Magic Binds

CHAPTER 7

WE CLIMBED DEEP into the Blue River woods. The trees took the brunt of the sun’s assault, but still, the heat baked us. Sweat collected in my armpits despite the deodorant. Another half hour in this heat, and nobody would have trouble tracking us. We’d leave a scent trail a mile wide.

The river cut through the forest from north to south, flowing through a narrow valley bordered by hills. It had formed during a flare years ago, streaming from the now massive Bryon Lake. Nearly all storm drainage in the area ended up in the Blue River through the tiny creeks and swales, and when it rained, the river rebelled and roared. Right now it lay calm, beckoning me with its nice cold water as we crossed the narrow wooden bridge, heading north, deeper into the woods.

I wished I could take a dip. Ten minutes and I would be ready to go hunt old ladies again. Sadly, no dipping would be happening.

The path turned west, climbing up a slope.

Derek grimaced again. He would never complain, but the scent had to be driving him nuts. Ascanio was equally stoic. Neither of them had belittled the other’s wits, fighting ability, or sexual prowess in the last half hour. If I were less badass, I’d be worried.

We’d been walking for another fifteen minutes when Derek paused. Ascanio came to stand next to him. They stared through the trees where light indicated a clearing. We’d reached the top of a low hill.

“Is she close?”

They both nodded.

“The scent is so . . . wrong,” Ascanio said.

I pulled Sarrat out of my sheath. Holland pulled a sword out of the scabbard on his hip. Dark, with a no-nonsense epoxy and leather grip, the blade ran about nineteen inches long and at least an inch and a half wide, with a profile that fell somewhere between a falchion and a Collins machete. Holland held it like he’d gotten it dirty before.

If we got Beau’s deputy injured, we could kiss the sheriff’s cooperation good-bye.

I moved toward the light, walking nice and slow, careful where I put my feet. The two shapeshifters glided on both sides of me. I could barely hear Holland behind me. It wasn’t his first time in the woods either.

The trees parted. A clearing spread before us, unnaturally circular, as if some giant had dropped a huge coin in the middle of the woods and forgotten about it for a decade or two. The grass covered the ground, but no trees had managed to encroach on the clearing. The growth around us was new too, the trees tall but thinner than those half a mile back by the river. Must’ve been a fire a few years back.

I walked to the edge of the clearing. An old woman stood in the light with her right side to me. She wore a pair of beige pants, a white collared blouse with matching beige polka dots, and a white knitted cardigan. It had to be ninety-five degrees, I was sweating like a pig, and here she was, wrapped in wool.

Holland shouldered his way to the front. “Mrs. Boudreaux? I’m Deputy Holland. I need you to come with me.”

No reaction.

“Mrs. Boudreaux!”

She didn’t even turn.

I walked toward her, sword in hand. Holland caught up to me, while Ascanio and Derek fanned out to the sides.

“Mrs. Boudreaux?” I asked.

She turned to me. The whites of her eyes had yellowed and the red veins stood out, fat with blood. She stared at me.

Holland smiled at her. “Mrs. Boudreaux, it’s me, Robby Holland. I’m Gladys Holland’s son. You used to knit together, remember?”

She peered at him, swiveling her neck at an angle, like a puzzled dog.

“We were all very worried when you walked off. You didn’t even say where you were going.” His voice was slightly chiding. “And it’s hot out here. Let’s get you off this mountain and into some nice cool shade. What do you say?”

Jene opened her mouth. “Little prick.”

Nice.

“There is no cause for strong language,” Holland said. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to insist you come with me.”

The old lady turned to me. “You’re her. You’re his bitch daughter.”

Thanks for the reputation bump, Dad. “Yes, I am.”

She stared at me, her gaze unsettling.

Try me and see how bitchy I can be.

“I could serve you,” she said. “I’m powerful. I have magic. I can blight things. Look, I made this.” She pointed to the clearing. “Ten years and nothing except grass grows. I’m quiet and hard to kill.”

Wow.

She was trying to peer at me over Holland’s shoulder and her eyes, wide open and unblinking, made her face deranged. A darker yellow, like the color of a rotten citrus, was flooding her irises.

“I can do things for you. Magic things. But I need food. You feed me and I do things for you.” She nodded. “Bring me children. The poor ones. Nobody cares about the poor ones.”

Next to me Derek tensed. Holland stared at her, openmouthed.

“How many?” I asked.

“Not many. One or two a month. Children are easier. Soft bones.”

“Alpha?” Ascanio’s voice held a note of warning.

“Have you eaten many children?” I asked. “I need to know if their parents will cause problems.”

“Only two,” she said. “Years ago. No problems. I threw the bones in the trash. You own the land. I’m the land’s creature, so I will serve you and you’ll bring me food and guard me from the bigger creatures. It’s a good bargain.”

“No,” I told her.

Derek pulled off his shoes. On the other side of me Ascanio did the same.

I shook my head. “You’re an evil thing that eats children. There is no place for you here.”

“You can’t pick and choose,” she said. “I’m part of the land. I was born here. All my people were born here, many generations. I belong here.”

“You should’ve stuck to birds,” I said.

