Magic Rises (4 page)

“He’s a kind and loving father.” I hopped on the parapet. I could write a book on bad fathers, but Desandra would probably give me a run for my money.

A corner of Curran’s mouth rose in contempt. “He isn’t her father. He’s her pimp. He got into some sort of dispute with the Belve Ravennati during the last Iberian Summit and they pissed him off, so he ordered Desandra to come back home again. Desandra had a fit. Her current husband and her ex-husband were both at the summit, so she slept with both of them. Now she’s carrying twins, and the amniotic tests are showing DNA from both men.”

“How does that work, exactly?”

“That’s what I said.” He grimaced. “I had to ask Doolittle. There is a term for it, hang on . . .” He pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans and read it. “
Heteropaternal superfecundation.
Apparently, it means twins from different fathers. I’ve never heard of it, but Doolittle says it’s a real thing and it happens with shapeshifters more often than with normal humans. From what he says, there are identical twins and then there are fraternal twins. Fraternal twins occur when two eggs inside a mother are fertilized at once. The super-whatever happens when they are fertilized by different fathers.”

“I still fail to see how any of this epic mess is our problem.”

Curran grimaced. “Jarek controls a large chunk of the Carpathians. He was trying to make marrying Desandra more attractive, so he set up Desandra’s firstborn to inherit a profitable mountain pass. Apparently during the fight at the summit, Jarek told Desandra’s current husband that if she got pregnant, he would rather kill her and not have any grandchildren before he would let Belve Ravennati get their hands on the pass.”

Killing a woman to murder the child in her womb. Now that sounded eerily familiar. “Would he?”

Curran growled under his breath. “It’s complicated. Jarek always had a big mouth, and he did kill one of his sons during a challenge. But the Jarek I remember was also hell-bent on making himself a dynasty. Now he’s supposedly making public threats and considering killing his daughter, who is his only chance at getting that dynasty going. He’s got no kids left—Desandra is it. Something else must be going on. But anyway, Desandra must’ve believed it, because when she realized she was pregnant, she freaked the hell out. She hid her pregnancy until the three packs were together again and then sprang it on them in public. Jarek tried to attack her right there and almost started a war, because the other two packs piled in to stop him.”

“Sure. They want the pass.” A dead Desandra couldn’t give birth.

“Exactly. In the end, they found some sort of neutral guy who invited Desandra to his place away from everybody. She stayed there for most of her pregnancy, but she’s due in two months and the three packs are coming there to witness the birth. Depending on which child is born first, either pack could claim the inheritance. The Carpathian Mountains are right between the Volkodavi and Belve Ravennati territories, so they both desperately want it. Neither of the two fathers trusts the other, and they trust Jarek even less. They want someone strong to guard her and her children and serve as an impartial witness to the birth until the inheritance is settled. The packs invited me to be that somebody.”

The pieces clicked in my head. “They’re paying you with the panacea.” That was where he got it.

Curran nodded. “Ten drums. It would last us for ten months to a year.”

We could save Maddie. We could save Jennifer’s unborn baby. If I got pregnant with Curran’s child . . . I pushed that thought firmly out of my mind. I couldn’t bring any babies into this world. Not while my father was still in it. But if I did . . . “We have to go.”

Curran looked like he bit into a rotten apple. “Yes, we do.”

A year of no children going loup. Maddie’s horrible half-animal face flashed before me. The way Meredith had looked at her, her eyes haunted, her face withdrawn with pain, gave me all of the motivation I needed. A few short months ago I had been in the exact same place she was, locked in the terrified haze where all you want to do is wake up and see your kid be okay. You want it so much, so desperately that you will do anything, anything at all for some magic cure, for the smallest chance. You want the nightmare to end, but it never does. How do you put a price on avoiding that?

Curran studied the pieces of the smoker. “The spiel is that since I’m far away, I’ll be fair and neutral. None of their neighbors have volunteered for the job.”

“They already have her in a neutral location,” I thought out loud. “It doesn’t make sense that they couldn’t find someone strong enough close by to keep the three packs in line. This is like going to L.A. to hire a bodyguard for a job in Atlanta.”

“Mm-hm. Their story doesn’t quite add up. Desandra is still alive, which means one of two things: Jarek doesn’t really want to kill her, which means they don’t need me, or they’ve got her in a fortress where she is completely secure and he can’t get to her, in which case, again, they don’t need me.”

“Did you ask them about it?”

“They’re claiming that since all three packs will be in the place at the same time, only I am strong enough to keep them from turning the place into a slaughterhouse.”

I liked this less and less. They could only give us a flimsy reason, but they wanted Curran specifically and dangled panacea in front of our noses. They knew he wouldn’t turn it down. “It’s a trap.”

