Magic Bleeds

by IIona Andrews

  Doolittle sighed. “Drink your tea.”

  I looked at my glass. I’d had Doolittle’s iced tea before, and exercising extreme caution was in order. I sipped a tiny bit. Sugar overload. I waited to see if my teeth instantly disintegrated from shock. Nothing. My mouth was stronger than I gave it credit for.

  Doolittle sat down in a chair and looked at me, and for once his eyes were empty of their usual humor. His voice was soft. “You can’t keep doing this, Kate. You think you’re going to live forever. But sooner or later we all have to pay the piper. One day you’ll laugh and joke and roll out of your bed, and you’ll fall. And then it won’t be three days of bed rest. It will be three months.”

  I reached over and touched his hand. “Thank you for fixing me up. I don’t mean to cause you grief.”

  He grimaced. “Drink. You need fluids.”

  Someone knocked.

  “It’s me,” Jim’s voice said.

  Doolittle offered me a sweatshirt. I pulled it on and he let Jim in. Jim looked like he’d chewed bricks and spat out gravel.

  He grabbed a chair, set it by my bed, sat down, and looked at me.

  I looked back at him. “Sorry I put my hands on you. Won’t happen again.”

  “It’s cool. You weren’t yourself. You better now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s try this again, then. Tell me about the fight.”

  “Did Dali tell you about Erra?”

  “She did.”

  I sketched the fight for him, leaving our family connection out of it, and described my rescue.

  “Scales,” Jim said.

  “Yep.”

  I knew what he was thinking—shapeshifters resulting from infection by Lyc-V were mammals. There were several cases of humans turning into reptiles or birds, but all of those happened because of outside magical factors, not Lyc-V infection, and none of those transformations had an in-between stage. The shapeshifter who grabbed me was in a warrior form. Half-human, half-something scaled.

  “What sort of eyes did she have?” Doolittle asked.

  “Olive iris, slit pupil. Reddish glow.”

  “Glow isn’t a good indicator,” Doolittle said. “Hyena eyes reflect light in any number of colors, yet bouda eyes always glow red. But the slit pupil is interesting.” He glanced at Jim.

  “There was a man on the roof,” I said. “She knocked him off. Is he okay?”

  Jim nodded. “He says the same thing: scales, red eyes, tail. I’ve smelled a similar scent before.”

  “What was it?”

  Jim grimaced. “A croc.”

  Shapeshifter crocodiles. What was the world coming to?

  “Stranger things have happened.” Doolittle pointed at my glass. “Drink.”

  I showed the glass to Jim. “The good doctor put a spoon of tea into my honey.”

  “You’re drinking tea a honey badger made,” Jim said. “What did you expect?”

  Doolittle snorted and began packing gauze and instruments into his medical bag.

  “If you didn’t put her on me, then who did?”

  “I don’t know,” Jim said.

  It wasn’t Curran. Security was Jim’s territory; if Curran felt I needed a bodyguard, he would have asked Jim to take care of it.

  Curran. Oy.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “One of the Clan Wolf’s satellite houses,” Jim said. “The Wolf Clan House is outside the city, but they have a few rallying points in Atlanta’s limits. This was the closest.”

  “And Curran?”

  “At the Keep.”

  “Did you tell him about this?”

  “Not yet. Is there anything more you have to tell me?”

  “No.”

  He showed no signs of moving. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Cat and spy master, lethal combination. “No. What makes you think that?”

  Jim leaned back. “You’re a lousy liar.”

  “That’s true.” Doolittle rolled up his stethoscope. “I’ve played poker with you, young lady, and the whole table knew every time you got a good card.”

  “Deception makes you uncomfortable,” Jim said. “It works for you on the street, because when you promise to hurt someone, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that you mean it. But if you came to me for an assignment, I’d fire you after the first minute.”

  “Fine. I’m a bad liar.” I looked at Jim from above the rim of my glass. “That doesn’t mean I’m hiding something. Maybe there is nothing more to that story.”

