Magic Slays kd-5 Read online

  “Fuck, that hurts.” The volhv bared his teeth at me.

  Twenty feet between us. I ran.

  He spun his staff, chanting.

  Ten feet. I flipped Slayer in my hand, reversing the blade.

  Six.

  The volhv swung the staff, aiming to hit me from the left. I blocked the strike with my sword, grabbed his right wrist with my left hand, forcing the staff sideways, and smashed the dull edge of Slayer’s blade into his right side. Ribs crunched. I bashed the volhv’s right arm with the flat of the blade. He dropped the staff. I let Slayer slide from my fingers, dropped into a half crouch, pulled my arms to the sides of my body, and straightened my knees, driving both fists up into the soft underside of his jaw. The volhv’s head jerked back, his body wide open. I sank a punch into his solar plexus. All of the wind rushed out of his lungs in a single, painful breath. The volhv doubled over, and I grabbed his left arm, jerked him forward, and swung my right arm in a wide arc, smashing my fist into the back of his head. The volhv’s eyes rolled up and he went down.

  I danced back on my toes, light and ready, in case he decided to get up.

  The volhv lay still. His staff snapped its beak at me in impotent fury.

  It was over. I still had all this anger to work out, but it was over. Damn it.

  I stopped dancing and felt his pulse. Alive and well. Sleeping like a baby, except babies didn’t usually wake up to a world of hurt.

  I swiped Slayer off of the pavement. “Sorry.”

  If the sword resented being used as a stick, it didn’t say anything.

  The magic drained from the world. The ferocious monster on the volhv’s staff faded back into ordinary wood.

  I raised my arms and stared at the sky. “Really? Now? Would it have killed you to end fifteen minutes ago?”

  The Universe was snickering at me.

  I sighed and headed to my Jeep to get medical supplies, rope, and gasoline. My blood was all over the street, screaming my identity to anyone who’d cared to listen, and I needed to set it on fire.

  CHAPTER 11

  WHEN I RETURNED TO THE OFFICE, ASCANIO OPENED the door and hit me with a thousand-watt smile. The smile evaporated with his next breath.

  “I smell blood.”

  “It’s nothing. Where is everybody?”

  “The wolf and Andrea haven’t come back yet.”

  “There is a bound man in the back of my Jeep. I need you to carry him in and lock him in the loup cage. Don’t untie him. If he comes to, don’t speak with him. He’s a powerful mage and he’ll try to conjure painful things.”

  Ascanio took off. I walked to my desk. A neat stack of files sat in its center, each beige folder marked with the Pack’s paw. Next to them waited a binder filled with papers. I opened it.

  Article Seven, Section A. Clan Land and Property. All real property, as defined by Article 3, Section 1.0, is jointly owned by the Pack, with rights of survivorship. Each Pack member has a right to use and enjoy the entire property, but may not prevent another Pack member from also doing so. The real property subject to a lease between a Clan and the Pack must be for the Clan’s official meeting house, exclusively. Any nonconforming use is a breach of the lease agreement and will function as the immediate revocation of a Clan’s lease. Any personal property located on real property leased by a Clan shall be deemed the sole property of the Clan . . .

  What the hell?

  Ascanio maneuvered the volhv’s body through the door, carrying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and brandished the volhv’s staff at me. “What should I do with the stick?”

  “Lock it in the closet. And be careful; when magic is up, it bites.”

  Ascanio nodded and took the volhv to the loup cage. I pondered the phone. Sooner or later, I’d have to call the volhvs and tell them that I had their boy hog-tied in my back room. Best-case scenario, they would trade Adam Kamen for him. Worst-case scenario, we all die agonizing deaths. Hmmm. Whom to call and what to say?

  Ascanio came back. “What happened to him? He looks like he got his ass run over by a car.”

  He was run over by my fist. “What are these files?”

  “Barabas left them for you. He said to tell you that the Beast Lord is gone on an important errand.”

  Yes, hunting Leslie before she did any major damage.

  “And that you will be handling the petitions tonight.”

  Full stop.

