Gunmetal Magic (kate daniels)

by Ilona Andrews

  Raphael focused on the blade. “It’s ceremonial.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The blade has never been sharpened.” He drew his finger along the knife’s curved edge. “See? No marks on the metal. Also the profile is wrong. It’s too curved to stab in a forward motion, but if I slashed with this, I couldn’t draw it through the wound all the way. It almost looks like a tourné knife.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a cooking knife for peeling. You remember, we have the set in our butcher block.”

  He would have to stop saying “our” sometime. Pointing it out to him now would stop the flow of knife information, though, and I needed his expertise. I knew guns, but Raphael knew knives.

  He kept going. “If it was sharpened and shorter, it might be a variation of a karambit, a curved knife from the Philippines. Shaped like a tiger’s claw. I never really saw much use in it—too small and my own claws are bigger. Where was this found, did you say?”

  “Crete.”

  Raphael frowned. “Cretan knives and swords were typically narrow and tapered, like the Greek kopis.” He turned the picture. Turned it again. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  He lifted the picture with the knife pointing down. “Pickaxe. That’s what it reminds me of. The only way to get the maximum effect of this blade is to stab someone with it straight down.” He raised her fist and made a hammering motion. “Like with an ice pick.”

  “Like if someone was tied down and you stabbed them in the heart?”

  “Possibly. And Anapa killed four people for that?” Raphael’s voice dripped with derision and rage.

  “We don’t know that.” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice. “All we know is that Anapa knew about the knife and it’s important. We don’t know why.” And there was no convenient description of it either. A little card listing its name and special powers would’ve been nice. “It’s a place to start looking.”

  I flipped to the end of the book. More artifacts. Nothing else I recognized. The knife had to be the key.

  “You matter to me,” Raphael said. “You always did, and not because you were a knight or a shapeshifter.”

  Suddenly the game wasn’t funny anymore. “I mattered so much that rather than waiting for me to get my shit together, you found another woman. Let’s be honest, Raphael, get a blowup doll, put a blond wig on her, and she and I would matter about the same to you. Hell, the blowup doll might be better. She won’t talk.” Christ, I sounded bitter.

  “I don’t want to play anymore,” he said. “I love you.”

  It hurt. You’d think I’d be numb by now.

  “Too late. You are about to be engaged.”

  “Rebecca doesn’t matter,” he said.

  “Raphael, she’s a living, breathing woman. Someone you felt strongly about. Of course, she matters.”

  “Rebecca isn’t my fiancée.”

  I froze. “Come again?”

  “I said, Rebecca is not my fiancée,” he repeated.

  “What do you mean, she isn’t ‘my fiancée’? I mean, your fiancée.”

  Raphael shrugged. “She’s some gold digger I picked up at a business engagement. Someone must’ve pointed me out to her as a good catch, so she attached herself to me. My mother has been getting on my last nerve with her machinations, and since I had to go to the Bouda House for a barbecue, I took Rebecca there. After she told Mom that it was very exciting that we all turned into wolves, I explained to my mother that if she didn’t lay off me, someone like Rebecca would be my next mate. Rebecca must’ve overheard me.”

  This was not happening.

  “You left me,” Raphael said. “No explanation. We had a fight, then we all went to battle Erra, and after she set all of us on fire you disappeared. I thought you were dead. I went to every hospital. I sat in waiting rooms. Every time they would bring in a new charred body, I’d stop breathing because I thought it might be you under all that crusted meat. And what do I get after all that? A note in the mail. Five days later. Five fucking days later, Andrea! ‘Don’t look for me, I have to do something for the Order, I will be back soon.’ A fucking note. No explanation, nothing. You dismissed me from your life and went on your crusade. Now, weeks later, you suddenly decide to call me, like I’m just some mutt who will always be waiting for you.”

  I opened my mouth.

  “I brought her because I wanted you to know what it felt like. You go through life so hung up on helping people you barely know that you hurt people who actually give a damn. You want the truth about Rebecca? Fine. I barely know her. She was a means to an end. I haven’t even slept with her. I thought about it.”