  “You’ve put the glass between yourself and me and you’re keeping it pressed against your mouth so the words don’t get out,” Jim said.

  I put the glass down.

  “Is it an Order thing?” Jim asked.

  “No, it’s my thing. It has no relevance to the Pack.”

  “Okay,” Jim said. “If things change and you want to tell me or if you need help, you know how to find me.”

  He got up and walked out.

  I looked at Doolittle. “Why the sudden goodwill?”

  “Who knows why cats do things. My guess is you taking a blade for him may have something to do with it . . .” Doolittle raised his head and grimaced. “They just can’t leave well enough alone.”

  A knock sounded through the basement.

  “Who is it?” Doolittle called.

  “I’ve come to see the patient!” a woman’s voice called.

  “Is she naked?” another female voice asked. “I always wanted to see her naked.”

  “Shush. George, will you keep me standing here all day?”

  I looked at Doolittle. “Is that who I think it is?”

  He bristled and headed to the door.

  Besides Curran, two shapeshifters in the Pack gave me pause: Mahon, the Bear of Atlanta and the Pack’s executioner, and Aunt B, alpha of the boudas and Raphael’s mother. The rest were dangerous, but those two made me take a moment or two and think things through before I blundered on. I’d seen Aunt B in action with her human skin off. Blowing her off wasn’t in my best interests no matter how pissed off or weak I was.

  “You’re looking very fine, George,” Aunt B said. Craning my head to see the two of them would destroy what little semblance of dignity I had left, so I stayed put.

  “What do you want?” Despite Doolittle’s Coastal Georgia Southern accent, the good doctor’s voice lost all of its charm.

  “Why, to see Kate, of course.”

  “The girl has a concussion. Your scheming can wait until her mind is clear.”

  “I’m not here to take advantage of her, George. My goodness.”

  I craned my neck. Doolittle barred the doorway, his finger pointing to the first floor above us. “Up there you are the alpha of the boudas. Down here is my territory.”

  “Why don’t you ask the girl if she wants to see me? If she is too weak or uneasy, I will come back another time.”

  And she just outmaneuvered us both. If I refused to see her now, I might just as well stand on my bed with a giant neon sign: I’M AFRAID OF AUNT B.

  Doolittle came up to my bed. “The boudas wish to speak to you. You don’t have to say yes.”

  Yes, I do, and we both know it. “That’s okay, I’ll see her.”

  Doolittle looked up. “Thirty minutes, Beatrice.”

  Aunt B swept in. Behind her a young female bouda carried a platter. The aroma of spices and cooked meat swirled around me, instantly filling my mouth with drool. Hunger was good. It meant Doolittle’s spells were working and my body was burning through nutrients at an accelerated rate.

  The young bouda set the platter on my bed, stuck her tongue out at me, and departed.

  Aunt B glanced at Doolittle. “Would you mind giving us a bit of privacy?”

  He growled under his breath and stalked out.

  Aunt B pulled up a chair and sat by my bed. In her late forties or early fifties, she looked like a typical young grand-mother: a bit plump, with an easy smile and kind eyes that wou
ld convince a child in trouble to pick her out of a crowd of strangers. She wore a bulky gray sweater. Her brown hair sat in a bun atop her head. If she added a platter of cookies, she’d be all set.

  She greeted me with a warm smile. You’d never know that behind that smile waited a seven-foot-tall monster with claws the size of cake forks.

  “You seem on edge, dear,” she said. “How badly were you injured?”

  Hi, Grandma, what big teeth you have . . . “Nothing major.”

  “Ah. Good then.” She nodded at the platter. Beef, pita bread, and Tzatziki sauce. “Help yourself. Lunch is on me.”

  Not to take a bite would be an insult. To take a bite might obligate me to something and I’d rather be in debt to the devil than to Aunt B. I settled for sipping my tea. “You aren’t propositioning me, are you?”

  “Funny you should say that.”

  I paused with a glass in my hand. Just what I need.

  “It won’t be that kind of proposition.” Aunt B gave me a bright smile.

  I squished a shudder.