  There were two things I hated: being on display and making decisions about other people’s lives. Hearing petitions involved both. When a shapeshifter had a problem with someone within the Pack, it went up the chain to the alpha couple, who acted as arbitrators. If two different Packs were involved, two sets of alphas had to come to a decision. If a decision couldn’t be reached, the matter went to Curran and, because I was his mate, also to me.

  My original plan was to avoid the petitions altogether. Unfortunately, Curran had explained to me at great length and in a lot of detail how this was one of the burdens of the alpha and how he was disinclined to suffer it by himself. Which was why once a week, I ended up sitting next to His Majesty behind a very large desk in a very large room, providing a convenient eye target for the audience of shapeshifters. Up to now all I’d had to do was look like I was paying attention and hope that Curran didn’t have to cut any babies in half. Dealing with petitions by myself was not on my agenda. I didn’t even know which cases were scheduled for the hearing or what they were about.

  I tapped the binder. “Those are petitions, what is this?”

  “Barabas said that they’re essentially CliffsNotes from the Pack’s code of law relevant to the hearing.”

  I swore.

  “Barabas said you might say that. I’m supposed to tell you this.” Ascanio cleared his throat and produced a remarkably accurate impression of Barabas’s tenor. “Courage, Your Majesty.”

  “I will kill him.”

  “The Beast Lord or Barabas?”

  “Both.” I rubbed my face and glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten past four. The petitions were scheduled at eight, and it would take me an hour to get from here to the Keep, which meant I had a grand total of three hours to cram this stuff into my head. Argh. I so didn’t want to do this. The volhv would have to wait until I sorted this out. Well, he wasn’t made out of ice cream; it wasn’t like he’d melt.

  “Any messages from the Keep?”

  “No, Consort.”

  “Don’t call me Consort. Call me Kate.”

  No news of Julie. Damn it, how long did it take one kid to walk a hundred miles? If Curran’s trackers didn’t report in by tomorrow evening, I’d go and look for her myself. Rene and her world-ending gadget would just have to wait.

  I gathered the files and the binder. “I’m going upstairs. I don’t care who comes to the door, unless there is blood or fire, I’m not to be disturbed.”

  Ascanio clicked his heels together and snapped a crisp salute. “Yes, Consort!”

  Some days I understood why Curran roared.

  READING THROUGH PETITIONS MADE MY BRAIN hurt. I knocked the first two out in an hour, and then I hit a property dispute between the two clans and got stuck. Sorting out who was who and what belonged to whom was like untangling a Gordian knot. If I shook my head and bits and pieces of the Pack’s Law fell out of my hair, I wouldn’t be surprised. I would carefully sweep them up and put them back in Barabas’s binder, but I wouldn’t be surprised.

  It didn’t help that my memory kept replaying the conversation with Evdokia. Do you think your lion didn’t consider who you were before he swept you off your feet?

  What she had told me about Voron and my mother hurt. For the first fifteen years of my life I had trusted Voron completely, without any reservation. If I was in trouble, he would drag me out of it. If he made me endure something, it was necessary for my survival. I didn’t have a mother, but I had a father. He was a god of my childhood. He could do anything, he could fix anything, he could kill anyone, and he loved me
because I was his daughter. Because that was what fathers did.

  It was a lie. A betrayal so deep, it cracked something vital inside me and now I was full of rage. I wasn’t his daughter. I was a tool to be used. If I broke in the final battle, no big loss, as long as I did the damage.

  It hurt. Seeing it now with adult eyes hurt. I needed to scream, to punch and kick and hit something until my pain went away. If I sat still and really let myself think about it, I would lose it. But whatever had happened between my mother and Voron happened in the past. I’d wrestle with it and then I’d get over it. I couldn’t change it; it was done.

  Curran and I were happening now.

  When I was seventeen, with Voron dead for two years and Greg acting as my guardian, I met a guy. Derin was a few years older, handsome, funny. I wasn’t exactly in love, but I was in something. For my first time, it could’ve been worse. The morning after, I walked out of his apartment and walked right into Greg waiting for me on the street.