“Oh, I know it’s a trap.” Curran bared his teeth. “They’ve baited it with something they know I can’t refuse and let the Pack know about it. I met the envoys yesterday, just me and Jim alone. When I came back from the meeting, the rats and the jackals had already left messages asking if they could assist me in any way.”

“Clever.” The shapeshifters gossiped worse than old ladies at a church picnic. Right now rumors about the ten drums of panacea were spreading through the Pack like wildfire. If Curran balked at going, every parent with a child under twenty would storm the Keep and riot.

The Pack had very little contact with European shapeshifters. There were some tentative trade agreements, but the only thing Curran was really interested in was the panacea, and the European packs weren’t willing to sell or share.

We looked at each other.

“Have you done something to attract their attention?” I asked. “Why us? Why now?”

He shook his head, his voice tinted with a growl. “I’ve done nothing and I don’t know.”

“What could they possibly want from us?”

“I don’t know. I’ll find out one way or another.”

“What did Jim say?”

“He doesn’t know either. He’s looking into it.”

Jim Shrapshire was as devious as you could get. As the Pack’s chief of security, he hoarded information like gold. If he didn’t know what was going on, either it didn’t matter or it was really bad. My money was on really bad.

“When do we need to be there?”

“As soon as we can. She’s staying in a small town on the coast of the Black Sea. If we take a ship from Savannah across the Atlantic, we’re looking at about three weeks or more of travel, provided nothing happens.”

We’d need to leave fast. The biggest hurdle would be finding a ship. Passages across the Atlantic didn’t always work out. The Black Sea wasn’t easy to cross either. The ancient Greeks called it Pontos Axenos, the Hostile Sea. In our day and age, Greek myths were lifesaving required reading, and I’d read enough of them to know that the Black Sea wasn’t a fun place.

“Where on the Black Sea?”

“Georgia.”

Colchis. Bodyguard detail in the land of the Golden Fleece, dragons, and witches, where the Argonauts had sailed and nearly died. “We should get the terms in writing.”

“Kate, do you think I’d walk out of that meeting without a contract?” He picked up a stack of papers pinned to the roof by the box and passed it to me. I scanned it. The three clans collectively hired us to protect Desandra from all threats and act in her best interests until the birth of her children and for three days after.

“That ‘acting in her best interest’ is a really broad clause,” I thought out loud.

“Mm-hm. I’ve wondered about that. Somebody must’ve insisted on putting that in.”

“It almost sounds like she isn’t in her right mind and they’re worried she’ll harm herself.” I realized Curran was looking at me. “Yes?”

“The invitation is for the Beast Lord and the Consort. I understand if you choose not to go.”

I just looked at him. Really? He meant everything to me. If I had to die so he could live, I would put my life on the line in an instant, and he would do the same for me. “I’m sorry, run that by me again?”

“We’ll have to cross the ocean in the middle of hurricane season, go to a foreign country filled with hostile shapeshifters, and babysit a pregnant woman, while everyone plots and waits for an opportunity to stab us in the back.”

I shrugged. “Well, it sounds bad if you put it that way . . .”

“Kate,” he growled.

“Yes?”

“I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to go. I have to, but you can stay if you want.”

Ha-ha. “I thought we were a team.”

“We are.”

“You’re sending some confusing signals.”

Curran growled deep in his throat.

“That’s impressive but not really informative, Your Furriness.”

“This is going to suck,” Curran said. “It will suck much less if you come with me. You want me to level, here it is: I need you. I need you because I love you. Three months without you will be hell. But even if we weren’t together, I would still need you. You’re a good fighter, you’ve worked as a bodyguard, and you know magic. We may not have many magic users, but we don’t know if those packs do, and if they hit us with magic, we have no way to counter.” He spread his arms. “But I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m not going to ask you to come with me. That would be like stepping in front of a moving train and saying, ‘Hey, honey, come stand next to me.’”

I hopped off the wall and stood next to him. “Anytime.”

He just looked at me.

“I’ve never killed a train before. It might be fun to try.”

“Are you sure?”

“One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me.”

“I remember,” he said.

“That’s when I realized you loved me,” I said. “I was in the cage and I heard you roar.”

He chuckled. The tension in his shoulders eased. He hugged me and I kissed him. He tasted like Curran—male, healthy, and mine—and I would know that taste anywhere.

“I’m coming with you, Your Foolishness. You can’t get rid of me.”

“Thank you.”

Besides, it would be good to get out of Atlanta. And away from Hugh d’Ambray—my father’s warlord.

