Magic Bleeds

by IIona Andrews

  “The mission is to ensure the survival of humankind.”

  “Yes, and Moynohan doesn’t think we fit the description.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks,” Andrea snarled. “I’m there because I dedicated my life to it. It gives me a purpose. Something to believe in. Unlike you, I actually did something with my life instead of wasting my time rutting with anything I could hold still for thirty seconds.”

  “A lot of good it did you—you sit on your ass in the Order all day long, polishing your weapons, and the one time you could have made a difference, you chose to do nothing.”

  Andrea slammed her hands on the table. “I chose to obey an order from my commanding officer. Discipline, look it up.”

  “They were dying! They called you for help and you did nothing!”

  “Yes, because Kate went there.”

  Derision twisted Raphael’s face. “So you let her take the fall for you?”

  “I’m not her!” Andrea pointed at me. “I can’t just dramatically rip my ID off and walk away.”

  I glanced at Curran in case he decided to wade in. He sat next to me, his jaw resting on his fist, watching them the way one would watch a fascinating play.

  Andrea kept going. “The Order was there for me when nothing else was. Where was your precious Pack and these fabled shapeshifters when I was sixteen with a sick mother on my hands and no way to feed myself? Where were you? I won’t be a flaky slut bouda. When I give my loyalty, I mean it.”

  “You’re giving it to the wrong people, can’t you see that?”

  Andrea’s eyes blazed. “If I leave, Ted wins. I won’t let that fucker force me out, do you hear me?”

  “Do what you want.” Raphael shook his head. “I’m done.”

  Oh, boy.

  “There are only two streets leading from the Mole Hole, so if Erra panics the crowd, she’ll run them either toward the Casino or toward the Water and Sewer Authority,” I said. “Erra gets off on watching people run. The street leading to Water and Sewer is dark, but the street to the Casino is well lit.”

  “The Casino is more likely,” Andrea said. “Not only can she pick off the stragglers, but scared people naturally tend to run toward the light. It gives them an illusion of safety.”

  And the light will be full of vampires. “Erra might be reluctant to destroy vampires, which could limit casualties.”

  “The People won’t enter the fight,” Curran said. “They have nothing to gain.”

  “Nataraja may or may not know the connection between Roland and Erra, but Ghastek doesn’t know,” I said. “He realizes that something odd is going on and he wants a piece of it. He went through a giant guilt rant when I wouldn’t let him have Deluge’s head. He won’t jump into the fight if you or I ask them, but if a knight of the Order calls them . . .”

  “Ted would never approve vampire deployment. He wants this to be solely the Order’s affair.” Andrea crossed her arms.

  “You’re wasting your time,” Raphael said. “She won’t do anything to help you. It would endanger her career too much.”

  “You’re an ass,” Andrea snarled.

  Raphael executed a perfect bow. “Does the Beast Lord require my presence any longer?”

  “No,” Curran said.

  Raphael walked out.

  Curran gave me a beautiful version of an “I told you so” look.

  I turned to Andrea. “If you call Ghastek and tell him that Ted’s planning a showdown with the navigator of undead mages less than two miles from the Casino and doesn’t want the People involved, Ghastek will foam at the mouth.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Andrea grimaced. “Would’ve never thought of it on my own, being as I sit on my ass all day polishing my weapons.”

  Curran rose. “The Pack thanks the Order for its continued cooperation and goodwill. We look forward to successful relationships in the future.”

  That’s it, you’re done, go away now.

  Andrea drew herself upright.

  “I’m not done,” I said quietly.

  Curran ignored me. “You and I have an understanding, Andrea. Don’t abuse it by insulting your friend and my mate.”

  Andrea walked out.

  I sighed. “You don’t get to decide when I’m finished talking to my friend.”

  Curran perched on the edge of the table. “The conversation was going nowhere. They’re both hurt and neither of them was in the mood to listen.”

  That didn’t change anything. “I thought this was a joint venture. Am I wrong?”

  Curran fell silent for a long moment, obviously picking the right words. “Yes, it is. I know it goes against the grain, but please don’t contradict me again in public. You can scream and kick me in private, but in public we must present a united front. Always. Anything we do outside of those rooms upstairs will be scrutinized and people like B will exploit every rift to their advantage. When a decision is made, I need to know that you will support it.”

  I tapped my fingernails on the table. “Even if the decision was made without my input?”

  He exhaled slowly. “I’m not used to sharing. I’ve never had to do it before. If you cut me some slack, I promise I’ll do the same for you. I will attempt to always include you, but it won’t always be possible. You have to trust me.”

  “Trust goes both ways.”

  Curran leaned closer. “If she were one of mine, I would’ve had my claws on her throat. I permit her to insult you, because she is your friend and you don’t play by the same rules. I want some credit for that.”

  This was going to be an uphill battle. I could see it in his eyes. “You permitted her to insult me because she is a knight of the Order and even you can’t murder them with impunity.”

  “That, too.”

  “As long as you’re aware that I will make my own decisions and I will fight you if you attempt to interfere. I will make an effort to always include you, Your Majesty, but it won’t be always possible.”

