Magic Breaks

  “Exactly,” Doolittle said. “The opposite sides. Why did you choose to work for the Guild?”

  “Partially because I was hiding in plain sight.”

  “And?”

  It was my turn to sigh. “Because I wanted to be happy with what I did with my life. I had done some things when I was a child. I don’t blame myself for them. I did them because the adult in my life directed me to do them and praised me when I succeeded. But when I grew up, looking back at what I had done became difficult. I wanted to help someone for a change. The Guild let me choose which jobs I took, and I got to be ‘the good guy,’ if only for a while.”

  “And that’s the crucial difference between you and Hugh. He’s an aggressor, and you’re the protector.” Doolittle leaned forward. “You could’ve been a hired killer or someone’s private weapon. Instead you chose to protect everyone around you. It’s as natural to you as breathing and I selfishly count myself to be very lucky to benefit from that, even if that urge sometimes takes you too far.”

  The way he said “too far” threw me right back to a few months ago, when he had come to after Hugh had healed him. I sat down so we would be on the same level. This had to be said. I just didn’t know how to say it. I decided to just barrel right through it. “You don’t have to worry. I know how you feel about my particular brand of magic. I hope it never comes to that, but if it does, I won’t pull you back from death like I did Julie.”

  What I had done to Julie wasn’t healing. She didn’t know it, but it made her unable to refuse a direct order from me. I remembered the fear in Doolittle’s eyes when he regained consciousness and thought I had taken away his free will with my magic. Sometimes I dreamed about that, too.

  Doolittle froze for a painful second. His voice was quiet. “Was I that easy to read?”

  “You had just come back from death,” I said.

  “I meant no offense. When I spoke about going too far, I meant that your urge to protect sometimes ends with you being hurt. You take on too much. But we might as well get this out in the open. I appreciate everything you’re willing to do, but I won’t live as anyone’s slave. My family has been legally free since 1865 and I won’t surrender my freedom no matter how benevolent of a master I’ll get. I would rather be dead.”

  “I understand,” I told him.

  We sat quietly for a few long moments.

  Doolittle reached over and touched my hand. “Your brand of magic is . . .”

  “Evil?”

  “I was going to say frightening. I don’t fear you. I don’t fear who you want to be. I do fear who you might become in spite of yourself. But you don’t need to be defined by your magic or an old man’s fears. There is a good word for the kind of person you are—honorable. It might be old-fashioned, but it fits. I’m glad I have the privilege of knowing you.”

  I forced a smile. “Even if I don’t follow your prescriptions and you have to drug me with your iced tea to keep me off my feet?”

  Doolittle smiled. “Even so. Speaking of prescriptions, you are to stay off your feet for as long as you can.”

  “Absolutely.” I got up. “I’ll open the door for you.”

  Doolittle growled. “At least have the decency to wait to ignore me until I leave.”

  “Ehh, sorry.” I held the door open for him.

  “My life would be much easier without so many hard cases in it,” he grumbled.

  “You love us, Doc. You know you do. We keep you busy. Without us, there’s no guessing what sort of trouble your idle hands would lead you into.”

  11

  I WENT TO my room, took a shower, and lay on the ridiculously large sofa in our living room. Curran’s quarters were sized to his beast form. The bed, the tub, the sofas, everything was built to accommodate an enormous prehistoric lion. But in all of our time together, I had never actually seen him use the sofa as a lion. On the rare days when he trotted into our rooms in his fur, he usually lounged about in the tub or lay on the floor, and I usually ended up on the floor with him, leaning against his side and reading a book. Maybe it was the principle of the thing.

  I missed him. Still no word on whether he was dead or alive.

  I glanced at the clock. Eight forty-five a.m. Three hours and fifteen minutes until Hugh’s deadline.

  They should’ve found Curran by now.

  I would take Hugh apart. I would wipe that smug grin off his face. He wouldn’t have a face once I was done.