“You can’t have the good without the bad,” she said. “Some creatures eat grass and some creatures eat the grass eaters. We are all born for a reason. You must have monsters to protect your land, and I will protect it well. If you need something, I will do it. I won’t even eat humans, only the ones you bring me.”

“No.”

“You must have servants to do things for you. I can be one. It’s a good bargain. This is your land and I’m your creature.”

A part of me, the deep dark part that felt the magic pulse last night, puzzled over it and decided that she wasn’t unreasonable. The land spawned this monster and I guarded the land, so she was one of mine, too. They were all mine and I could use her.

There it was. Small decisions. Kate Daniels, Queen of the Monsters.

“You are right. You are mine. If you hadn’t harmed anyone, I could have let you find a place of your own away from everyone. But you’ve eaten human children and you want to do it again. There are rules in my lands and you broke them. I’m not here to make bargains. I’m here to punish.”

She stared at me, unblinking. Hatred twisted her face.

“You think you can stop him. You can’t. All of you will die.”

I flicked Sarrat, warming up my wrist. I’d promised Beau I’d let his deputy make the call, and I would keep my word. “Holland, I need that go-ahead.”

“I can take you in,” Holland said. “She’ll kill you, but Milton County will protect you. There is due process.”

She was past saving, but I had to give it to him, he did try.

Bulges rolled under Jene’s skin, like billiard balls moving through her body.

Ascanio pulled two vicious-looking knives from the sheaths on his belt.

“Holland!” Damn it.

She swayed, an eerie sad smile on her face, reached out, and brushed Holland’s face with her fingertips, caressing his skin with gentle tenderness.

“Gladys’s son.”

“That’s right.” Holland nodded. “Come with me. Let me take you in . . .”

“When he comes through with his soldiers and fire, I’ll follow him.”

She took several steps back. “And I’ll feed. I’ll wait until he kills you, Gladys’s son, and then I’ll suck your bones dry.”

Her whole body jerked and shot upward. Her clothes ruptured, and a huge body spilled out, growing bigger and bigger. She fell straight down and gripped the dirt with her hands, her elbows up, as if she were about to do a push-up.

“What the hell . . .” Holland breathed out.

Her legs turned within their sockets with a vomit-inducing crunch, until her knees stuck straight up, like the legs of a spider. Her neck lengthened, thickening, the skin dripping down to form a pouch on her throat. Her white hair fell loose around her giant head, her wrinkled breasts sagged to the forest floor, and a thin strip of gray fur sprouted on her spine. Yellowed claws curved from her fingers and toes. She was the size of a bus.

“Hungry!” She screeched, clicking sharp conical teeth. “I’m hungry!”

Beau could take his instructions and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. “Hit her!”

The two shapeshifters charged in from the sides. The thing that was Jene Boudreaux dashed forward with cockroach quickness, straight at me.

I shoved Holland aside and sliced across her face with my sword. A bloody line swelled across her skin, severing her lip. She slapped me. I flew back, landed on the grass, and rolled to my feet in time to see her kick Derek with her right foot. He hurtled through the air and vanished into the brush. She must’ve knocked him down the slope.

I sprinted to her.

Ascanio sank both of his knives into her side. She howled and rolled sideways, right over him. He went down, pinned under her massive body.

I slashed at her shoulder. Move off my bouda, you bitch.

She snapped her teeth at me, trying to bat me aside with her giant clawed hand, and dug in, crushing Ascanio beneath her bulk. I sliced at her hand, carving at it with precise strikes. She screeched in pain.

Lots of nerves in the hand. Hurts like hell, doesn’t it? Get off the boy.

A dark gray shape burst out of the brush and landed on the creature’s back. Derek thrust his claws into her spine. Jene rolled the other way, trying to pin him with her weight. He jumped off and landed on my right. Ascanio darted over to us, free. His body twisted into a nightmarish blend of hyena and human. His hackles rose and he cackled.

Jene rolled to her feet and hands. Her side bled, carved like a side of beef—Ascanio had been busy with his knife.

I flicked the blood off my sword.

Jene glanced at the three of us on her right and the stretch of woods to the left, and dashed toward freedom. Holland thrust himself into her path and swung his sword. She jerked her head up, quick like a snake, dove, and gulped him down whole.

Dear gods, she ate Beau’s deputy.

A bulge landed in her throat sac and flailed, kicking. She sprinted through the woods, heading west, blindingly fast, scrambling through the forest like some monstrous pallid lizard.

Holland had seconds to live. We’d never catch up and kill her in time. We had to make her turn toward us. To the right, a slope dropped toward the river. When you fled, you naturally ran downhill.

“Derek, herd her! Make her turn southeast along the river.”

Derek’s eyes flashed yellow. He raised his head and let out a long wolf howl announcing the hunt. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The werewolf and werehyena shot into the woods.

I dashed down the south slope and almost ran into a narrow tree. Nice going. Maybe I’d break my neck and save everyone the trouble.

To the left of me Derek howled nonstop, Ascanio’s eerie laughter a bloodcurdling drumbeat to the wolf song.