  “I’ll come straight to the point to make things easier on both of us.” Aunt B pushed the plate to me. “Curran didn’t return to the Keep last night. I’m neither blind nor stupid and I’ve spent more years sorting out shapeshifter lies than you’ve been alive. Please keep that in mind before you answer. Did he spend the night?”

  Putting claws to my throat was never a good idea. I smiled. “None of your business.”

  “So he did. Did he use the word ‘mate’?”

  “What happened between me and Curran is our own affair.”

  Aunt B raised her eyebrows. “Congratulations. Then you are, indeed, the mate.”

  Why me? “That would be news to me.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the last to know. I’ve known he’d fall for you since he fed you that soup. It was tons of fun watching the two of you take so long to figure it out.”

  “I live to provide entertainment.”

  “There is no need to be so hostile.” Aunt B pinched off a small chunk of her pita. “I’ve called to the Keep. There are no rooms ready for you. Has the Bear approached you?”

  “Mahon? No.”

  “He’s getting slow in his old age.” She chuckled, baring her teeth. A predatory light flared in her eyes. The effect was chilling.

  “What do rooms have to do with anything?” I asked.

  “Curran intends for you to share his quarters.”

  “Do I get turn-down service and a mint on my pillow?”

  “You get to be the female alpha of the Pack,” Aunt B said.

  I choked on empty air.

  “Here, drink your tea, dear. Honestly, what did you think that meant?” she asked.

  I drank my water. Somehow when Curran said “mate,” my mind didn’t translate it as “the Pack’s Beast Lady.”

  “I’m not equipped to be an alpha.”

  Aunt B smiled. “So you don’t want the power?”

  “I don’t.” I didn’t want the responsibility either.

  “What is it you do want?” she asked me.

  “I want to kill the crazy bitch who is running around Atlanta murdering shapeshifters.”

  “Besides that?”

  “I want him.”

  “Without the Pack?”

  “Yes.” I had no idea why I kept answering her questions. There was something in her eyes that made me want to tell her everything I knew so she would pat me on the head and tell me, “Good girl,” at the end. Adolescence in the bouda clan would be hell with Aunt B around.

  “You can’t have just him.” Aunt B’s eyes were merciless. “Curran belongs to the Pack and we won’t let you take him away from us. You need him to be happy, but we require him to survive. If he were to leave the Pack, the alphas would fight for power. No one among the alphas now could take his place and hold it. It would be chaos and blood. Eventually the strongest would win, but the strongest isn’t always the best person for the job.”

  She leaned back. “We lucked out with Curran, and we all know that our chances of getting another Beast Lord like him are slim. I like you, but if you tried to lure him away, I’d be the first in line to kill you.”

  Today was the wrong day to threaten me. “Think you can?”

  “You have a lot of power, but we have the numbers, so yes, we can. I’m not telling you this to get your hackles up. You need to understand the situation clearly. Curran belongs to the Pack. Stand between him and his people and the Pack will tear you to pieces. Your meat is getting cold. Eat.”

  She was right. I knew she was right. They wouldn’t let Curran go. And even if they did, he’d never leave them. He was a shapeshifter and they were his people. I had to find a way around it. “Why can’t I be with him, but not be the alpha?”

  “You want to have your cake and eat it, too. It simply doesn’t work that way. You can’t marry the king and not become the queen. You’ll be the one he’ll growl sweet nothings to in bed, and you’ll be the one he’ll ask for advice. You’ll have unprecedented influence over his decisions, but you want none of the responsibility that comes with it. That’s cowardly and that’s not you. It’s all or nothing, Kate. That’s the deal and it’s not negotiable.”

  “So I have no say in this?”

  Aunt B frowned. “Of course you do. You don’t have to mate with him. You can always reject him. But if you do mate with him, the burden of the alpha comes with it. Ask yourself, would you really settle for a fling? Or do you want him to yourself for always?”

  I made a valiant effort not to ask myself that question. I was pretty sure I knew the answer. That way lay total surrender of all common sense. “I’m not a shapeshifter.”

