I didn’t look at him. There. It was all out.
“Why didn’t you let her go on the bridge? Would’ve ended all the questions.”
I sighed. “Because it would be wrong. Everything that happened to her was wrong. It’s wrong to buy children, it’s wrong to stick them into a fortress and make them into killers, it’s wrong to promise them that they will get into paradise if they obey you, it’s wrong to order them to kill people, it’s wrong to bind them with your blood, which you told them is holy, and it’s wrong to break that binding because you’re engaged in a pissing contest with your father. She’s a person. She is me, Curran, or at least what Voron wanted me to be. My father didn’t come up with this idea out of the blue. He watched Voron teach Hugh and he simply improved on the concept and mass-produced it.”
He waited.
“She wanted to throw away her life for me, but I don’t deserve her life or her loyalty. The moment I chose to take her away from my father and let her live, I became responsible for her. You saw her. The only time she was allowed into the world was when there was a target and a handler. She deserves to have a life and to be free. If she understood things as they actually are, she wouldn’t sacrifice herself for me. She’d spit in my face. I want to give her a chance. I owe her a chance. Even if you’d told me at that moment that you would leave me if I let her live, I would’ve saved her. It was the right thing to do. My thing. I couldn’t drop her, Curran. I couldn’t.”
“Of course you couldn’t.”
“It’s complicated.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s pretty simple, actually. You didn’t drop her, because that’s not who you are, Kate. Because you will fight for her freedom and her life. Yes, it is a mess and it’s yours to fix. Running away from all of this and pouting by yourself in your old apartment isn’t the best way to deal with it.”
Pouting? I looked at him. “Why are you here? Weren’t you walking away the last time I saw you?”
“I walked away because I needed to clear my head and figure out what the hell was going on. And because I was so angry, I couldn’t see straight. I killed that asshole and I still wanted to keep killing. The rage wouldn’t stop. Then I cooled off, I talked to Adora and the kids, and realized that tonight was the first time I had seen the real you in days. You found another misfit with no place to go and were ready to protect her with everything you had.”
“I didn’t . . .”
“Yeah, you did. You’re like a crazy cat lady, but you collect killers instead of fluffy cats.”
“I don’t collect killers.”
“Yes, you do, and those who aren’t killers turn into killers by the time you’re done. You made Julie into a maniac. That child has more knives on her than a squad of the PAD. Christopher was the only stray who couldn’t fight, and now it turns out he’s a god of terror. Why am I not surprised?”
“I don’t need to listen to this.” I had enough guilt as it was.
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “What am I going to do with you? You’re a walking catastrophe.”
“Get the hell out of my apartment!”
“Why? So you can sit here in your solitude and mope some more?”
“I wasn’t moping.”
He grinned at me. “Poor sad Kate, all alone with her sadness . . .”
“Curran, stop while you’re ahead, or I swear, I’ll kick you until you fly right out of this window.”
He pounced on me. I tried to punch him, but it was like trying to wrestle a bear. He gathered me up and pulled me to him.
“Go away!”
“I love you,” he said.
I stopped struggling.
“Where the hell would I go without you, Kate? No matter where I went, you would be there in my head. I would miss you every moment of my life.”
“I would miss you, too.”
He squeezed me to him, his gray eyes laughing. “I brought you something.”
He pulled out a folded piece of lined paper and held it in front of me.
New Plan
Get Awesome Cosmic Powers.
Nuke my dad.
Retire from the land-claiming business.
Below in his handwriting, he’d added several lines.
Get married and start a family.
Have children. Hopefully not screw them up too badly.
Live a life we’re proud of.
He squeezed me to him.
There was nothing about the Guild there. Nothing about power or wealth. It was just him and me.
“Am I enough?” I asked.
“Always,” he said. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home. It’s late.”
“Do we have to go home right now?”
His hold on me shifted. “No, we don’t. But there is a bed here and no children, so if we stay here, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
I looked at him. “How much danger do you think I’m in?”
Little golden sparks flared in his gray eyes. “You have no idea.”
“We’ve been together for two years. I think I have some idea.”
He leaned over me and kissed me, his mouth sealing mine. It was more than a kiss. It felt like a promise and I kissed him back, making promises of my own. His hold on me tightened. His hands gripped me. The kiss broke. I opened my eyes and saw his, focused on me and heated from within by something wild.
I flipped onto my knees on the bed and kissed him, again and again, tasting him, his tongue, his lips, my hands sliding over his hard shoulders, his muscles tensing under my fingers. “I love you,” I whispered.
He buried his face in my neck. His tongue painted heat on my skin. He knew where to kiss, the sensitive spot right below my ear. It sent delicious shivers all the way down my spine.
“More . . .”
He kissed me there again. His teeth nipped the skin, the slight ping of pain a shocking burst of pleasure. I gasped. He pulled me to him, possessive, completely sure I would let him. His hand slid up my back, under the T-shirt. I stretched from the sheer pleasure of it. He unhooked my bra, rocked me back, and then he was on top of me, looking at me from three inches away. “Mine.”