  But I had to wait. Wait for Double D, wait for Hugh’s next move, wait for Curran to be found. I fucking hated waiting.

  I forced myself off the couch. I had to get dressed and be seen. With Curran gone, the Pack would look for me. The People would be moving on us soon. I needed to check our defenses and to field questions from the Pack Council. I needed to check on Derek, Desandra, and Ascanio.

  A knock sounded on my door.

  “Come in.”

  Andrea strode in, her face hard. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I came back twice earlier and your goons wouldn’t let me in.” Andrea landed in a chair. “I haven’t heard from Raphael.”

  She had known I’d ask.

  “Anything from Curran?”

  I shook my head. “I have something to tell you and you won’t like it.”

  I explained about Nick and the massacre at the chapterhouse.

  Andrea’s face turned white. She locked her hands together into a fist and bent her head toward it. Her fingers went pale from the pressure. “All of them died?”

  I nodded.

  “And Mauro?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?” Andrea asked.

  “I’m peachy.” My voice sounded brittle and bitter.

  “I thought something might happen with the Order, but not this,” she said. “Not this bad.”

  “You thought something bad would happen?”

  She grimaced as if she’d bitten into a rotten lemon. “After Erra almost took out the Atlanta chapter, Ted fell out of favor.”

  “Been keeping tabs?”

  “Oh yes. I always keep tabs on people I may need to kill.”

  She sounded just like Aunt B.

  “Moynohan was never one of the best knight-protectors, but he’d been with the Order since the beginning.”

  “A knight-founder, I know. Mauro told me.”

  Andrea leaned back. “I started to guess which way the wind was blowing when I found out that he had repeatedly refused efforts to increase the chapter’s size.”

  “Why?” I’d never understood why a city the size of Atlanta had only seven knights assigned to it.

  “Because a chapter of ten members or more requires a knight-diviner,” Andrea said.

  A knight-diviner functioned like a chaplain in regular Army units. Greg Feldman, my now-deceased guardian, had been one. He handled whatever personal issues the other knights could throw at him, and they threw quite a few.

  “I spoke to a couple of the new knights who’d transferred in,” Andrea continued. “Ted wasn’t shy about bending the rules to get where he was going, and he wanted a group of knights loyal enough to bend the rules with him. A knight-diviner would’ve diluted his authority. That’s one of the reasons why he let you in, by the way. He saw you as a nobody with a talent and a chip on your shoulder after your guardian died. He thought that if he gave you your big chance, you’d spend the rest of your life thanking him for it.”

  Well, wasn’t he in for a surprise. “I bet he opened a bottle when Greg died.”

  “Probably.” Andrea sighed. “I never thought he would retire. His ego was too big. He’d want to go out in a blaze of glory. Well, he did it, the asshole. He got his last hurrah. People died for it. God, poor Nick. He must’ve been through hell and Ted just burned him. That’s years thrown away. I would’ve killed him.”

  “He was kicking his corpse the last I saw him.”

  Andrea grimaced.

  “The Order isn’t going to help us, i
s it?” I asked.

  She faced me squarely. “No.”

  Shit. “That’s what I thought.” The Order didn’t like the Pack or the People. It had no reason to get between them. They would come down, they would investigate, and they would hunt Hugh like a rabid dog, but counting on them to intervene for our benefit now was futile. Even if they were willing to help, they wouldn’t get here in time or in large enough numbers to make a difference.

  “What are you going to do?” Andrea asked.

  “I don’t know. Ask me after we recover Double D.”

  She raised her head. “Whatever it is, Clan Bouda will back you up.”

  “Thank you.” At least my best friend was still in my corner.

  “Thank you for saving Ascanio,” she said.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.” Andrea looked at me. “I should’ve gone to the Conclave with you.”

  “You went last time.”