  Gold sparked in his eyes and vanished.

  “I deserved that,” he said. “We’re even now. Peace?”

  He watched me carefully. It was important to him. What I said would matter.

  Curran was used to unquestioned obedience and I rejected all authority. He’d never shared his power before and I never had any. Both of us had to give and neither wanted to.

  “Peace,” I said. “This is going to be really difficult for us.”

  “Yes. But we’ll work it out, with enough time.”

  If it got to be too much, there was always the gym.

  We sat in silence for a long minute.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked finally.

  “Erra’s down to three undead: wind, animal, and the third one.”

  “Gale, Beast, and Darkness. And nobody knows what Darkness does.”

  Curran nodded. “Assuming that whatever trap the Order sets for her fails—”

  “Which it will,” I added.

  “—she’ll chase the crowd toward the Casino.”

  “We have to keep her away from the crowd.” I pulled Slayer from the back sheath and put it on my lap. “There is no telling how many she will kill, if they panic.”

  “Not that many,” Curran said. “Most of the deaths will be from people trampling each other.”

  Thanks, Your Fuzziness, that makes me feel loads better. “Ted doesn’t care about the loss of life. He deals in large numbers: the welfare of many outweighs the lives of the few. I can’t do that.”

  “I know.” Curran leaned back. “We’ll take a squad from each clan, female fighters only.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How many per squad?”

  “Between five and ten. We position them along the roofs. You’ll wait on the street by the Casino. She’ll chase you. If you back away far enough, my . . . our people will swarm her undead helpers. You and I will key on her.”

  As plans went, it was painfully simple, but anything else depended too much on Erra’s actions and she was
unpredictable.

  “It makes sense.” I played with my sword, running my hands along the blade. “You shouldn’t go to this fight. You’re male and a shapeshifter; that makes you twice as vulnerable to Erra.”

  “I have to go. It’s in the job description.”

  “It’s not a fight that you can win, Curran.”

  “I don’t get to cherry-pick the battles I know I’ll win.”

  A narrow smile curved his lips. He looked wicked and almost boyish at the same time. Something jabbed me right under the heart, where I stored my fears, and they surged through me all at once.

  He was mine. He cared for me, he made me lose all sense, he didn’t give a damn about my father. He was what I wanted, because he made me happy. I wanted him like I’d never wanted anyone in my life.

  I knew how this dance went—I’d gone through its paces before. As soon as I started to care about someone, death would snatch him from me.

  Curran was going to die.

  There was nothing I could do to prevent it. He would die, because that was what always happened.

  My throat constricted. “Let me take care of it.”

  “No. You aren’t strong enough on your own. You’ve fought her twice to a draw.”

  “I almost had her.”

  Curran nodded. “I heard. And you could’ve taken her, too.”

  My voice came out flat. “Rub it in, why don’t you.”

  He grinned. “No time for that now. Maybe later.”

  I closed my eyes. There wouldn’t be any later.

  “Are you imagining me rubbing it in?” he asked.

  “I’m counting to ten in my head.”

  “Is it helping?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t help me with you either. I used to lift weights to alleviate frustration, but someone blowtorched my weight bench. How did you do it, by the way?”

  “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

  I felt like I was trying to hold back a giant rock as it rolled down the mountain. No matter what I did, it just kept rolling, grinding at me with its weight.

  He was going to die.

  “There is another reason,” Curran said. “You’re my mate. I installed you in my rooms. You aren’t yet alpha. To get you confirmed as alpha, I’d have to bring you in front of the Council and they will bitch, and moan, and drag it out, and our time is short. Besides, the true alpha authority comes once you’ve proven yourself. That takes weeks, months sometimes, and several kills. Because you’re my mate, the shapeshifters will treat you with courtesy, but in the field, when they’re between life and death, they won’t listen to you. Seven squads means seven female alphas. You’ve seen how well they get along on their own.”

  It was hard to argue with him, because he stubbornly insisted on making sense. “Put one of the alphas in charge, then.”

  Curran’s blond eyebrows crept together. “And raise one clan above all others, while undermining your future authority? They’d never let you forget it.”

  I held his gaze. “I know Erra. I know what she is capable of. You don’t. Do you at least respect me enough to let me take the lead on this?”

  He didn’t pause. “Yes. But I’m still coming with you. I need to be there.”

  The frustration burst from me. “Argh.” I pushed to my feet. “I fucking hate her for putting me through this. When I get my hands on her, I’ll rip her legs out and feed them to her, boots first.”

  THE SHAPESHIFTERS DIDN’T BELIEVE IN JAILS. TYPICAL punishments were death or labor. In the rare cases when they did sentence someone to isolation, they exiled them to a remote area.

  The Keep did have several holding cells, large, empty rooms equipped with loup cages. One of them held my “bodyguard.” Curran insisted on walking with me to the door. Somehow, despite the early hour, the hallways of the Keep were full of shapeshifters, who made valiant efforts not to stare at me.

  “For nocturnal people, you’re terribly active in daylight,” I murmured.

  “The curiosity is killing them. They’d mob you if they could get away with it.”

  “That would go very badly for everyone involved. I don’t like crowds.”