“Always.”
He tugged my T-shirt up. I tried to wriggle out of it and he caught it halfway up my arms, pulling the fabric tight. I couldn’t move my arms. His mouth closed on mine. He kissed me, hungry, so hungry. Heat surged through me. I wanted him so much. I needed him to love me. He kept kissing me, his stubble scraping my neck, his hand caressing my breasts, my side, lifting me toward him. His tongue teased my nipple, pulling a moan out of me. The world shrank to him. I wanted him between my legs.
He let me go and I wrapped my arms over him and pushed him to the side. He rolled on his back and I landed on top of him. I pulled my T-shirt off, threw my bra aside, and pulled his shirt off of him. My Curran . . . How did I ever end up with him? The way he looked at me made me want to strip naked and dance just so he would pounce.
“Your move,” he said, his voice rough.
I kissed his lips, moved down and kissed that chest, stroking him, sliding my hand lower, over the ridges of his abs, down to the hard length of him in his jeans. He drew a sharp breath. I unzipped him and slid my hand up and down his shaft. He groaned, straining, trying to stay where he was.
Any more and it would be torture for us both.
I hopped off of him and pulled off my jeans. When I was done, he grabbed me, already naked and ready to go. His hand caught my hair. His body caged mine. I wrapped my legs around him. I had no patience left. He pushed my legs off him and slid down. His mouth closed on me, his tongue in the perfect spot. Each lick, each touch coaxed pleasure out of my body. He kept going, faster and faster, insistent, the wet heat growing hotter until the climax burst through me. I cried out and forgot about everything as waves of bliss shook me. He was on top of me, thrusting, long
and hard, all of him focused on me, all of him mine alone. We were making love and when the second burst of pleasure came, we shared it.
He was right about the danger. I had no idea.
• • •
MY EYES SNAPPED open. A noise came from the street, the very particular noise of claws scraping brick outside my window. Next to me Curran lay still, his eyes open. My head was on his chest, his right arm around me.
A clawed hand grabbed the windowsill and a furry, thin creature landed on it and hunched over, its face a nightmarish blend of human and rodent.
Last time a vampire, this time a wererat. There was no peace to be had in my apartment.
The wererat inclined his head. “Former Beassssht Lord. Former Consssshort.”
I knew that voice. I’d met him before; he was Robert’s favorite surveillance agent.
“Hello, Jardin,” Curran said, his voice calm.
“The former Conssshort’s father is away from hisssh bassshe. When he returnssh, he will find only asshess.”
“Jim burned my father’s base?”
Jardin nodded. “You can shee the glow in the easssht.”
Oh, Jim. I knew why he did it. Dali was hurt. She was his world. He wanted to retaliate, the Pack expected him to retaliate, because that’s what a strong shapeshifter leader would do, and so he retaliated. Curran might have done the same.
“I’m to tell you that war issh coming. Thesshe are dangeroush timesh. Friendsh mussht look out for each other if all are to shhhurvive.”
“We heard your message,” Curran said.
Jardin nodded and leapt off the windowsill into the night.
“Robert is scared,” I said.
Curran nodded, his hand stroking my shoulder. “There were probably heavy losses.”
“Jim isn’t going to come to us, is he?”
“No.”
“We still have to protect the Pack. It’s on the land we claimed.”
“Can you block his magic?” Curran asked.
“Erra says I can. I won’t know for sure until I try.”
“Do you trust your aunt?”
I turned over and looked at him. “There are certain moral principles that rule my aunt. They are what her childhood was built on. Honor and love your parents. Guard the land you claim. Have children, teach them, and guide them so the family may live on. My father trampled all of them like a runaway bulldozer. She will make him pay for it. I don’t think she’ll betray us, but if she does, we’ll deal with it.”
“But is she making you stronger?”
“She is. But magic alone won’t be enough, Curran.”
“We’ll need an army,” he said.
• • •
“YOU NEED AN army.” My aunt paced back and forth in my kitchen.
It was morning and I was on my first cup of coffee. My head throbbed.
“How can you not have a throne room?” Erra peered at me. “Where do you receive supplicants?”
“Here, or at the office.” I walked over to the counter to pour myself another cup of coffee. Curran had left on a morning run through the woods. He said he needed to burn off some energy after last night. All I wanted to do after last night was sleep for twenty-four hours straight. Where the hell he got his energy I didn’t know, but I sure would’ve loved to have some of it.
Julie sat at the table, watching my aunt with a sour expression on her face, and sipped her coffee.
“Is the office that place where you did a ridiculous dance?”
“Yes.”
“And you have no other dwelling? No palace, no fortress?”
“No.”
“You make me want to stab you.”
“I have that effect on many people.”
“How is it you’re still alive?”