I caught myself on a tree and paused, surveying the woods. The river lay to my right. A couple hundred yards behind me, a bridge spanned the deep water. In front of me, an old bike path, overgrown but still visible, snaked through the woods, playing hide-and-seek with the shore. If she came from the west, she’d take it.

A huge oak towered to the left of the path. Perfect.

I pressed my back against the bark. I’d only get one shot at this.

The sounds of snapping wood and brush came from the west.

I held my breath.

Closer.

Closer.

A sapling snapped with a loud crack.

Now. I lunged out from behind the tree just as she passed me and sliced across her gullet.

The skin pouch tore open under Sarrat’s merciless edge. Holland tumbled out, covered in slime, and drew a hoarse breath.

I had no time to check if he was in one piece. I reversed the blade and thrust it deep between her ribs. Sarrat slid into her flesh with a satisfying hiss, its blade smoking. I twisted sharply to the right. Blood gushed from the wound around the blade.

The monster screamed, her fury shaking the brush.

I pulled my saber free.

The monster whipped around, the skin on her throat hanging like a punctured balloon, and snapped her teeth, trying to bite me in half. I danced back, behind the tree. She followed, crawling up the side of the oak with sickening quickness, her teeth snapping like a bear trap closing. I backpedaled through the brush, trying not to trip on the forest floor. If her insides matched a human’s, I’d sliced her liver and cut the hepatic vein or artery, likely both. If I ran her around enough, she would bleed out.

Ascanio burst out of the woods, speeding up toward us.

The old lady grabbed at me. I sliced at her fingers. She kept coming, oblivious to pain, her face an ugly mask. She was hurting, but killing me was all that mattered.

Ascanio tore into her side, but she ignored him, her gaze fastened on me. I sliced again and again. A moment too slow and she’d grip me into her clawed fist. Strike, strike, strike. This was too much fun.

Derek landed onto Jene’s back and thrust a young tree through her. The old lady thrashed, like a pinned bug. Derek ripped into her from above, while Ascanio tore at her from the side.

I ducked in as she thrashed. Her arm passed over me, clawed fingers stretched, and I sliced the inside of her biceps and moved back. One arm down. One to go. Patience is a virtue . . .

With a howl, Holland burst from the brush, charged past me, and buried his blade in her neck. She tried to jerk away but the stake held her fast. He hacked at her neck like she was a tree, his sword rising and falling in swift frenzy. Her head sagged to the side, lolled, hanging for a moment by a thread of skin and muscle, then fell and rolled clear. The body crashed into the brush, blood pouring from the stump.

Okay. That’s one way to do it.

Holland stared at me, his eyes wild, his body dripping slime and blood.

“You’re okay,” I told him. “You’re cool. Everything is okay.”

“I quit.”

“You’re okay. It’s shock.”

“No. I’m done.” He waved his sword at me. “She swallowed me! I was inside her!”

Ascanio cracked up, showing way too many hyena teeth. I gave him the look of death and he clamped his mouth shut.

“I quit!” Holland threw his sword down.

“Okay,” Derek said.

“Look, be reasonable,” Ascanio said. “We’ve all been there. One time there was this hungry wendigo . . .”

“Redundant,” Derek said.

Ascanio rolled his eyes. “The point is, weird shit happened. Weird shit happens a lot. It’s traumatic. Look, she rolled onto me. You don’t even want to know what gross things were pressed against my face.”

Holland’s face jerked.

“Too soon,” Derek said. “The man says he quits, let him quit. Here, I’ll carry your sword for you.”

“What are you doing?” Ascanio said. “He’s clearly in shock. Beau assigned him to babysit us. We are difficult to babysit, so Beau must have a lot of respect for the deputy, which in turn means Deputy Holland is good at his job.”

“So?” Derek asked.

The magic wave hit, flooding us. The two shapeshifters paused for a moment, acknowledging it, and kept going.

Ascanio shook his furry head. “His entire identity is probably wrapped up in being a deputy. You can’t let one incident destroy his sense of self. He needs to be talked off this cliff.”

Holland stared at the werewolf, then at the bouda.

Ascanio’s mother, Martina, was one of the Pack’s counselors. I had no idea he’d picked up that much from her.

“You’re not doing a good job of it,” Derek said.

“I’d be doing a lot better if you’d stop helping him take the plunge.”

I felt a tendril of magic reaching through the woods, delicate, hesitant, searching for something, probing. The magic brushed me and withdrew with elastic quickness.

Hello, there. And who would you be?

“Derek, shut up for a second.” Ascanio turned to Holland. “Deputy Holland, weird awful crap happened to us today. Because you endured it, that weird awful crap won’t be happening to anyone else. Nobody will get eaten. You swore an oath, you upheld your oath. That was a noble thing.”

“I don’t care,” Holland said.

I studied the woods across the river. Where are you . . . ?

“It doesn’t matter.” Derek picked up the old woman’s head by the hair and hoisted it up. It was nearly four feet high from chin to the hairline. “Let’s talk about this later. We need to take the head to Beau before it starts to smell.”

“Why?” Ascanio said.

“She was part of the community,” I said without turning. “We need to show proof that we had no choice but to kill her.”