  “You needed me to watch your back.” She sighed. “Sarah got herself arrested up in South Carolina, and I went there personally to get her out. I should’ve just sent a Pack lawyer, but I went myself because I feel like Aunt B’s looking over my shoulder. I feel like I have to be everywhere and do everything. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss her. I so wish she were here.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  Andrea hesitated, opened her mouth, and closed it without saying a word.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  I closed my mouth with a click. “Congratulations!”

  She stared at me and spread her arms as if to say, There it is.

  “How are you? How far along?”

  “Four weeks. I’m not sick yet. I just had a feeling, so I checked.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so scared.”

  I had no idea what to say. I’d be scared, too. “Did you tell Doolittle?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You need to tell Doolittle. You need to take panacea.” And I was pretty sure neither she nor I knew how much to take. “Does Raphael know?”

  She shook her head. “I took the test yesterday.”

  Oh crap. We still didn’t know if Curran and Raphael were even alive.

  “I know exactly how Jennifer felt when Daniel died,” Andrea said. “Raphael didn’t even want to go. He was trying to win a bid on some building for the business, and I told him, ‘Go, honey. We’re brand-new alphas and this will make us look good.’”

  “They’ll be fine,” I said.

  “Of course they’ll be fine.”

  We looked at each other and made a silent effort to believe our own bullshit.

  • • •

  ANDREA LEFT AND I took myself down to the medward. Desandra and Derek had been treated, given a dinner, and both were asleep.

  One of Doolittle’s nurses told me that Ascanio’s mother was with him. They probably needed some private time, so I went into the observation hallway instead. Dim and narrow, it ran along the individual patient rooms, offering a one-way window into each. Sean, a nurse in training, nodded to me from his perch on a pillow in the corner. An intensive care unit for shapeshifters meant patients who could go loup at any minute. The rooms were reinforced and someone was keeping an eye on them 24/7 until the danger passed.

  Ascanio lay under the sheets. His color was almost back to normal. His mother sat by his bed reading him a book. He said something. Judging by his grin, he thought he was funny. His mother sighed.

  The door opened and Robert joined me.

  “He’s recovering,” the alpha rat said.

  “Yes.”

  Robert glanced at Sean. “Would you mind giving us a minute?”

  Sean rose and left the room.

  “I spoke to my husband,” Robert said.

  “This sounds ominous.”

  “I like you a great deal,” he said. “He respects and values my opinion of you.”

  “But?” There was always a “but” attached.

  Robert looked at the ceiling for a long moment. “I’m trying to find the right way to say this.”

  “Go ahead, I’ve braced myself.”

  “If Curran’s death is confirmed, the question of your retaining leadership will arise. There may be a no-confidence vote.”

  Well, that didn’t take long. “Have you heard something?”

  “Yes.”

  That came out of nowhere. I guess I’d been too complacent and this was my wake-up call. I had no plans to lead the Pack without Curran, but it still stung. I had fought hard for them, and I thought I’d earned the Pack’s respect. What else did they need from me?

  Robert frowned. “I might be asked about my experience during last night. I plan to answer truthfully. I realize it’s not the best timing, but I don’t want you to feel stabbed in the back.”

  “Was there something wrong with my conduct last night?”

  Robert met my gaze. “People like to assign their leaders noble qualities. Generosity, kindness, selflessness. The hard truth of it is, the best leaders are ruthless. Curran is ruthless. As long as there is a chance of him being alive, we will support you. We like you as a pair. You balance each other out.”

  “So you don’t think I’m ruthless enough?”

  Robert nodded at Ascanio. “I like the boy. He’s smart and brave. Funny. But when Hugh was playing with his life, I would’ve let him die.”

  I turned to him.

  “I would’ve mourned him with his mother,” Robert said. “I would’ve felt terrible and grieved. But I would’ve let d’Ambray kill him. He’s just one of the Pack’s children. You’re the Consort. If you had let yourself be taken by d’Ambray, we would’ve been leaderless. I would have to go to the Pack with the news that d’Ambray had captured you, and they would have marched on the Casino to either save you or retaliate. It would be a bloodbath. So as painful as it is, I would’ve let Ascanio die.”