“I’m hard to kill.” I drank my coffee.
“Not that hard.”
“You couldn’t do it.”
“I didn’t really try.”
I looked at her from above the brim of my cup. “You tried. I was there.”
Julie grimaced.
“What’s wrong with you this morning?”
“She doesn’t like my banner.”
Why me? Why? I counted to five in my head.
Curran walked through the kitchen door. “What’s wrong with the banner?”
“It’s blue,” Julie said.
“Why is it blue?” my aunt demanded.
“Because it’s the color of human magic,” Julie said.
“It’s the color of every human mage out there,” Erra snapped. “It’s not fit.”
I raised my hands. “I don’t care about the banner.”
My aunt reached over and smacked me upside the head. Magic exploded against my skull.
“If you do that again, I will drop your knife into a manhole for a few days.”
“Don’t make empty threats,” Erra said. “You won’t survive the next few days without me. When you want to threaten someone, you must mean it.”
“I mean it.”
“You remind me of me.” Erra groaned. “You are the punishment for all my transgressions.”
I smiled at her.
“Always remember you are a queen,” Erra ground out. “Banners are important. They are symbols. When a scared child barely old enough to hold his weapon comes to a field of battle to raise his spear for you, your banner will be the first thing he sees—and the last, as he lies dying, gazing at the sky. Your banner tells him what he is dying for.”
“Well, what banner should I have?”
“You are the only living female within our bloodline. You would inherit In-Shinar from me as I inherited it from my mother, while your father would hold Im-Shinar. The oldest female of our blood always holds In-Shinar and flies its green banner. It is your right.”
“Nobody knows what Shinar is,” Julie said.
“Her father does.”
“Will her father recognize the banner?” Curran said.
“Yes,” Erra said. “He will.”
My father would see the banner of his own family on the other side of the battlefield. It would hammer home the point: he was fighting a civil war.
“Let’s split it,” I said. “Green for Shinar and blue for Atlanta.”
“Green with a blue stripe,” my aunt said.
“Fine,” Julie grumbled.
“Go across the street,” Curran told Julie. “George’s cousin owns a textile shop. See what they can do for us. We need large banners. A lot of large banners.”
“Finally,” Erra said. “Someone who understands. Bring me samples, child. The shade of green must be exact.”
Julie got up, sighed to let us know she was suffering, and left the room.
“This still doesn’t solve the problem of our not having an army,” I said.
“What are Roland’s typical tactics?” Curran asked.
Erra sighed. “He will make a fist out of his troops and punch your Pack fortress with it. Straight-on assault with overwhelming force. Im has been taught tactics and strategy, but he has no interest in it. That’s why he relies on others to lead his armies and only assists when he has to.”
“He would’ve fought Grandmother,” I thought out loud. “She didn’t seem pleased, so it must’ve taken a lot out of him. The last time I saw him, he seemed tired. Then he’ll get home and find a burned-out ruin. That will make him livid. Erra’s right. He will want to crush the Pack with one blow.”
“We need soldiers,” Curran said.
“The Guild won’t fight without a lot of money on the table,” I said. “We can’t afford it.”
“Pay them out of your dowry,” Erra said.
“I have no dowry.”
“Your father will give you a dowry.”
“We are pr
eparing to fight him on the battlefield.”
“Those two things are completely separate,” my aunt said. “No princess of Shinar ever went to her wedding without a dowry.”
“Even if we had the money,” Curran said, “at this point, the mercs aren’t trained to fight as a unit. Give me six months, and we can field them, but right now they would be fodder. We can pick up a few choice fighters from the Guild, but no real numbers to speak of.”
“Fine. Who else do we have?” Erra asked.
“The god of terror and the dark volhv,” I told her.
“The one from yesterday? The handsome one?”
“Yes.” Roman would just love that. He was so disturbed by Erra yesterday, he didn’t even crack any one-liners. He just sat quietly with a freaked-out look on his face when she demanded that we explain the fight to her. I would have to wait for the right moment to drop that one on him.
“That’s good, but it’s not an army. Your half-breed friends will lose this battle if you don’t field troops, because your father will bring enough force to crush them.”
“We can get the Order to help,” I said. “They will defend against Roland.”
“How many soldiers?”
“Twelve,” Curran said. “They are elite troops. It’s not an army.”
“Who can you compel into service?” Erra asked.
“I can’t compel anyone,” I said. “I can ask for help but it would take time and diplomacy.”
The witches might help. The College of Mages would take too long. They spent more time deliberating what to get for lunch than most people spent choosing a house.
“We don’t have time,” Curran said. “Can you strip the People’s vampires from them and run them on the field?”
“Yes. They wouldn’t do anything except run in a horde, but yes.”
“You mean to tell me that Im left his necromancers here? In that gaudy nightmare of a castle?”
“Yes.”
Erra rolled her head up and looked straight at the ceiling. “Gods give me patience. How many?”