  I’d thought there would be screaming. Voron had a lot of patience, but he’d screamed on occasion. I should’ve known better. Greg never screamed. He just explained things in a logical, unhurried manner until he made you scream instead.

  Greg took me to the Sunrise House to have breakfast. He bought me one of those giant pancake combos with jam and whipped cream and while I ate, he talked. I could still remember his patient calm voice. “Sex is a human necessity. It’s also an issue of trust, for you more than for other people. Intimacy puts you in danger, Kate.”

  I shrugged. “I can take Derin. He’s not all that.”

  Greg sighed. “That’s not what I mean. Physical intimacy leads to emotional intimacy and vice versa. If you have a relationship with Derin, even if you intend for it to be purely physical, sooner or later you will let down your guard. Tell me, what’s the worst thing that can happen if Derin realizes how powerful you are?”

  I stuffed a huge chunk of my pancake into my mouth and chewed it slowly, just to irritate him. “He’ll connect the dots and sell me out to my real father?”

  “That would be unfortunate, yes. But that’s not the worst thing that can happen.”

  “If you’re talking about transference, we used protection. I’m not an idiot, Greg.”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, then I don’t know.”

  Greg’s blue eyes fixed on me. “Derin is an ambitious sort. Perfect grade point average, valedictorian, the first of his class to be promoted to Apprentice Level Two by the Mage Academy.”

  “Been spying on me?”

  He brushed the barb aside. “Derin aims to go far in life. He wants it all: money, prestige, respect, power. He wants it so badly, he can almost taste it. And you are vulnerable, Kate. You miss your father and you dislike me. You’re desperate for acceptance. If you persist, sooner or later—and I believe sooner—Derin will recognize your potential. He’ll become the best boyfriend you could ever hope to find: kind, gentle, understanding. You’ll fall in love or at least become infatuated. It’s natural: if someone makes you feel better, you want to be with that person. Then Derin will ask you to do something for him. It will start small. Perhaps he has a problem with another student. Or he needs to impress a professor to get a scholarship. A small thing. Nothing really.

  “It might require you to use your magic or perhaps just a drop or two of your blood. You’ll do it, because you love him. Then he’ll ask something else. And then something bigger. And every time you comply, he’ll pamper you and make you feel as if you’re the only woman on Earth. And then one day you’ll wake up and realize that you’ve been used, that you’ve chained yourself to this man who seeks only to further his own interests at the expense of your feelings and safety, and that his careless use of your power has drawn the attention of your father. Now you must defend him and yourself and you’re not ready. Then, when the opportunity presents itself, he’ll betray you to save his own skin. This is the worst thing that can happen. Even if you escape, this experience will scar you and emotional scars never heal completely. You’ll never recover.”

  I stared at him, pancakes forgotten.

  Greg drank his coffee. “You have a problem, Kate. If you form a relationship with someone weak, he’ll be a liability. He’ll feel inadequate and you’ll deny yourself the satisfaction and joy of a true companionship. If you form a relationship with someone powerful, you run the risk of exposure or of being manipulated and used. Don’t ever think that a man in a position of power won’t tear down every wall in his way to form an alliance with you. Your magic makes you a priceless asset. How can you tell if someone loves you or craves your power?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Greg nodded. “Neither do I. A one-night stand with no strings attached is the safest option for you. It’s not fair, but such is your reality. It’s your life, Kate. I will advise you, but I won’t force you to follow my advice. I do urge you to consider what I’ve told you. You’ve come this far. I’d hate to see it all go to waste.”

  I’d gone back to Derin right after breakfast. We holed up in his apartment, drank cheap booze, and had sex for two days. At the end of the long weekend, I decided to take a shower. When I came out, Derin was holding my sword. He’d never seen anything like that before. Could he take some samples? He was doing an independent study for the Mage Academy. It would really help him out.

