people were giving her. Especially as she suspected most of them came about because they didn't think she could deal with the truth. She'd show them.

The blood began to bubble, filling the kitchen with a tangy metal scent that did nothing for the sick feeling in her stomach. Next time, one of the others was going to do have to do this. She didn't like it at all.

"Do you have a thermometer?" Luc asked.

"There's a meat probe in the second drawer to the left," she answered before remembering the house would provide one the moment the words had left Luc's mouth.

Sure enough, a thermometer waited for them on the side. Handling it carefully, she slipped it into the blood mixture to keep an eye on it, hoping they weren't already over the needed heat.

"Sixty-nine," Luc said. "Not long now."

"No." She sighed in relief. She should have thought of that earlier. Something was up with her and she didn't know what.

"What's next?" Luc asked while Macey kept her eye fixed on the thermometer. "Is there something I can prepare while you do that?"

"You could sift the flour into a bowl," she said, remembering what it said in the recipe. "And then weigh up the sugar I need for the blood syrup."

Even those words felt weird on her tongue. Blood syrup. Of all the things she'd imagined herself doing, making blood cakes was not one of them.

"I think I read somewhere that blood can be used instead of eggs," Luc said from behind her. "They have the same properties."

Macey shivered. "Thanks for that bit of useless information. I'm never going to exchange eggs for blood. Imagine, blood waffles. Yuck."

"I concur," the daimon chuckled and put a bowl of sugar next to her. "Here you go, a hundred and twenty-eight grams of sugar. Are you sure we need to follow the recipe this precisely?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea, but let's do it just in case. I don't want them to have to take more of my blood. It already feels like I'm living with vampires."

"I assume you don't have a blood fetish then. Not at all like the kelpies of old."

Macey sighed. "We're vegetarians. All those legends are rubbish. We don't eat meat, never have."

He laughed again. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Most myths have an ounce of truth in them."

She was saved from replying by the thermometer finally reaching the correct temperature. She took a whisk from a hook on the wall - she was sure it hadn't been there earlier - and begin to slowly add the sugar to the blood, watching as it dissolved. While she stirred the strange mixture, Luc was preparing the other ingredients on the kitchen counter.

"It says here that you need to stir the blood counterclockwise," he suddenly said. "Have you been doing that?"

Macey froze, then realised that luckily, she had indeed.

"Yes," she replied as if that had been her intention all along. "Of course."

"Good. We don't want to anger the Gods." She could hear the grin in his voice, but she didn't smile. The blood slowly congealing in the pot was making her feel queasy. She had been a little hungry when she woke up, but she certainly wasn't any longer. Her stomach shifted uneasily at the very thought of eating. As a vegetarian, stirring blood was the worst food-related thing she'd ever done.

"That smells delicious!"

Macey almost dropped her spoon. Aunt Nessie had sneaked into the kitchen. The older kelpie sniffed the air. "What is that beautiful smell? Some sort of dough? Are you making cake?"

Luc burst into laughter. "Yes, in a way we are."

"Let me know when it's done," Nessie said. "I want a piece."

"Yes, a-" Macey said, almost calling her 'aunt'. No, that was wrong. Nessie was her mother, and now that she'd heard it from her mother's mouth, it was true. She couldn't ignore it any longer. Still, that didn't mean that she had to call her 'mum'.

"Where are you going?" Macey asked, covering her blunder.

"For a walk. I feel like getting some fresh air."

Macey shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. Have you been outside yet? It's nothing but fog out there. You'd get lost immediately."

"Tsk, tsk, don't underestimate an old lady," Nessie snickered. "I can find my way around murky waters. A little bit of fog won't stop me."

Macey knew better than to try and argue. There was no point. If Nessie had set her mind on something, she would do it. Nothing Macey said would make any difference. Besides, she had a cake to bake.

With a quick "see you later", Nessie left and Macey was able to concentrate on her task again. The blood had boiled down to a thick, sludgy mixture, just like the cookbook had predicted.

"Is the flour sifted and mixed with baking powder?" she asked Luc.

"All's ready, my lady," he said with a grin. "Let's see how this will turn out."

A pair of oven gloves appeared next to the hob. Macey wasn't surprised in the slightest. She put them on and carried the hot pan over to the counter, pouring the blood syrup over the flour.

"Stir," she instructed the daimon and quickly put the pan into the sink. She didn't want to look at it ever again. There were tiny congealed blood dollops hanging to the sides of it and she should have probably spooned them into the dough, but no, it would have to work without that. There was only so much blood she could stomach in one day.

She got a tin out of a cupboard and greased it with some butter.

"Did you preheat the oven?" she asked and her heart sank when Luc shook his head.

"I thought you did."

"Urgh." She sighed. "Let's hope it heats really quickly."

She opened the oven door - and realised it was already warm inside.

"Thank you, house," she whispered. How had she survived before moving into a sentient building?

Luc poured the dough into the tin. It was just enough to fill it halfway up. Again, just like the recipe had said. This was going rather well.

She took a quick look at the cookbook. "Bake for forty-five minutes, then test with a skewer." Her insides contracted. "I'm not going to try it."

Luc sighed. "I can do it. That's what I'm here for. Your guide and food tester."

When the dough was in the oven, she turned to him. "Why are you here, exactly? Why haven't you left? You helped us defeat the Mahoun, but what now? Do I still need you?"

His expression darkened. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, that's not what I meant," she said quickly, realising that it was true. Even though he was cryptic and weird, she did like having him around. Not just because he came in handy when making blood cakes. She chose her next words more carefully. Insulting her daimon wasn't on today's agenda. "I just mean, don't you have more important things to do? We won the battle, so the biggest danger is over."

Slowly, he extended a hand and cupped her cheek. She froze, unsure what to do. His hand was warm but she could feel that his skin was callused and scarred in places.

"If I'm still here, what does that mean?"

Her eyes widened. "That the biggest danger is yet to come?"

His thumb drew small circles on her cheek. She was tempted to close her eyes and lean into the touch, but his words troubled her. She'd assumed that the Mahoun had been the largest and most dangerous of the strange beings they were fighting. He was the one who'd started to change the world, to affect the supernatural community. He'd taken the name of the devil, the best known evil personification of all. So how could anything to come be worse?

"I don't know the answer to that," he said quietly. "But all my instincts are telling me to stay. Believe me, I really hope they're wrong. I don't want to see you in danger again."

That confused her even more. He was talking as if she meant something to him. Maybe that was because she was his charge. It was his job to keep her safe. That had to be it. She was just a job to him. She couldn't be more than that.

"We'll know more once we use those cakes," he continued after a pause. "Let's wait until then before we jump to any conclusions."

She nodded and he took his hand from her cheek as if burned. As if he realised that it may have been inappropriate.

"What shall we do until the cake is done?" Macey asked, avoiding his eyes.

"How about we make sure your aunt doesn't get lost?" Luc replied with a grimace. "I bet she's wandering somewhere in the fog by now with no idea how to get back."

Macey sighed. "I think you may be right. Let's wait until the cake is out of the oven, and then we go and look for my... for Nessie."