A woman stepped out of the woods on the other side of the river, a gauzy dark purple scarf wrapped around her head, hiding the bottom half of her face. She pulled it off slowly, so it hung from her shoulder. About my size and my age, with dark eyes and dark hair pulled into a high ponytail. She wore black pants, soft black boots, and a black coat trimmed with purple and split in the center to allow for quick movement. A black leather gorget shielded her neck, extending into a chest plate of supple black leather that covered her left breast. The chest plate wouldn’t stop a sword thrust. It wasn’t meant to. It existed to provide her just enough protection so that if she miscalculated by half an inch when she avoided a cut, the graze of the opponent’s blade wouldn’t draw blood. A katana hung from her belt.

Black and purple again. At least no human leather this time.

The woman looked directly at me and walked to the bridge.

Ah. I see.

Ascanio opened his mouth.

“Quiet,” Derek told him.

I strode through the grass toward the bridge, Sarrat in my hand.

We stepped onto the boards at the same time.

The woman stopped. So did I.

She bowed, keeping her eyes on my face.

“The scent from the old lady’s house,” Derek said behind me.

The scent he’d smelled in Roland’s castle and then again in Jene’s backyard. Figured.

“I’ve come for the head,” she said, her voice colored with an accent I couldn’t place.

Sienna’s words came back to me. The head is important.

I pondered for a moment. My father wanted the head. Why? It was completely inert. I felt no magic emanating from it.

“No,” Holland said.

I glanced over my shoulder. He drew himself straight. “That head is evidence in an ongoing investigation by Milton County. It belongs to the people of Milton County.”

I turned back to the woman. “You heard the deputy.”

“My orders are to secure the head,” she said.

There would be violence. The air was ripe with it.

“You’ll have to go through me,” I told her.

“So be it.”

“Walk away,” I told her. “My father isn’t worth your life.”

“If you kill me, I’ll be slain by Sharrim in battle. If I kill you, I’ll be slain by Sharrum in his grief. My entire life culminates here. My passage to the afterlife is assured. I’m at peace.”

“How about door number three? Turn around and go live a nice life somewhere else.”

“You do me a great honor, Sharrim. Defend yourself.”

She opened her mouth. A torrent of magic smashed into me. My ears recognized the fact that there must’ve been a sound, but I didn’t hear it, I felt it. It crashed into me, instantly freezing every muscle in my body. It was as if my very cells turned solid. The world slowed to a crawl. I couldn’t move.

She’d used a power word against me.

I saw her lunge at a glacial speed, her katana swinging in a glittering beautiful arc, slow, but impossible to stop. Classic attack, two hands, devastating power, born from strength, speed, and precise movement perfected over countless generations.

The sword was coming toward me and I was standing there like an idiot.

I reached deep inside myself and pulled on my magic. Straining was agony. Summoning the power was like grasping my own veins and pulling them out of my body.

The sword reached the highest point and began its inevitable descent.

I pulled. Move or die. There was no third choice.

The sword carved its path through the air.

I forced my lips to open a mere crack. The power word was a whisper, a faint breath that escaped my mouth almost on its own.

“Dair.” Release.

The magic’s hold shattered. I shied back. The point of the katana slashed across my face, right to left, drawing a hair-thin line of pain. She struck again, overhead, left to right, too fast to see. I batted her blade aside. Steel rang. She cut at me a third time and I caught her sword on Sarrat. Our blades locked. She threw her entire weight at me, pushing.

My arms shook from the strain. The blades vibrated. Strong.

She grunted, squeezing more pressure. Very strong.

Not strong enough.

I jerked my arms up, throwing her blade and her arms upward. She brought it down, aiming for another devastating cut, but I sliced across her torso, left to right. Sarrat bit deep, cutting across her stomach and coming free, blood flying from its blade.

She fell to her knees and sank down, curling on the ground. So much skill. So much training wasted. Years of practice and study for three seconds of battle and for what? Because my father told her to fetch the head at any cost. She hadn’t questioned it. She obeyed.

“Was it worth it?”

She was gulping air in shallow breaths.

I crouched by her.

“Was your life worth this? Can you see the afterlife? Is it everything my father told you it would be? Or is it darkness and nothing?”

She was staring at me, her eyes wide with fear.

I should kill her and send her head to my father on a fucking pike. Her presence in my land was an insult.

Drops of blood slid from my wounded face, falling into the gash on her stomach. They landed in the pool of her blood, drops of pure fire falling into cooling water, and then something within her blood answered. Her body clutched onto my blood, receptive and eager. Her magic recognized mine. My father had done something to her. The imprint of his power burned within her. He owned her and he had sealed his ownership with magic. I’d felt something similar before on people who were cursed. She was a slave.

No. She’s in my domain. You don’t get to keep this one. This one is now mine.

I dragged my hand over my wound and let my blood fall into her. Commanding her to be released wouldn’t do it. I had to supplant his ownership.

“Hesaad.” Mine.

Her body shook. My father’s seal held. I gritted my teeth, pouring magic into her. It pulled her from the brink of death, but she was still his.

“I swore an oath, Sharrim . . .” she whispered. “He’s Sharrum . . .”