  Curran pondered that for a moment. “I have some final arrangements to make and then I’m free. Would you have a nice dinner with me?”

  “I’ll cook,” I told him.

  “You sure? I can have it made.”

  “I’d prefer to cook.” It might be our last dinner.

  “I’ll help you, then.”

  He stopped by a door. “She is in there. Can you find your way back by yourself?”

  “I have an uncanny sense of direction.”

  He presented me with his Beast Lord face. “Right. I’ll have a compass, chalk, a ball of string, and rations for five days brought to you.”

  Ha-ha. “If I get in trouble, I’ll ask that nice blond girl you designated as my babysitter.”

  Curran glanced at the young blond shapeshifter who’d discreetly followed us from his quarters. “You’ve been made. You can come wait by the door.”

  She walked over and stood by the door.

  Curran took my hand and squeezed my fingers.

  The shapeshifters froze.

  “Later,” he said.

  “Later.” I may have had a hell of a lot of baggage, but he was no prize either. Living with him meant living in a glass box.

  Curran released my fingers, glanced at the hallway, and raised his voice. “Carry on.”

  Suddenly everybody had someplace to be and they really needed to get there.

  I opened the door and walked into the cell.

  A large rectangular room stretched before me, completely empty except for a loup cage, eight feet tall, with the bars the size of my wrist. The magic was down, or the bars would fluoresce with enchanted silver. Eight support beams extended from the cage’s ceiling and floor, anchoring it to the Keep itself.

  The woman sat within the cage, in the same cross-legged pose as the last time I’d seen her. Her spear leaned against the wall, well out of her reach.

  I approached the cage and sat cross-legged on the floor. I could’ve covered the floor of the room with all the questions I wanted to ask her. The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question was, would she answer?

  The woman opened her eyes. Completely black and impenetrable, like two chunks of coal.

  We looked each other over. She had the face of a woman who spent a lot of time outside and laughed often—her pale brown skin was weather-beaten, crow’s feet fanned from her eyes, and her mouth seemed perpetually hiding a sardonic laugh, as if she was convinced she was the only able mind in a world of fools.

  “He’s very strong.” An odd accent tinted her voice. “Stubborn and proud, but very strong. He’s a good choice.”

  She meant Curran. “What’s your name?”

  “Naeemah.”

  “Do you really shift into a crocodile?”

  She inclined her head—a nod in slow motion.

  “Crocodiles are cold-blooded.”

  “That is a truth.”

  “Most shapeshifters are mammals.”

  “That is a truth also.”

  “So how does it work?”

  Naeemah gave me a wide smile without showing any teeth. “I’m not most shapeshifters.”

  Touché.

  “Why do you protect me?”

  “I’ve told you already: it’s my job. Pay attention.”

  “Who hired you?”

  Red sparked in Naeemah’s eyes and melted into her anthracite irises. “Let me out of the cage and I will tell you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How do I know you won’t stab someone in the back?”

  Naeemah gave me a patronizing look. “Bring the spear.”

  I rose and got the spear. It was about five feet long, with a plain metal head, about nine inches long and close to three inches wide at the base. A tightly wrapped leather cord reinforced the socket, binding it to the shaft so well, the
spear head seemed to sprout from the wood.

  I raised the spear on the palms of my hands, bringing it to eye level. Bent. Almost as if it had been a branch at some point instead of a wooden pole cut perfectly straight from a larger piece of wood. Heavier than expected and very hard. The texture was odd, too, smooth, polished, and pale, like driftwood. Small black marks peppered the wood, etched into it with heated wire. Birds, lions, wavy lines, geometric figures . . . Hieroglyphs, written sideways on the shaft. Each set of characters was segregated by a horizontal line. Small vertical strokes ran in a ring just before the line, in some places only a few, in others so many they circled the shaft.

  The burned marks ended a couple of feet from the spearhead. Interesting.

  “Look there.” Naeemah pointed to the last set of hieroglyphs. Her face took on a regal air. She seemed ancient and unapproachable, like a mysterious statue from a long-forgotten age. “That is my name. Next to it is the name of my father. Following it is the name of his mother and then her older brother, and then their father, and their father’s father before him.”

  “And these?” I drew my fingers across the short marks.

  “Those are the assassins we have taken.” Naeemah sneered. “We don’t kill for profit. Any jackal can do that. We are the hunters of killers. That is what we do.”

  I checked the last name. At least three dozen marks, maybe more.

  “How old are you?”

  “My sons had children before you were born. No more answers. Decide.”

  I went to the door and stuck my head out. The blond shapeshifter waited for me in the precise spot Curran told her to stand.

  “Do you have a key to the loup cage?”

  “Yes, mate.” She pulled the key out and handed it to me.

  “Thank you. And don’t call me ‘mate,’ please.”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  Right.

  Naeemah chuckled from her cage. I sighed and went inside.

  I unlocked the door and handed her the spear. “It’s not as funny when you’re on the receiving end of it.”

  Naeemah took two steps out of the cage and sat back down. I joined her.

  “I let you out, and I’m due some answers. Who hired you?”

  “Hugh d’Ambray.”