Magic Binds Read online

  I jumped out of the car and ducked behind the hood as chunks of sharp ice the size of my fist peppered the vehicle. Mages. Crap.

  “Roman!” I yelled.

  “I’ve got it.”

  Roman straightened, ignoring the ice, and slammed the butt of his staff on the bridge steps, his eyes glowing. The staff’s wooden top flowed, turning into a monstrous bird head. The wooden beak gaped open and the staff screamed. Darkness shot out from under his feet, spiraling around him and breaking into a thousand crows. The murder surged around the bridge, like a horizontal tornado, blocking the ice.

  I sprinted across the bridge toward the kids.

  In the circle Derek was shaking Julie, but her eyes were still closed. He should’ve been able to exit the ward, but she must’ve set it closed both ways. They were trapped in it.

  Power words were out of the question. Wasting one on individual fighters wasn’t worth the risk. The only two words that would affect every single one of the fighters would be ahissa, flee, or osanda, kneel, but both of these would hit Julie’s ward and Curran. I didn’t know how her blood ward would react to power words. Besides I didn’t want them to kneel or flee. I wanted to murder every one of them.

  Curran reached the twin sahanu. The male twin grinned. His mouth gaped, wider and wider. Fangs sprouted from his gums. His clothes tore, and an enormous werehyena landed on the bridge. He wasn’t a bouda. He was too large, almost as large as Curran, and his fur was thick and striped with short smudges of dark brown.

  Crocuta crocuta spelaea. Crap. Sienna was never wrong.

  I was almost to Julie and Derek.

  The female twin cackled and the pack of hyenas at her feet cackled back. The female sahanu jerked the last collar open and dropped the tangle of chains.

  “See us, Sharrim!” The female sahanu shrieked. Her skin tore. Fur spilled out. The hyenas at her feet barked and cackled. “Know us! Bless us with your blood when we bathe in it!”

  My father couldn’t be allowed to educate any more assassins. That creepy pseudo-religious bullshit they were spouting had to end.

  The female sahanu snarled. The hyena pack tore across the bridge toward me.

  Curran and the male werehyena collided. The werehyena struck at his neck. Curran avoided the blow and clawed at the male werehyena’s chest. The female raked her claws across his gray back. He snarled. They had no idea what Curran was capable of when he was seriously pissed off. They were about to find out.

  An arrow clattered by my feet. The archers had woken up and realized they had a shot at me.

  The first hyena lunged at me. I dodged the massive jaws and opened the side of its neck with my blade. The beast charged me and I kicked it. The hyena stumbled.

  In half a second the whole pack would be on me.

  I thrust my hand into the ward and detonated it. It shattered, like a pane of translucent red glass, the pieces falling down and melting into nothing.

  Julie’s eyes snapped open. She cried out as the magic backlash hit her.

  The leading hyena bit my thigh, sinking her teeth into me. Like being clamped by a bear trap. I stabbed straight down, severing the beast’s spine.

  The second hyena leapt at me. A werewolf collided with her in midair, knocking her to the side. The hyena crashed down, its neck broken.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman lunging at me from the left, swinging an axe. She fell, cut down by a lightning-fast katana strike.

  “Sharrim!” Adora smiled at me.

  Derek howled. The two remaining hyenas turned toward him.

  Eleven targets between me and Curran. I dipped my hand into the blood running down my thigh and forced it into shape. A blood dagger formed in my left hand. I started forward.

  Across the bridge the two monstrosities tore into Curran. Bones crunched. The female werehyena’s left arm hung limp. A chunk of the male werehyena’s right side was missing, the wound red and raw. Blood drenched Curran’s fur. I couldn’t tell who was winning, but I knew who would be left standing. He would kill them both. If I got there in time, he would leave some for me.

  Two women flanked me, each with a sword. Saber on my left, Katana on my right. To the left a man with a large mace rushed Adora.

  Saber and Katana split, circling me. If I turned toward one, my back would be to the other.

  Saber brandished her sword. It was an older-style blade, larger and heavier than modern variants.

