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Magic Binds

Page 67

   


My father was ripping my life apart friend by friend. The temptation to march down to his half-finished castle and attack was overwhelming. And that was what he expected me to do. I had to use whatever will I had left to not do it, not until I knew for sure that I had a way to neutralize him.
The anger buoyed me. I could barely contain it and if I thought too much about my father, I’d see red and go blind. I had to think of something else. Anything else.
The stairs ended. We walked into the courtyard. The morning sunshine seemed too bright. It hurt my eyes.
“Out of my way,” a deep voice ordered. I glanced over my shoulder. Mahon headed straight for us.
Curran handed the keys over to Derek. “Take her to the car.”
“We’ll kill him,” Mahon said.
“We will,” Curran said.
“You’re vulnerable and exposed out there in the city. You’re welcome to move your people, all your people, shapeshifter and not, into the Clan Heavy house. If not, let me send people down there to reinforce you. I’m not talking guards on every corner, but some muscle. In case.”
Curran considered it. “Thank you. We could use the help.”
“Take care of the little one,” Mahon told me. “Jim will come around.”
The Bear clamped his hand on Curran’s shoulder, squeezed, turned, and went back inside.
We reached the car. I went to the driver’s side—in warrior form, Curran was too big to fit behind the wheel.
“All this is because of me.”
“No, all of this is because of Roland,” Curran said. “You didn’t kidnap Saiman. You didn’t attack a baby. All you did and all any of us wanted to do is live our fucking lives in peace.”
I loved him so much. “Thank you, but that’s not what I meant. I meant that every anchor so far was connected to me. If I hadn’t known about the prophecy, I wouldn’t have come to the Keep.”
“Yes. That’s why you and I are joined at the hip from now on.”
I arched an eyebrow at him.
“I mean it.” He flashed his teeth at me. “I did what you asked. I got Saiman out for you. You did . . . what you had to do. From now on we go together.”
“Okay.”
I got into the car and drove down the road. The moment we rolled out of the Pack courtyard, Julie broke. Derek wrapped his arm around her. She cried and cried, heartbroken. Julie almost never cried anymore.
If Dali died . . . I didn’t even want to think about it. If I had a choice, I would hit my father now, hard and fast, with all of our strength. Instead I had to sit on my hands, because right now we couldn’t win. Not until my aunt helped me figure out how to defeat him.
“I didn’t know,” Julie sobbed. “She took care of me for two years and I didn’t know.”
“Nobody knew,” Curran told her.
“He threw her away. Just like that. For nothing.”
I almost said I tried to tell you before and bit it back before it came out. Not the right time.
“Why her? Why? She was so nice.”
“Because she was close to you,” Derek said.
Julie buried her face in her hands and cried.
“I’m so sorry,” I told her. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’ll make him pay. I promise you.”
“It won’t bring her back,” she whimpered.
My heart was cracking and it hurt. You bastard. You fucking bastard. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
Trees rolled by. For several minutes we didn’t talk. I drove and looked straight ahead.
“Where are we going?” Derek asked.
“We’re going to the Guild,” I said. We were going to work.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I need Saiman to read what my father wrote on my skin while I was in the womb. The sooner Erra can tell me what it is, the sooner we can kill him.”
The car fell silent.
“Well,” Curran said. “At least the pervert has a purpose.”
Chapter 12
THE GUILD OCCUPIED the remains of an old hotel on the edge of Buckhead. When Curran, Barabas, and I took it over, the tower was in ruins, partially because a rogue giant had ripped off its roof trying to eat the delicious people hiding inside. The Guild had a new roof now. A new front parking lot and a new back lot too, the latter fenced in by a solid wall and converted into a training yard. Barabas was trying to push through a permit with the city that would allow us to put an even bigger wall around the building. Any time Curran got a base, he wanted to wall it in. For defensive purposes. He’d tried to wall in our street too, and it took all of us together to talk him out of it.
The Guild was looking good. We were still two hundred thousand in the hole, but we were slowly beginning to recoup that investment.
I parked in the lot. We got out and headed for the building. The inside of the Guild had gotten a face-lift as well. The mess hall was back and the food was actually good this time, which made sense because nothing offended shapeshifters more than subpar dining options. Barabas had insisted on bringing back the koi. Originally a stream had run through the hotel floor culminating in a large pond. Barabas didn’t want the stream, but he did somehow find the money for the pond. He said it was therapeutic and got two of the Pack’s counselors to back him up. Now a large pond sat next to the dining area, complete with a bridge across it. Five big koi, three gold and two white, slowly glided in the shallow water. The mercenaries kept feeding the fish and I had a feeling the koi would get morbidly obese before too long.
About twenty mercs ate, swapped war stories, and checked their gear on the main floor, waiting for a job or relaxing after one before going home. A dozen voices said hello as we walked in. A second after we stepped through the door, I realized Curran was still in all of his warrior form splendor.
“Woo!”
“Cover up!”
“Rough morning, Curran?”
Curran grinned, showing his big teeth.
“Hey, Daniels, you better put him in check. There are children present,” Juke called.
“Where?” Collins asked.
“She means you, dickhead,” Santiago said.
“Come over here and say that to my face.”
“I would, but you too ugly.”
Tension seeped out of me with every step. This I knew. This was familiar. This was my world.
Barabas waved at us from behind the glass. The previous administrator of the Guild considered himself to be white-collar and fully embraced a personal office, expensive suits, and secretaries. The first thing Barabas did was gut his fourth-floor office and sell off the pricey furniture. Then he took over the smallest conference room downstairs, separated from the main floor by glass. He sat there now, wearing jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, his desk filled with papers. His door was usually open. Mercs wandered in and out with questions. Usually Christopher hung out in the office as well, or somewhere on the Guild floor, reading a book at the table by the koi, or talking to the Clerk, depending on how he was feeling. Maggie was curled up in her little plush bed in Barabas’s office, but I saw no signs of Christopher.