  “True. Can you become one?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not physically possible. I’m immune to Lyc-V.”

  “Excellent.”

  She lost me.

  “Were you to become a shapeshifter, you’d have to pick the species of your beast. You’d have to choose a clan and someone to donate Lyc-V, which means six clans would feel slighted and that one clan would expect preferential treatment. It’s a can of worms nobody wants to open. This is one of those rare cases when being impartial is actually advantageous.”

  “You’ve given this a great deal of thought,” I murmured. The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question was why.

  “Look at it from our point of view. We want him to mate. As his mate, you have the right to question his decisions, something we can’t do. If Pack members have an issue with him, they could come to you and plead for assistance. If you issue an order, technically he can overrule you, but he would be reluctant to do so. The Pack has been denied this avenue of appeal for too long.”

  She waved her pita around. “Curran is a fair alpha, one of the best. But he has his bad moments and right now nobody dares to contradict him during those. Sure, some people won’t accept you, but that’s normal. Anytime there is a power shift, people rumble. After you kill the first couple of challengers, you’ll be fine.”

  She was definitely after something . . .

  “Nobody questions your power, dear. The alphas have seen you fight and you’re a good asset. Anyone able to snap the legs off two hundred demons with one word isn’t to be taken lightly.”

  She bit into her bread. “Besides, if Curran didn’t think you’re fit, he wouldn’t have made the offer. Yes, he’s obsessed with you, but he’s shrewd enough to take your ability into consideration. Alphas are typically attracted to other alphas. I wouldn’t mate with a weakling, and neither would he.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I growled.

  She laughed softly. “We know you have a history, dear. That much power doesn’t come without baggage and Curran isn’t an idiot. If he proposed to you, he must view your past as an acceptable risk.”

  Had an answer for everything, did she? “Why do you care so much whether I become his mate? You didn’t come here out of the goodness of your heart.”

  She
paused. Her face turned mournful. “Raphael is my third child. The first two went loup at puberty. After him, I said I wouldn’t have any more. I couldn’t keep killing my babies. My boy is everything to me. I’d rip the world apart for him. You and I both know the name of his happiness.”

  “Andrea.”

  She nodded. The pain in her eyes melted into pride. “My Raphael could have any woman he wanted. If he wanted you, you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “I don’t know about that . . .”

  “Trust me. I’ve been courted by his father. Raphael had his pick, but he chose the girl who is beastkin. Because my life wasn’t complicated enough.”

  “Andrea loves him. She’s smart, trained, and—”

  She raised her hand. “You don’t have to sing her praises. I know more about her than you do. But the fact remains, she’s beastkin and she’s my son’s mate. She’s dominant, strong, and cunning. I have no doubt she can fight off any challengers, which means that when I step down, the reins of the bouda clan will pass to a child of an animal. The boudas will accept her. But the Pack may not.”

  “Curran promised me she wouldn’t be persecuted.”

  She pursed her lips. “It’s one thing to ignore the presence of a beastkin in the ranks. It’s another to have it rubbed in the alphas’ faces. Other clans don’t like us; they don’t like our unpredictability and they fear our rages. As the bouda alpha couple, Andrea and Raphael will sit on the Pack’s Council. That won’t go over well with some people. The wolves and Clan Heavy, in particular, will find her presence tough to swallow. There are four hundred wolves and only thirty-two of us. But the Bear is by far the biggest threat. He’s old-fashioned and he holds on to his prejudices. He practically raised Curran and he has a lot of influence with him. If I have any hope of safeguarding my son’s future, I have to counteract Mahon.”

  Finally. It all became clear. “And you think that if I became Curran’s mate, I’d intercede on Andrea’s behalf?”

  “Not only on her behalf, but on behalf of all boudas. There are six children in the clan now, four of whom are teenagers, all past puberty with no traces of loupism. If you think ordinary adolescents are wild, you’re in for a shock. The last time we had that many young ones, Curran was hammering the Pack together and he himself was rather young. He chose to be lenient when my kids stepped out of line. He’s secure in his power now and may not be as indulgent.”