  There were too many words I wanted to say at once.

  “Out of spite,” Raphael said. “She kissed me and it didn’t do anything.”

  The correct response finally accreted in my mind. I made my mouth move.

  “I hate you.”

  He spread his arms. “What else is new?”

  Everything that churned inside me, everything that hurt and twisted, like a whirlwind of shattered glass in my chest, tore out, shredding through my brave front. “You broke my heart, Raphael!” I snapped. “I cried for hours when I got home last night. It felt like my life was over, you egoistical sonovabitch. And you, you put me through this just to teach me a lesson? Who the hell do you think you are? Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know exactly how much.”

  “There is a difference! I was one of those charred bodies in a hospital bed. I was out for three days and woke up in a military hospital, chained to my bed. There was an Order’s advocate sitting by my side. I had no choice: either I came with him or I would be taken into custody by the Order and brought to headquarters in leg irons. I got to write two notes, stop by my apartment for ten minutes to grab my clothes, and we were gone. I didn’t even have a chance to make arrangements for Grendel. I had to take the dog with me and they agreed to it only because I would rather fight the lot of them than let the dog starve to death inside my place. I didn’t hurt you on purpose, but you hurt me deliberately. Am I a toy to you?”

  His eyes sparked with red. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “You…you asshole! You spoiled baby!”

  “Self-centered idiot.”

  “Momma’s boy!”

  “Stuck-up, self-righteous harpy.”

  “I’m so done with you,” I told him through clenched teeth.

  “I think I’m tired of doing things your way,” Raphael said lazily. “Don’t expect me to go meekly into the night just because you said so.”

  My voice could’ve cut through steel. “If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”

  He snapped his teeth. “You better make it count. One shot will be all you get.”

  That challenge burned right through the last of my defenses. My other self spilled out of my human body in a mess of fur and claws, exhaling fury. I snapped my monster teeth at him, my beastkin voice a ragged snarl. “I’ll carve your heart out. You’ll regret the day you were ever born. Of all the selfish, egoistical bastards—”

  “And you want me.” He grinned. “You can’t wait to climb back in my bed.”

  “Grow up!”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  The magic slammed into us, like a massive deluge. Wards spilled from the top of the door frame and windows in shimmering curtains of translucent orange. Blue symbols ignited in the corners of the room.

  The moon on the wall opened its eyes with a metallic screech.

  I dived under the desk and Raphael flattened himself against the wall, under the scales.

  “Boudas,” the moon said in Anapa’s amusement-saturated voice. “So predictable. Couldn’t resist snooping around, could you?”

  Crap! Crap, crap, crap.

  Raphael jerked a curtain off the window and tossed it over the moon.

  “That won’t help you,” Anapa said. “Don’t leave. I’ll be r
ight there.”

  I lunged out from under the desk and hit the ward on the closest window. Pain burned through me, I blinked, and Raphael pulled me off the floor. My teeth rattled in my skull.

  “Ah-ah-ah,” Anapa-Moon said. “I told you not to leave.”

  Raphael hurled himself at the window ward. His resistance to magical wards was higher than mine. The defensive spell clutched at him, sharp whips of orange lightning stinging his skin. His body jerked, rigid. His eyes rolled back in his skull.

  I grabbed him and pulled him back. The orange lightning kissed me, and I almost blacked out again. We crashed to the floor.

  “Fi-fi-fo-fum,” the moon sang. “I smell the blood of hyena man and I’m coming up the staaaairs.”

  Raphael’s eyes snapped open. He surged off the floor and looked up.

  If we busted through the floor, we’d fall right into the welcoming embrace of his security. Going through the ceiling was our best bet.

  “Pick me up!” I called.

  He grabbed me and thrust me upward. I punched the ceiling, putting all of my strength into it. The panel broke from the impact of my fist, and I hit the wood beam underneath it.

  “What are the two of you up to?” the moon wondered.