My family background is complicated. If my real father discovered I was still breathing, he would move heaven and earth to choke the life out of my body. For twenty-six years I had managed to hide in plain sight. But then my path had crossed with Hugh d’Ambray’s, and a couple of months ago he’d figured out who I probably was. I didn’t think he was one hundred percent sure, but he had to have strong suspicions. Sooner or later, Hugh d’Ambray would come knocking at my door, and I wasn’t ready. My body had healed and I was learning how to mold my blood into weapons and armor, which was one of my father’s greatest powers, but I needed more practice.

The trip would buy me some time, and every day I’d grow stronger.
Good luck looking for me across the ocean, Hugh.

Curran stepped closer. I leaned against him. Below us the forest stretched into the distance, and beyond it to the right, the twisted ruins of Atlanta darkened the horizon.

The anxiety swelled in me and crested. The words came out on their own. “If we have children, how likely are they to go loup?”

“Less likely than most,” Curran said. “I’m a First, and we don’t go crazy as often.”

Firsts were a different breed from other shapeshifters. They were stronger and faster and had greater control of changing shape. But they were still subject to Lyc-V and the horror of loupism. “Is it possible?”

“Yes.”

I could feel the anxiety building inside me, like I was a windup toy being cranked up. “What are the chances?”

He sighed. “I don’t know, Kate. Nobody in my family went loup as far as I know, but I was too young to ask about things like this. I just know it’s less likely. We’ll get the panacea, baby. I promise you that we will get it.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to have children?”

I tried to wrap my mind around the idea of having Curran’s children. It wasn’t even a thought; it was a distant hazy idea, and looking at it too closely seemed too complicated right now. I tried to imagine myself pregnant and couldn’t. What if my father found me and killed my kids? What if they went loup?

Curran had the strangest look on his face. I realized I was hugging myself.

Hey, baby, do you want to have my children? Here, let me curl into a fetal ball in response.
Ugh. I was a moron.

“Maybe. Eventually. When things settle down. Do you want to have children?”

He put his arm around me. “Sure. Later on. I’m in no rush.”

Wind bathed us, fresh and carrying a promise of a new day. As we stood together, the sun crested the forest, a narrow golden sliver so bright, it was painful to see.

We would be together and we would get panacea for Maddie. That was all that mattered for now.

CHAPTER 3

When Curran and I got down from the roof in search of breakfast, Barabas ambushed us with stacks of paper.

“What is this?” I pondered the two-inch stack.

“This is everything you have to do before you can leave for the Black Sea.” He pointed to the nearest conference room. A breakfast had been laid out. Plates with scrambled eggs, heaps of bacon, piles of sausage, and mountains of fried meat shared space with pitchers of coffee and towers of pancakes. The smell swirled around me. Suddenly I was ravenous.

“Does the whole Keep know we’re leaving?” Curran asked.

“I’m sure a few people are still asleep, but everyone else does, yes.” Barabas placed a stack on the table and held the chair out for me. “For you.”

“I’m hungry and I don’t have time for this.”

Barabas’s eyes held no mercy. “Make time, Alpha. You have two hands. You can eat and sign simultaneously.”

Curran grinned.

“Enjoying my suffering?” I asked.

“I find it hilarious that you’ll run into a gunfight with nothing but your sword, but paperwork makes you panic.”

Barabas put a thicker stack in front of him. “This is yours, m’lord.”

Curran swore.

The shapeshifters enjoyed high metabolisms, which helped them blast through nutrients and save up energy for changing shape. But that same metabolism made them gorge themselves. Watching Curran go through food was a frightening experience. He didn’t rush or devour his food with his hands. He just ate a very large amount of it. I thought I’d get used to it with time, but when he went in for his third heaping plate, I blinked. He must’ve skipped dinner last night.

The door to the conference room opened and Jim strode in, like an impending storm. Six feet tall, with dark, smooth skin and a gaze that made you want to back away and look for the nearest exit, Jim served as the Pack’s chief of security. He and I knew each other from way back, when we both worked for the Mercenary Guild and we occasionally teamed up. I had needed the money and Jim couldn’t stomach working with anyone else.

Jim leaned on the table. “I’m going.”

“No,” Curran said. “I need you here. You have to run the Pack while we’re gone.”

“Make Mahon do it.”

Mahon Delany, an alpha of Clan Heavy, served as the Pack’s executioner. He’d raised Curran after Curran’s family was murdered, and he was probably the most respected among the fourteen alphas of the Pack. He was not universally loved, however.

“The jackals would riot and you know it,” Curran said. “You can hold the clans together. Mahon can’t. He’s old-fashioned and ham-fisted, and if I put him in charge, we’d come back to a civil war.”