“He isn’t here. This is my domain. Here I’m Sharratum. Here I rule. My word is the only word that matters.”

The pressure of my power had ground the seal to almost nothing, but couldn’t pierce it. It needed to be broken from within. I needed movement or words, some sort of indication, some specific action I could make her do. If she acknowledged and obeyed, it would shatter the seal like the strike of a dagger.

“Rise.”

She screamed.

“Rise.”

Convulsions gripped her. She needed help. She’d lost too much blood.

I put my hand above her chest, the surface of my palm a prism through which I focused on the blood inside her. It felt . . . right. I sensed her heart beating and my blood spreading through her like fire. It pumped and each pulse set the intricate net of her capillaries aglow.

Magic bubbled up from somewhere deep within me and flowed out into her. Her body straightened, pulled by my power.

“Rise.”

The seal shattered in an explosion of power. She rolled to her feet and stood.

Her voice came out strained, in tortured gasps. “My life . . . for you, Sharratum.”

She swayed, but stayed upright. Blood soaked the entire front of her coat. I could seal her and she would be completely mine. The groundwork was already there.

No. Curran wouldn’t like that.

“Your life is your own. I don’t want it. You’re no longer a slave.”

I let go. She collapsed on the bridge.

I turned around. Derek stood completely motionless four feet away from me. I’d been concentrating on her so hard, I hadn’t heard him walk over. Behind him Ascanio stared at me, his face shocked even in half-form. Holland gripped his sword, watching me like I was rabid.

Damn it. I did it again. I let the magic drag me under. How the hell did it even happen . . . ?

“Sharrim,” the woman on the ground whispered. “Let me serve you, Sharrim. My life is yours. My will is yours. Kill me.”

Oh crap. Crap.

“Everything I am is yours. All I ask is a good death.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” Derek snarled.

“I haven’t done anything.”

His eyes glowed bright yellow. He bared his teeth, his muzzle wrinkling in an ugly snarl. The fur on his back rose. “Do you think it’s fucking easy for Julie? She never forgets that you can override her will with one word. She feels you. Always! Every fucking second of every day.”

Julie knew. She knew.

“She already loves you as much as she can. I would die fighting for you.” He stabbed his clawed hand at Ascanio. “He would die for you. Isn’t it fucking enough, Kate? How much love and devotion do you need that you keep making slaves?”

It felt like he had stabbed me.

“I didn’t make her into a slave.”

“She’s bleeding out and all she wants is for you to love her and kill her. What the hell do you call that?”

“I didn’t enslave her! My father did. I broke their bond. She’s free now.”

“I’m so sorry, Sharrim,” the woman on the ground whispered. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult.”

“Will you obey any order she gives?” Derek snarled.

“Yes.”

Derek pointed to her. “Don’t lie to me, Kate. I’ll do almost anything for you, but don’t lie to me!”

He didn’t believe me. He was right there when it happened and he didn’t believe me. Curran wouldn’t believe me either. Julie knew she couldn’t refuse my orders. Everything I built was collapsing around me.

The magic tore out of me and I screamed into it. The land screamed with me. Water shot up from the river, the trees jerked up as if pulled straight by an invisible hand, and every weed stood perfectly straight. Derek clamped his hands onto the bridge rail. Holland flew back. Ascanio caught him and spun him around, grabbing the rail and shielding the deputy with his back.

I screamed, the frustration boiling out of me until it was finally gone.

Water collapsed back into the river, drenching us with spray.

I had to fix this. I had no idea how and I was suddenly so tired.

I exhaled and turned to Derek. “Have I ever lied to you?”

He didn’t answer.

“Have I ever lied to you, Derek?”

“No.”

“I’m telling you right now I didn’t turn her into a slave. I could’ve, but I didn’t. I don’t know what she is. I don’t understand why she is acting this way. But we’re going to find out. Pick her up. We’ll take her to a medmage and when she’s better, we can ask her questions.”

He stared at me.

“If you won’t carry her, then I will,” I told him. “But she would be more comfortable with you because you’re stronger. Or you can walk away. That will be fine, too.”

Derek scooped the woman off the bridge. Ascanio picked up the old woman’s head.

We started down the path back to civilization.

I’d fucked up. I didn’t cross the line but I came close enough to see the abyss at the bottom. Explaining this to Curran would be really difficult. Derek was right there and he didn’t believe me.

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman.

“Adora.”

“We’re going to take you to the emergency room, where a medmage will work on you. Please don’t tell the medmage anything about my father or me. If he asks how you got this wound, tell him to ask me.”

“Yes, Sharrim.”

Derek’s eyes shone.

“Also, please don’t call me Sharrim. Call me Kate.”

“Yes, Kate.”

I needed to figure out exactly what she was before I saw Curran, because I didn’t understand it myself and I didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings. I knew what I did and what I didn’t do. If I made it into a “believe me because I am me and you know me” argument, he would give me the benefit of the doubt, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to prove to him with absolute certainty that I hadn’t enslaved this woman. I hadn’t crossed the line. I’d ridden an elephant up to it and run back and forth along its edge while a mariachi band played in the background, but I hadn’t crossed it.