  I hammered the ceiling with my fist again and again, widening the hole. The wood cracked, then broke under the barrage of my punches. I tore the broken section of the beam out, hurling it aside, and punched the darkness. It tore and the night sky winked at me through the narrow gap. No attic. We would break out straight onto the roof above. Raphael set me down on my feet, took a running start, and jumped, flipping in midair, kicking at the opening I had made. He landed in a roll as a shower of wooden boards hit the floor. “Go.”

  I crossed my arms over my head and jumped. Wood and shingles hit my forearms, and I grabbed onto the roof and pulled myself up. The edge of the roof glowed with magic. On the ground below, huge orange symbols stretched across the luminescent lawn, a pale yellow glow coating every single blade of grass in a sheath of magic. The entire yard around the house was warded and it was a hell of a ward. Great.

  Raphael forced his way through the hole behind me.

  Landing on the lawn wasn’t an option. The magic could fry us or do something worse. I spun around looking for a tree, a tower, a wall, anything close enough to jump to from the roof.

  At the far end of the roof a long cable dived down to the wall that surrounded Anapa’s home.

  “Power line,” we barked at each other at the same time.

  We dashed along the roof. I danced onto the power line and ran along it, balancing on my oversized feet. One, two, three, tilt, tilt…I leaped on the low stone wall that separated Anapa’s house and yard from the street. Raphael pulled off his shoes, hurled them into the night, took a running start and jumped, catching the power line with his arms. He swung himself back up on it and walked slowly, arms out, suspended between the glowing orange lawn and the black sky.

  I held my breath.

  The side door of the mansion sprang open. A deep rumbling roar reverberated through the night, made by a cavernous mouth. My hackles rose.

  Raphael swayed, ran the next ten feet, and jumped, clearing the remaining distance in one powerful leap. He sailed through the air and landed on the wall, next to me.

  A bright, unnaturally yellow flash of light exploded on the lawn. I didn’t wait to see what it was. We jumped down off the wall into the street and ran.

  The roar chased us. Out of the corner of my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a huge shadow leaping over the wall like it was nothing. The creature landed on the street behind us, as big as a rhino, its head with a huge mane armed with long crocodilian jaws. Its odor hit me, a pungent oily odor, reminiscent of rotten fish, old blood, and decomposing sweat, shot through with an unnatural stench. Revolting, violent, terrible, it lashed at me, promising death. Fear squirmed through my body. My instincts whipped me into a sprint.

  We raced down the street.

  The thing behind us roared again and gave chase. It pounded after us, huge, but freakishly fast.

  I glanced back. The distance between us was shrinking.

  The air turned to fire in my throat. A stitch pricked my side.

  Run. Run faster. Faster!

  I glanced over my shoulder again. The beast was gaining. We were sprinting full-out, and it was gaining.

  We took a corner at breakneck speed. A ruined building loomed in front of us, a big, dark wreck with a gaping black hole in its bottom floor. Raphael pointed at it. We veered right and leaped through the gap into the darkness.

  Inside, the building was vast and empty, a shell bordered by outer walls. Tall support columns rose up, supporting nothing—the top floors had crumbled long ago, and the moon shone through the holes in the dusty glass roof, painting the floor in random patches of blue light. We flew across it like two phantoms, silent and quick, and sank into the deep inky shadows against the opposite wall. Raphael reached over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.

  Maybe the beast would pass.

  A dark silhouette loomed in the gap in the wall through which we had entered. No such luck.

  The beast took a step forward. Half of its body swung down—it lowered its head. I heard it sniff. Tiny puffs of dust slid across the floor. It was tracking us. If we fled, it would outrun us. If we took to the rooftops, we’d eventually run into ruins and have to land, and it would be waiting. We had to kill it.

  Next to me Raphael shrugged off his tuxedo jacket. He wore twin leather sheaths underneath. He drew two foot-long knives out and passed them to me. I held them while he pulled off his shirt. His pants followed. He took the knives back and I eased my backpack off my shoulders.