“And who’s going to watch your ass while you’re over there? It’s not just about what they
are
doing, it’s thinking about what they could do and how they could do it. Who’ll do that for you?”

“Not you,” Curran said. “I need you here.”

Jim turned to me. “Kate?”

If he thought I was getting in the middle of that, he was crazy. “Oh, look at all this paperwork I have. Can’t talk now, very busy.”

Jim landed in the chair, looking like he wanted to strangle someone.

Barabas put another piece of paper in front of me. Oy.

“You should let Kate handle it,” Jim said. “You’ve never done a large-scale bodyguard detail. She has more experience and she’s decent at it.”

I pointed a piece of bacon at him. “I’m not just decent. I’m damn good and you know it.”

“We’ve talked it over,” Curran said. “She guards Desandra, I snarl and run interference with the packs, and when she tells me to push, I push. We’ve got this, Jim.”

“Or at least they think they do.” Barabas took the paper I’d just signed and blew on the ink.

“Take Barabas,” Jim said suddenly. “If you won’t take me, take Barabas. He’s devious, paranoid, and obsessive. He’ll be perfect.”

Curran looked at me. I looked at Barabas. He bared even, sharp teeth. “Well, after that recommendation, how can I say no?”

“Who do you want for support?” I asked.

“George,” Barabas said.

George’s real name was Georgetta and she threatened to murder people who dared to actually use it. She was Mahon’s daughter, and she served as the Pack’s clerk of court.

“She knows the laws,” Barabas said. “And she’s the exact opposite of high-strung.”

“If you take George, Mahon will want to go,” Jim said.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Curran said. “Mahon is a hell of a fighter, and it will get him out of your hair. Besides, he’s a bear. The Carpathians will respect that.”

“Since I’m going,” Barabas said. “Jezebel will also want to go.”

“No.” Jezebel, my other bouda nanny, had a hell of a temper.

“May I ask why?”

“Did you have an argument with Ethan on Wednesday?”

Barabas drew himself back. Ethan was his guy and their relationship had started out great but now was going off the rails fast. “It wasn’t an argument. It was a heated discussion.”

“Do you know how I found out about it?”

“I’m sure you will tell me.”

“I saw Jezebel marching off with a determined look on her face, and I had to spend the next half an hour explaining to her that breaking Ethan’s legs would not help your relationship. She reacts with overwhelming force to any insult. We’re going to a place where we’ll be outnumbered, insulted, and constantly provoked. One wrong punch from her and we’re done.”

“Point taken,” Barabas said. “I’ll break it to her gently.”

“How about Keira?” Jim said.

Curran raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s Keira?” I asked.

“My sister,” Jim said.

“You have a sister?” I knew that Jim had a family. I’d just never met or seen any of them.

“He has three,” Curran said.

“How come I never met her?”

“You have,” Jim said. “You just don’t remember because I didn’t tell you who she was.”

“Oh, so your family is only on a need-to-know basis, huh?”

He gave me a hard stare. “That’s right.”

When a joke flies past a sulking werejaguar, does it make a sound? “Are you sure you want to send your sister off across the ocean with us? Since I don’t even rank high enough to meet her and all that.”

“Keira is an Army vet,” Jim said. “She’s good and she won’t turn on you.”

I tried to picture a female version of Jim and got Jim in a dress instead. The image was disturbing.

“Did you at least ask her?” Curran asked.

“I know she’ll go.”

“Well, then she’s in unless she says no.”

I’d signed six things and my stack wasn’t getting any smaller. It was like the paperwork was breeding while I worked.

“Where are you going to get a ship?” Jim asked.

“We can use a commercial freighter and catch a ride,” Curran said.

“Won’t work,” Jim said. “Crossing the Atlantic is a bitch. You can get there in three weeks or so, but you may have to get out in a hurry, with ten drums of the panacea, and there is no guarantee the freighter will come back for another trip in time. You’ll need to hire a ship and crew, and they will have to sit in port for about a month waiting for you.”

“Then let’s hire one,” Curran said. “Or buy one. I don’t care.”

“I don’t know if we can. It’s not just a question of money. It’s getting an experienced captain and crew on short notice.” Jim drummed his fingers on the table and rose. “I need to get on that.”

A young man walked up and stopped in the doorway. He moved with complete silence, like a ghost. Still lean, but on the way to filling out, he had short brown hair and the kind of face that made you stop in your tracks. Not that long ago, people stopped and stared because he was beautiful. Now they stopped because they weren’t sure what a man with a face like that would do next.