  Katana watched me like a hawk, her body in seigan kamae: right foot forward with most of the weight on the leading leg; sword directly in front, held with a slight bend to the elbows; the kissaki, the point of the katana, aimed at my eyes. A harmonious balance of both attack and defense.

  Saber would fence. Katana would rely on a single strike at the right moment. One accurate cut. Such was the way of the samurai. Their best strategy would be for Saber to engage, with Katana waiting for an opening.

  I didn’t have time for them to decide when to attack me. I turned ever so slightly toward Katana, shifting my weight to my right leg.

  The saber fighter thrust with dizzying speed. Katana struck, a beautiful diagonal blow. A moment stretched into eternity. I shied back, blocking the katana and letting the saber slide a hair from my stomach, drove my blood dagger into Saber’s throat, jerked it out, pushed Katana back, and thrust the blood blade into her stomach.

  Time snapped back to its normal speed, an elastic band let loose. The two women fell. I knelt, driving the two blades into their bodies, and kept walking. Nine.

  The crows vanished. At the other end of the bridge a female mage slumped over, exhausted. I glanced back. Roman leaned on his staff, breathing like he’d run a marathon.

  A man lunged at me. I sidestepped his strike and turned, ramming my elbow into his chest. He stumbled back and I sliced his neck open. Eight.

  A woman, two swords, fast. I blocked one slash, let the other graze me, and kicked her in the head. She fell and I sank Sarrat between her ribs, ripping up her lungs and heart. Seven.

  Curran roared. The male werehyena clamped his side. The female tore at his arm, locked around her throat. The sound of bones crunching—his ribs broke under the pressure of hyena teeth.

  A man, a mace, a head rolling on the bridge. Adora. Six.

  A woman, lance, too slow. I opened her stomach from side to side and stabbed her when she wouldn’t stay down. Five.

  An arrow sliced into my left shoulder. Pain. Nothing major. The bowman notched another and fell as Derek shattered his skull. Four.

  Curran roared. Blood ran down his face—one of them had gotten him right over the muzzle. The two hyenas circled him, slow. Fighting him tired you out.

  Curran limped, favoring his left leg. I knew that move. It was called “come and get it.” He’d caught me with it three times, twice with a limp and once with a supposedly injured shoulder. He was inviting a direct attack.

  The hyenas closed in, sensing a sure kill.

  “For you, Sharrim!” Adora dropped her sword and sprinted forward.

  “No!”

  I ran after her.

  She swiped the tangle of chains that had been used to hold the hyenas, looped one chain around her wrists, and leapt, swinging it out. The chain caught the female werehyena’s neck. The female twin stumbled back. Adora landed on the short wall of the bridge, her back to the eighty-foot drop.

  A power word punched the werehyena. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Adora smiled at me and jumped over the edge, taking the female werehyena with her.

  Oh God.

  The chain tangle slid. I dropped Sarrat and grabbed it. The chain jerked, nearly ripping my arms out of the sockets. Below me Adora dangled over an eighty-foot drop, her right wrist still caught in the chain’s loop. The werehyena’s body lay broken below.

  “Traitor!” an inhuman voice howled behind me

&n
bsp; “Let me die!” Adora tried to rip the chain off her wrist. “Sharrim, let me serve in death. Please!”

  Fire sliced my back. Someone had tried to slash through my spine. I molded the blood gushing from the cut, forming it into a narrow strip of blood armor, shielding my vertebrae.

  If I dropped the chain, there would be no questions. I could tell Curran whatever I wanted. Derek wouldn’t talk about Adora, and neither would Julie. Curran wouldn’t leave me. I wouldn’t have to hide Adora, I wouldn’t have to be responsible for her, and I wouldn’t have to break her world and tell her I didn’t have the keys to heaven.

  Drop her, the magic insisted. Drop her. It’s the smart thing to do. The right thing to do.

  The pressure ground against me, as if my soul had split in two. One part wanted power, the other knew what was right, both of them wanted Curran, and I was torn in the middle.