“What kind of language was that?” Holland asked.

“What?”

“When you were talking to her on the bridge, asking questions, what kind of language was it?”

What was he on about? I spoke English.

“I’m going to have to write a report,” Holland said.

I looked at Derek. “Did I speak another language?”

“Yes.” He didn’t look at me.

“What did it sound like?”

“It hurt,” Ascanio said.

“But do you remember any actual words?”

“Estene kari la amt-am. That was the last thing you said,” Derek said.

You’re no longer a slave. Oh fuck. I understood it. I’ve been speaking it. All this time I thought my magic was saturating my words. Fuck.

“Put ‘language of power’ into your report,” I said.

“Okay,” Holland told me.

The Milton ER was our first stop. We left Adora there. I paid for the first twenty-four hours of treatment and told Adora to stay there until I came and got her. The medmage spelled the cut on my face closed and told me to not expect miracles in regard to whether it would scar.

We walked into Beau’s office headfirst. It barely fit through the double door. The sheriff of Milton County looked at the head, looked at us, assessed the sorry state of his deputy, reached into his desk, and extracted a feather.

“This was found where the horses were. The two brothers identified it as belonging to the winged devil.”

I took the feather. It was long and glossy, a pure black that seemed to swallow the light, except for the very tip where a thin orange-red flared as if someone had dipped the feather into liquid fire. Only one being had feathers like that—Thanatos, the angel of death, with black wings and a flaming sword.

As soon as I got to a working phone, I’d need to call Teddy Jo.

“You need to tell Curran,” Derek told me as we walked back to our cars.

“Stay out of my relationship.”

“I don’t want you to turn into someone else,” he said quietly.

“I won’t.” Back in the woods when he was screaming in my face, I’d wanted to crush every bone in his body. I’d stomped on that urge before it went anywhere, but it was there. There were few things that terrified me. That did.

I HAD TO do a dozen things. I needed to call Teddy Jo. I needed to speak to Sienna. I needed to look through my notes on my father to see if I could find any reference to what Adora might be. Instead I dropped Ascanio off near his mother’s house, dropped Derek off at Cutting Edge, and turned around. I drove through the city as the sun slowly rolled toward the horizon. By the time I got to the Keep, the heat of the day had begun to ease. Evening was coming.

I walked into the Keep, identified myself to the sentries, and one of the guards walked me to the medward. New rules. Jim had decided I shouldn’t be walking around the Keep unescorted. It didn’t even bother me. I’d gone numb.

They’d put Andrea in a corner room, the one with large windows. I walked in. She was eating fried chicken and Raphael was holding Baby B.

Andrea saw my face and stopped eating.

“I’ve come to hold the baby,” I told her.

She nodded to Raphael. He got up and gave his daughter to me. I took Baby B. She stirred a little in her sleep and snuggled against me.

“The other room has the rocking chair in it,” Andrea said, pointing through the open double door. “There’s a nice window there.”

I went into the other room and sat in the rocking chair by the window, Baby B in my arms.

“Is everything okay?” Raphael asked quietly in the other room.

“Things are kind of fucked up right now,” Andrea said. “I’ll tell you later.”

I rocked Baby B. It was just me, the baby, and the slowly dying evening.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Someone walked in. I listened to the steps. Julie.

“Hi,” she said behind my back.

“Hi.”

She came over and sat on the floor by me.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Derek talked to me.” Julie sighed and hugged her knees. “Derek is a dummy. Why is it that guys can’t keep a secret?”

“It was a pretty big secret.”

“Well, it wasn’t his to tell.”

“When did you find out?” I asked.

“Roland told me when you went to the Black Sea.”

“Is that how long you’ve been talking to him?”

She nodded.

“He’s poison.”

“I know.”

I looked at her. “Why, Julie? Is it power? Is it knowledge?”

“It’s because I love you,” she said in a small voice.

“What?”

“You’re twenty-eight,” she said. “Voron left Roland’s service almost thirty years ago. The last up-to-date information you have on him is thirty years old. When Voron died thirteen years ago, you lost even that. Roland has done a lot in thirty years.”

“I don’t need you to spy on Roland for me. It’s too dangerous. You’re sixteen years old. He is over five thousand years old, possibly older. You can’t trust anything he says. You can’t even trust anything you see there. He’s manipulating you and grooming you.”

“Yes,” she said. “He is. He would be manipulating me and grooming me anyway. He wasn’t going to leave me alone, Kate, so at first I wanted to learn as much as I could to shut him out. Then . . .”

“Then?”

“You’re right. I’m sixteen years old. He doesn’t remember what it’s like to be sixteen. He doesn’t understand it. To him everyone is a child. His own childhood was long and happy. He was a pampered prince. But I starved on the street. I learned how to read people and manipulate adults when I was ten.” She bit her lip. “I kind of thought he would be more subtle about it. Maybe if I didn’t have you and Curran, or if he had gotten me really young like he did Hugh . . .”

“You keep thinking that you’ve got this, but you don’t, Julie.”