Back when he was pretty, Jim had used him for covert work. People had discounted Derek Gaunt as a boy toy, but he missed nothing. He didn’t exactly have a happy childhood. It made him ruthless, hard, and disciplined, and he dedicated himself to the task completely.

Then bad things happened and Derek’s face paid the price. His good bone structure was still there, but trauma had thickened his clean lines and stripped any remnants of softness from his features. His brown eyes had turned hard and distant, and when he decided to be unfriendly, they went completely flat. I’d seen that kind of stare from veteran pit fighters. It said you weren’t a human being. You were an object to be removed.

The stare worried me. Derek was a friend. Even if the entire Pack turned on me, he would stay in my corner. But the humor, the spark that used to make Derek who he was, was growing dimmer and dimmer. If it disappeared, Derek would be in a bad place. I’d been there and it was hard to claw your way out of that hole.

Curran pretended not to see him. Derek didn’t say anything. He simply stood.

“Yes,” Curran said without turning.

Derek nodded and walked away without a word. Now we had five: Barabas, George, Mahon, Derek, and tentatively Keira. The contract had specified that the Carpathians expected us to bring no more than fifteen people. Curran and I settled on ten, excluding ourselves. It was a nice number and it showed that we weren’t afraid.

Jim was sitting there with that slightly glazed-over look in his eyes that usually meant that three fourths of his brain was engaged somewhere else.

“You okay?” I asked him.

He looked at me. “Where the hell am I going to find a ship . . . ?”

A guard approached the door.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Aunt B is here to speak with the Consort.”

Meeting with the alpha of Clan Bouda was like sticking your hand into a garbage disposal. The switch could be flicked on at any second.

Curran got up. “I’ve got to go.”

“Coward,” I told him.

He grinned at me. “Later, baby. Come on, Jim, you have to go, too.”

They took off down the hallway.

I looked at Barabas. “There is only one exit. How do they plan to get by her?”

“They’ll hide in the guard room until she comes through. Shall I show Aunt B in?” Barabas asked.

“There is no escape, is there?”

“No.”

I sighed. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

The alpha of Clan Bouda wore a cheery white sundress with an overlapping pattern of large red poppies. Her hair was rolled into a loose, carefree bun. A pair of sunglasses perched above her forehead. If you added a straw hat and a picnic basket, she would be all set.

Aunt B was in her early fifties, but the kind of fifties to which most women would aspire. Her skin was smooth, her makeup understated but expert, her figure generous but still athletic. Her lips smiled often, and her voice was all sweetness and cookies, but when she really looked at you, the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, because you realized that she was smart, ruthless, and dangerous as hell. She ruled the bouda clan, and anybody able to hold more than three dozen werehyenas in check should never be taken lightly. I’d seen her in action. Not many things gave me the creeps, but she managed. For now Aunt B was in my corner, but I had no delusions. Ours was a conditional kind of friendship: if I stopped being useful to her and hers, she’d forget my name.

Behind her, Andrea Nash, my best friend and the current beta female of Clan Bouda, walked into the room. Short, blond, and lethal, Andrea was engaged to Aunt B’s son, Raphael. People really liked Andrea. She seemed nice and approachable. She also could shoot the dots off dominoes from great distances and turned into a monster with claws the size of my pinkies.

I smiled at Aunt B and pointed at the table. “Please, join me.”

For shapeshifters, an offering of food held a certain significance. It could be a declaration of romantic interest, or it could be a confirmation of alpha status. Those who offered food declared themselves responsible for those who took it. Despite the fact that Aunt B had clued me in on the custom before I became the Consort, she had tried to feed me. Since I stood higher than Aunt B on the food chain, the tables had turned.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Aunt B seated herself on my right. Andrea took position behind her, as beta.

I glanced at her. “Really?”

Andrea sighed. “Oh fine, just don’t tell anybody.” She dropped into the chair next to me. I passed her a plate.

“What brings you up all these stairs?”

“I’m concerned for your well-being.” Aunt B slid a piece of bacon into a pancake, folded it, and bit off a small piece. “And about the future of my clan, naturally.”

Naturally. “Is it about the trip to the Black Sea?”

“Of course. Did Curran mention the Desandra incident?”

Here we go. “Yes.”

“Did he also happen to mention that I was the one who had escorted that poor child back to her father?”

Oh boy. “No.”

“How forgetful of him.” Aunt B took another bite of the pancake. “Both my late husband and I had gone on that trip. His family was from the Iberian Peninsula. Half of our clan comes from Africa and the other half from Iberia, but I digress. Bottom line, I was there. I’ve met Jarek Kral, Desandra’s father. He is a troglodyte.”

I choked on my coffee.

“He is a ruthless, violent vandal without any shred of conscience.”