  I told him I’d trade samples for a chicken burrito. The closest place that sold them was a couple of miles away. He complained, but I wouldn’t budge. The moment he left, I called Greg. It took Greg twenty minutes to get to the apartment, and by the time he got there, I’d shaken the sheets and pillowcases over the balcony, loaded them into the washing machine, swept the floor, and drowned the dishes in the sink. I wiped down the furniture and cleaned the shower drain. I removed all trash, every tissue, every stray hair, everything that could possibly betray me. Greg purified the apartment, searing it with his power. If any residual trace of my magic remained, it would be hidden. If Derin m-scanned the apartment, the m-scan would register only the blazing blue explosion of diviner power. Then we and the trash bags left the building. Forty-eight hours later I was on my way to the Order’s Academy, and I didn’t know if it was because I wanted to get away from Derin or to get away from Greg, because he’d turned out to be right.

  I stared at the files marked with the paw print.

  Curran was paranoid. He valued his safety and the safety of the Pack; hell, he dedicated himself to preserving it. I always thought I put him in danger, and I told him so. He wanted me anyway. That meant everything to me.

  But Curran was also a manipulator. If I sat there and objectively looked at the situation, the picture didn’t look pretty. Roland had marked the Pack for elimination. Curran had grown too powerful, and my father wanted to destroy him now, before the Pack grew any stronger. He had attacked it with rakshasas, and when that failed, he sent my aunt to decimate the shapeshifters. One way or the other, the clash between Roland and the Pack was coming. What did Curran have to lose by mating with me?

  I wanted him so much that I’d never considered he might want to use me. All this time I’d been focused on worrying that my ancestry would keep him from being with me. It’d never crossed my mind that he could view it as an asset. It was time to take the blinders off.

  When I looked into his eyes, I knew he loved me. He came for me when I had given up all hope of surviving. He rescued me from a horde of demons. He wanted to protect me. He never actually said it, but it felt like he loved me.

  Also, Voron was a great father, and my mother was a saint. And pink unicorns would fly around on rainbow wings over hills made of chocolate and rivers of honey.

  I pushed away from the table. I was driving myself crazy. This brooding wasn’t me.

  The door creaked. Probably Andrea and Derek. Good; if I sat here with my own thoughts for another minute, I’d need a straitjacket.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE MOMENT I STEPPED DOWNSTAIRS, ANDREA
grabbed me. A pink flush painted her cheeks. She seemed agitated. Agitated wasn’t good.

  “We need to talk. Derek, you, too.”

  Everybody needed to talk to me. I was getting sick of talking. “Before we do that, I’ve got something to show you.”

  I led her to the loup cage. The volhv sat upright, tied to the chair. His eyes were closed. He looked passed out.

  Andrea’s eyes widened. “Who is that?”

  “That’s a volhv.”

  The volhv’s eyelashes trembled. Wakey, wakey.

  “The one who kidnapped Kamen?”

  “No. The one who kidnapped Kamen was an elder volhv. This one is more like middle management, powerful but not up there yet.”

  Andrea arched her eyebrows. “ Aha. How did he get all beat up?”

  “He hassled me about meeting with Evdokia.”

  “Were you in a bad mood or something?”

  You have no idea. “Yeah. You might say that.”

  Andrea pursed her lips. “Why does he look like a hidalgo pirate? I thought Russians were blond.”

  “And we all carry a bottle of vodka in our pocket and wear a fur hat year-round.” The volhv opened his black eyes. His gaze snagged on Andrea. He blinked and stared, stunned.

  Oh boy.

  “Pretending to be passed out,” I said.

  “Just resting my eyes.” He was still looking at Andrea. “It’s nice in here. Peaceful.” A slow smile bent the volhv’s lips. “Although if you would like me to model a fur hat for you instead, we could come to an understanding.”

  Andrea barked a short derisive laugh and left the room.

  “Does she work here with you?” the volhv asked.

  “You—never mind,” I told him, went out, and locked the door behind me for good measure.

  Andrea crossed her arms. “The nerve. Did you see those eyes. Pow!”

  Yeah, pow. “You wanted to tell me something?”

  “Yes. Derek, too. Kitchen?”

  “Yeah.”

  The three of us landed at the kitchen table. Ascanio sauntered in and leaned against the wall.