“He manages what he shows me,” Julie said. “But I’m not you, so he doesn’t manage quite as much. You’re his daughter, his precious jewel. He’s so proud of you. I’m an expendable tool. He wants to sharpen me, use me, and then throw me away when I’ve served my purpose, just like he threw away Hugh. He’s less careful with what he lets me see.”

“All the more reason not to interact with him.”

“You could order me not to do it,” she said.

“I won’t. It’s your life, Julie. You’re a person. As much as it makes me freak out, you have to be free to make your decisions, even the wrong ones. But I think it’s dangerous and stupid, and I will tell you so.”

“In great detail. With a scary look on your face.” Julie sighed.

“Yes. But in the end, they are your decisions. You’re not a baby.”

“Sometimes you treat me like one.”

“I’ll treat you like a baby when you’re fifty. Get used to it.” I looked at Baby B. “I didn’t do it to own you. I did it to save your life. I had no choice.”

“I know. You knew I would hate it, but you did it anyway, because you love me.” Julie swallowed. “So did I. I talked to Roland even though I knew you would hate it. It’s your fault. You were my role model.”

“Great.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. That was a joke.” Julie looked down at her feet. “He’s teaching me. I think he means for me to be the next Hugh.”

“Hugh is one of the most lethal fighters I know. You’re nowhere near that. Your magic isn’t combat magic.”

“It is now,” she said.

My heart turned over in my chest. “Power words?”

She nodded. “Also incantations. Makes the power words a lot easier.”

“You always wanted combat magic.” It bothered her that she didn’t have any. At first, we put her into a private middle school. The kids there had combat magic and she didn’t. It made things harder on her. She didn’t fit in and she kept running away.

“I did,” Julie said. “Now I have it.”

That was how he got her. There were four main incentives that moved people to do things: power, wealth, knowledge, and emotion. He offered her power and knowledge, two out of four. She belonged to me, so he couldn’t take her outright, but he could poison her. He could push and shape her until he made her into another Hugh.

I wanted to believe that she wasn’t his creature. I wanted so much to believe that she had kept her independence, but the fear sat inside me like a brick.

This was what Curran must’ve felt like when I assured him I would fight the magic changing me. Ugh.

“The girl is sahanu,” Julie said.

“Mmm?”

“Adora. She’s sahanu.”

Sahanu meant “to unsheathe a blade” in ancient Akkadian. Specifically, to draw a dagger.

“And the other two on the wall?”

“Sahanu also. I was going to tell you, but Roland came out and then you were angry.”

“Are they elite troops of some sort?”

“He made them to fight Erra,” Julie said. “He showed them to me before. I think that when he felt your aunt waking up, he became concerned that he wouldn’t be able to control her, so he created the Order of Sahanu. He got the idea from a documentary on assassins.”

I must’ve moved because Baby B stirred and started whimpering. I rocked her, making shooshing noises.

“He bought a bunch of children and put them into a fort,” Julie whispered. “Somewhere in the Midwest. And brought in really good teachers. He turned the whole thing into a religion.”

“Shhh . . . Shush . . . He would never allow himself to be an object of worship.” When you let people worship you, their faith had power over you. My father would never tolerate anything imposing on his will.

“He isn’t. They worship the blood.”

Baby B opened her mouth and cried with all of the despair her little heart could muster. I got up and took her to Andrea.

“I see how it is.” She squinted at me. “While she’s quiet, everyone wants to hold her, but when she cries, give her back to her parents.”

“Yeah.” I winked at her.

Andrea gave me a long look and cuddled Baby B to her. Julie and I left the room. We walked through the Keep in silence. The walls did have ears here. In the courtyard, only my car looked out of place. Peanut was nowhere to be seen.

“How did you get here?” I asked her.

“Derek dropped me off.”

I opened the car and she climbed into the passenger seat.

“For the sahanu, there is only one way to receive the ultimate reward in the afterlife. They must die in service to your blood. If one of the blood kills them or if they manage to kill one of the blood on the orders of another, they get to the extra-special level of heaven. If they fail, they are condemned to a frozen hell. It’s sick and twisted.”

And I had no idea if she was telling me the truth or only what my father wanted me to hear. I’d have to verify this. If this was true, then it explained Adora’s panic at being set free. And now she was my dirty secret. I had no idea how to break it to Curran.

“Are you mad at me?” Julie asked, her voice small.

“No.” I was plenty mad at myself. “I’m worried.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said.

“He will hurt you. That’s what he does.”

She smiled, her face in profile with the backdrop of the evening sky behind it. She looked so young right then, but her smile was bitter.

“When I talk to him, I never forget what he did to Hugh.”

Ouch.

“Promise me you will never do that to me.”

“I will never exile you. I will never prevent you from leaving.” I sank enough magic into those words to make a dozen wards.

She hugged her knees.

“You’re my daughter, Julie. But you have to promise me that if you see me treat people the way my father does, you will leave.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Promise me, Julie.”

“Okay. I will leave. But you’re not going to do that, right?”

“Right.” I would fight to my last breath to remain me. I didn’t know if I could win, but I’d be damned if I gave up.

Hold on, Father. We will have a conversation regarding my kid and everything else. I promise you that.