  Drop her and everything will be okay. It’s what she wants.

  Drop her.

  DROP HER.

  . . .

  No.

  Something snapped inside me, like pieces sliding into place. I gripped that voice inside of me and choked it into silence. “Do not let go!” I barked. “That’s an order.”

  “Let me go.” She was weeping. “I’ll go to heaven. I’ll serve you forever in the afterlife.”

  “I’m not a god. There is no fucking afterlife heaven where you can serve me. My father made it up. Adora, don’t let go.”

  A furry arm gripped the chain below mine and flexed. The enormous weight vanished. Curran pulled the chain up, hand over hand, his face all lion, his eyes burning.

  Around us, bodies littered the bridge, the male werehyena’s head lying by his body, his neck a shredded stump where Curran’s teeth had torn flesh and cracked bone. Derek’s sides and legs were drenched in blood. Julie lay slumped in a heap, exhausted. Roman’s face was bloodless.

  Curran pulled a weeping Adora onto the bridge and pulled the chain off her.

  She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, Sharrim. I’m so sorry.”

  I saw it in his eyes. This was one straw too many.

  “Get the kids into the car,” he said.

  “I can . . .”

  The expression on his face stopped me cold.

  “Get into the car.”

  I packed Adora into the Jeep. Curran picked up Julie and carried her in.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m tired,” she whispered. “So tired.”

  Roman picked himself up and got into the car. Derek limped his way to the Jeep. Curran held the front passenger door open for him. The werewolf crawled into the vehicle. Curran shut the door.

  “Go home.”

  “Curran . . .”

  “Go home,” he repeated, his face iced over.

  I started the engine, backed the Jeep up, and turned it around. In the rearview mirror the bridge behind me was empty.

  “Is he coming back?” Julie whispered.

  “Of course he’s coming back,” I told her. I had no doubt about it. Curran wouldn’t leave me, especially not without talking to me first. “He just needs to cool down.”

  “I’m sorry,” Adora whispered.

  “It’s okay,” I told Adora. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault.”

  It was mine.

  • • •

  I TOOK EVERYONE home. That was all I could do.

  The kids had been moving Adora to my old apartment when they were jumped. Derek wanted to fight, but Julie had made a double blood ward to keep him in. Making one took a wallop of power. Making two wiped her out, but her wards had held out against everything Roland’s people were able to throw at them. The werehyena sahanu had run their mouths. Julie was the intended target. They had tracked her to our neighborhood but saw too many of Mahon’s bears. I would have to thank him. So rather than go in, they left a scout and caught up with her, Adora, and Derek on the bridge.

  I had taken Saiman back and ripped Adora away from my father. He retaliated by trying to take Julie away from me. There was no going back after this.

  Erra wanted a full report. I told her Julie would explain. I didn’t feel like talking.

  Derek’s injuries were minor. He bled a lot, but healed quickly. Mine weren’t much either. I’d called Nellie and promised her the sun and the sky if she came to patch everyone up. She did. She also issued Adora and me a sedative. I didn’t take mine.

  Nellie left. I’d called in some cavalry and now I sat on the porch, waiting.

  Four people emerged from the night and came onto the porch. I’d called the bears Mahon assigned to guard our street. Raoul, short but so broad-shouldered that he looked almost square, stopped by me. “No worries. We’ll sit on them for the night.”

  “Thanks. If anything nasty comes up, the wards around the house will hold it off.”

  “If anything nasty comes up, we’ll break it.” Lilian patted my hand.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  I went to the stables and got my giant donkey. Cuddles must’ve sensed that now wasn’t the time for her “special” behavior, so she gave me no trouble. I saddled her and left.

  Around me, the city lay steeped in magic. I breathed the night in and tasted the magic on my tongue. We were oddly at peace, the magic and I.

  The lights of the feylanterns blinked in the distant windows, enchanted blue sparks fighting against the darkness. I kept riding. I didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t want to stay in our house. It was our house together. Every memory and everything in it was something we’d made together. It felt like I’d ruined it.