  “I can’t do that.” I didn’t want to lead, but now I was doing it and that was the only way I knew how.

  “I know,” Robert said. “I think it goes against your nature. It makes you a better person than many. That’s what I am trying to say. We, the alphas, we’re not always good people. We try to be, but there are times when there are no good choices. If my clan were running from an enemy, I would sacrifice myself for their sake in a heartbeat. But if they were running to a door only I knew how to open, I would race ahead of them even if it meant that some of those behind me might fall. We think in numbers, not individuals.”

  I didn’t know what I would do. It depended on who was behind me.

  “You saved Ascanio,” Robert said. “But now Roland and d’Ambray know you have a weakness and they will use it against you. They will take someone you love and threaten to kill them, because they know you won’t be able to pass up that bait. You have to prepare to sacrifice your friends.”

  If I had to do it over again, I would’ve done the same thing.

  “I will stand with you for as long as I can,” Robert said. “But if I am asked about what happened in the Order’s chapterhouse, I will tell the Pack Council my opinion on it. No matter how I phrase it, all of them will see it in the same light Thomas and I do. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize.” I looked at him. “I respect you as a fighter and as an alpha. Without you we wouldn’t have survived the night. If you ever need help, I will help you. You may want to let the Pack Council know that they may call as many votes as they want when this mess is over. However, if any of them do anything to derail my efforts to save our people by starting some sort of no-confidence vote while I’m trying to avert this war, I’ll have them confined to their quarters. I’m pretty tired of being judged on every turn, and my patience is short.”

  Robert nodded. “Yes, Consort.”

  He walked out. I leaned against the wall. Just what I needed. I hadn’t shown Hugh any gaps in my armor. He already knew
them; he’d figured me out last summer. Now the Pack knew them as well. The Pack Council would have a field day with it when this was over.

  That was fine. I failed Mauro. But Ascanio, Derek, and Desandra survived.

  I was beginning to think in numbers. Well, wasn’t that sad?

  The door swung open and Jim loomed in the doorway. “We found Double D.”

  • • •

  I STRODE THROUGH the hallways at a near run. “Where did you find her?”

  “She was hiding at her cousin’s house in the attic,” Jim said.

  “Have you called the alphas?”

  “Yes.”

  “The rats, too?”

  He bristled. “What about the rats?”

  “They think you’re hiding information from them.”

  “I hide information from everyone. Do they think they’re special?”

  I walked into the Pack Council room. A large table dominated the space, and what could be gathered of the Pack Council occupied the chairs: Robert and Thomas Lonesco; Martha, the female alpha of Clan Heavy; the betas from Clan Nimble, the female alpha of the jackals, Andrea for Clan Bouda, and Desandra, pale and bald.

  “Where is the alpha of the wolves?”

  George, Mahon’s daughter, looked up from her spot at a small desk. “She declined to attend. She sends her apologies.” She pointed at Desandra. “She’s all we could scrounge up on short notice.”

  “Yeah,” Desandra said, her voice dry. “I’m a substitute alpha.”

  Well, of course. Because this meeting wouldn’t end well for Double D, and Jennifer didn’t want to deal with the fallout. When the wolves pitched a fit and demanded to know why one of their own was sent to the People, she would tell them she had nothing to do with it. It was all Desandra’s fault. Marvelous.

  “I thought your teeth fell out?”

  “They did.” Desandra bared a new sharp set at me. “I found out I was coming to this meeting and they grew all on their own.”

  Someone was pissed off.

  I walked to the head of the table and sat in my chair, trying to valiantly ignore the fact that Curran’s chair stood empty next to me. If I let even a tiny bit of anxiety show, I would lose the Pack Council. They would begin to bicker and we wouldn’t come to a decision.