  The beast took a step forward. Claws screeched on the concrete. Step—scratch. Step—scratch. Its revolting scent drifted toward us, washing over me like a shower of cold slime.

  I gathered myself into a tight clump.

  The beast moved into a patch of light and my pulse sped up. What I had mistaken for a mane of coarse hair was a mane of tiny brown tentacles. They wriggled and twisted, stretching and coiling, like a nest of three-foot-long, thin earthworms. Scratch the neck from the list of possible targets. Cutting or clawing through the mass of writhing flesh would take too long.

  The beast dipped its head again, bracing on powerful legs sheathed in sandy fur. The long claws on its front paws scratched the dust. Its sturdy frame looked built for ramming. If it took a running start, it would smash straight through the wall and not even slow down. I could see no weakness. Why did things like this always happen to me when I didn’t have an assault rifle handy?

  The beast raised its head. Large yellow owl eyes peered straight at us.

  We’d have to go for the gut and eyes. Those were our only options.

  I touched Raphael and pointed to my eyes. He nodded, hunched down, muscles contracting, and leaped. His skin burst in midjump as his body snapped into a new, stronger form. A man had started the leap, but a bouda in warrior form finished it: a seven-foot-tall lethal hybrid of animal and man, armed with deadly claws and wicked teeth set into oversized jaws that could crush a cow’s femur like it was a peanut shell.

  I dashed to the side.

  Raphael landed on top of the beast and raked its back with his blades. Blood drenched the gashes. The creature bellowed and dropped to the ground, rolling. Raphael leaped off, into the gloom. The beast sprang to his feet and whirled, trying to lunge after him.

  I struck from the side, slicing across its forehead with my claws. The creature whipped back, too fast. Teeth grazed my skin. I jumped back and the beast lunged at me, snapping its teeth. I leaped backward again and again, zigzagging as it chased me. Damn, it was fast.

  Raphael shot out of the gloom and cut at the beast’s side with his knives.

  The beast paid him no mind. The tentacles on its head sparked with deep orange. The orange light pulsed outward and caught my arm. An intense ache seared my shoulder, a cold burn, like
someone had skinned my arm open and poured liquid nitrogen over the muscle.

  I cried out and raked its snout with my claws, gouging the sensitive flesh.

  The beast lunged at me. The glow pulsed and clutched me. Pain exploded in my head. I couldn’t move; I couldn’t make a sound. I just shuddered in the magic’s grip, the agony so intense, it felt like my bones were splintering.

  Someone cut my legs off, the walls somersaulted, and I crashed into the dirt.

  Behind the beast Raphael turned into a whirlwind of steel, flinging blood into the night.

  The beast howled.

  I tried to get up, but I still couldn’t move my legs. I could see them right there in the dirt, but they didn’t obey.

  Raphael hammered a massive kick into the creature’s ribs.

  The abomination spun toward him, its mane sparking.

  Raphael ran.

  The creature bellowed, an otherworldly, terrible sound. Blood from the cuts I’d caused dripped into its eyes, rendering it half-blind. It raised its snout, inhaled, and charged after Raphael.

  I just had to get up. I had to pull myself upright.

  Raphael sprinted along the wall, leaping over the piles of refuse. The creature raced after him, devouring the distance between them in huge leaps. The floor shook with each thud of its paws.

  I rolled up to my knees, clumsy like a drunk, and forced myself upright.

  The creature’s mane turned bright orange.

  “Magic!” I yelled.

  Raphael glanced over his shoulder.

  The orange glow around the beast’s mane coalesced and whipped from the creature in twin bolts of bright lightning. Raphael zigzagged, but it was too late. The left bolt caught his ankle, splintering into a dozen small forks that bit into Raphael’s flesh. It jerked him off the ground.

  The world stopped. All I could see was Raphael’s face, twisted by pain. Fear clamped onto me and spurred me into a desperate sprint.

  For a second he seemed to float weightlessly, suspended a foot above the ground, and then he crashed down, rolling in the dirt.

  Please don’t die. Please, please, don’t die.