  I needed time by myself to think and sort this out. I couldn’t do it at our house, in our bedroom or on our porch. I needed space. Curran would be back. He would stand by me no matter what, and I would stand by him. I didn’t want to be me right this second. If I could’ve crawled out of my skin, I would’ve.

  I let Cuddles meander her way through the streets until I raised my head and saw we were in front of my old apartment building. I stared at it. When I worked for the Order I would be coming back exactly like this, except riding Marigold. I’d have to punch my aunt for killing my mule. Too bad she wouldn’t feel it. I must’ve unconsciously given Cuddles some cues. Where to turn, which way to go . . .

  Just as well. I put Cuddles into the apartment’s stables, went upstairs, and unlocked the door. I hadn’t had a chance to set any wards after Curran had it remodeled post-my-aunt-wrecking-it, but at least we had put a new door on it. I didn’t have the best luck with doors.

  I went inside, pushed the door shut, and sat at my kitchen table.

  This used to be Greg’s apartment, and then it was mine. There were memories here too, but a lot of them were mine alone.

  I sat at the kitchen table and tried not to think. I felt too bruised inside. Numb.

  This is where it all started. When I came to Atlanta to investigate Greg’s death and eventually ended up in this apartment. Life was so much easier back then, when I was a simple merc. Even working for the Order wasn’t too bad. The job wasn’t always straightforward, but I helped people more than I hurt them.

  Fuck it.

  I got up and went into the living room. It was a one-bedroom apartment and even after Greg’s death, the bedroom belonged to him and his memories. It was his space. When I lived here, I always slept on the couch in the living room, which was why Curran had put a bed here. And of course, it was almost four feet high, and you needed a ladder to crawl onto it.

  I would give almost anything for him to be on that bed right now making fun of me.

  I opened the windows, unlocked the bars, and let the night in. Why the hell not. It wasn’t like anyone would come to bother me anyway. I took off the leather harness with Sarrat in it and put it on the night table. I pulled o
ff my boots and sat on the bed. I kept thinking my father would wreck my life, but no, turned out it was all me.

  A hand gripped the windowsill.

  Now I was seeing things.

  Curran vaulted into the room, human and dressed. He came over and sat next to me.

  “Stopped by the house?”

  “I tailed you to make sure you got there in one piece. Talked to the kids after you left. Thought you would be at Cutting Edge, but you weren’t. This was the next place. Would’ve gone to the Savannah house after that.”

  “Trained detective.”

  “That’s right.”

  We sat side by side. Outside the window the stars winked at us.

  “I leave to clear my head and you run away from the house,” he said.

  “I didn’t run away.” Yep, I totally did.

  We sat quietly for a few more moments.

  “I wanted to tell you about Adora.”

  “I understand why you might want to hold things back. We both deal with fucked-up shit and we try to shield each other. I don’t like it, but I get it, because I’ve done it before and I can’t swear I won’t do it again. But I don’t understand why you hid her. Derek and Julie tried to explain it to me, but neither of them made sense. Did you think I wouldn’t listen to you? I’ve always been cool. I might not like things that you did, but I always listen, Kate. What made you think I would lose it?”

  I sighed. “I hid her, because I would have to explain why I didn’t kill her.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because her existence made me so mad, my hands shook. I wasn’t mad because what was done to her was wrong. I was mad because my father dared to send her into my territory to take what was mine. I wanted to hurt him. If I’d had a knife and could’ve reached him in that moment, I would’ve sliced all the flesh off his bones. You have no idea how much I wanted to do it. I took her away from my father, because I wanted to send a big ‘Fuck You’ his way. Her life at that point didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care that she was a person. She was a thing. She was my father’s toy and I took her away so I could taunt him with her. I almost made her into a slave. I only stopped because some switch flipped in my brain and I realized you wouldn’t like it. Enslaving her goes against everything I stand for. That’s not me. That’s not who I am. I should’ve stopped because of that. I didn’t want to explain it to you. I didn’t want you to know this about me.”