WHEN WE GOT home, Curran wasn’t there. Walking into my kitchen was like putting on my favorite T-shirt. By the time I made myself and Julie a sandwich with bread, cheese, and leftover roasted meat and brewed a cup of tea, I felt almost normal. There was still time to make some phone calls.

I called Teddy Jo first.

“Yes?”

“Hello, winged devil. Are the Pegasuses rideable?”

“Kate?” He sounded startled.

“Yes.”

“Good evening to you, too.”

“Good evening, Teddy Jo. How’s life, how’s the family? Are the Pegasuses rideable?”

“First, pegasi. It’s not the original Pegasus. To answer your question, yes, they are rideable. For the right person.”

Right person, okay. I picked up a legal pad. This was going to cost me.

“You there?”

“Sure.” Hey there, I’m Kate, I came to do my twelve labors. Where do I sign up? I was really beginning to doubt the whole oracle thing. “How do I become the right person?”

A long silence.

“Teddy Jo? Are you okay?”

“Some things you just don’t do,” he said. There was an odd finality about his voice that told me he wasn’t talking about flying horses.

“Are you in trouble?” I asked.

Silence.

“Level with me. Are you in trouble?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How bad?”

“Bad.”

“How do you get out of trouble?”

Silence.

“It’s been a long day, but I don’t mind driving to your place if you would rather talk in person.” Translation: my patience is short and I will drive over to wherever you are and shake you until you tell me.

“I’m supposed to arrange a meeting between you and someone else. I was sitting here thinking about it when you called.”

“Is it the kind of meeting I don’t walk away from?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do they have on you?”

“They have something of mine. Something that I have to have to remain me.” I could hear it in his voice. Whatever they took had him scared, and Teddy Jo didn’t scare easily.

“So what you’re telling me is, I’ve been invited to an interesting meeting and you weren’t going to tell me. Not cool, Theodore. Not cool.”

“Kate . . .”

I needed to get to Mishmar as soon as I could. But judging by Teddy Jo’s voice, he needed help and he needed it now. He was doing a good job of hiding the desperation, but it was there. I had a feeling all of this was somehow connected.

“We’ve been friends, what, four years now? Five? I expected better of you. Where are we going and when?”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at your house.” His voice regained some of its normal grumpiness. “Nine o’clock. Wear boots and bring your sword.”

“I always bring my sword.”

Julie brought in a stack of mail and put a white envelope in front of me.

“Good. I’ll be bringing a harness.”

“A harness for what?”

“For whom. For you. It’s easier to carry you that way.”

I sighed. “Are we flying?”

“I’m flying. If you’re lucky, I won’t drop you.”

“If you drop me, I’ll be very put out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I hung up and opened the envelope. Inside on a crisp piece of paper embossed with roses, an outrageously curvy cursive said:

~~~

With great pleasure

We invite you to the union of

Kate Daniels

and

Curran Lennart

~~~

“What is this?”

“It’s a wedding invitation,” Julie said.

“I didn’t order any.”

Julie grinned at me. “Roman.”

Ugh. That’s right. I waved the envelope at her. “It has flowers on it.”

“Did you want gore, swords, and severed heads?” she asked.

Smartass.

Speaking of severed heads . . . I picked up the phone and dialed Sienna’s number. She picked up immediately.

“What’s the significance of the head?”

“I have no idea.”

“But you knew it was important.”

“The head is an anchor. When you look into the future, some things are out of focus, but some vital events are more clear. Think of it as coming to a crossroads. If you’ve met the conditions, you take the right fork; if you fail, you take the wrong one.”

“Okay.” That made sense.

“The head was one such point. I saw you turning the head over to some sort of law enforcement. My guess is that Roland’s people saw it, too. They knew it was an anchor, and so Roland probably took steps to make sure it didn’t happen. Did you have to fight?”

“Yes.”

“And you won?”

“Yes.”

“Then congratulations.”

Congratulations were premature. There were questions about it that bugged me. For one, if my father wanted the head so much, why did he only send one sahanu to get it?

“So these anchors, they’re like checkpoints I have to clear?”

“Yes, in a sense.”

“What’s the next one?”

“I don’t know. I’ll call you when I do.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s not too late to turn back,” Sienna said. “This is a dangerous path for you. I don’t like where it ends.”

“Are we still on track?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Then we’ll keep going. Thank you for your help.”

I hung up.

“So the head wasn’t even important?” Julie asked.

“Apparently not.”

My phone rang. I picked it up.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Control. Zen. Screaming in ancient languages would not be zen. “You don’t say. You enslaved that poor girl. You’re despicable, Father.”

“You’re a disobedient foolish child. I gave her security and serenity of purpose.”

“So you admit you sent her into my territory?”

“I admit to nothing.”

“Come on, Father. This is unbecoming. I don’t understand why you only sent one. Really, you think so little of me?”

“I sent one because I felt one was sufficient. She wasn’t meant to kill you, Blossom.”

Ah. She was only meant to disrupt my attempts to keep him from killing everyone else I cared about.

“Return Saiman to me.”

“No. Also, this is utterly ridiculous. Why do I have to choose between the meat and vegetarian option?”

“What?”

“You are the princess of Shinar. Your line stretches back beyond known history. You shouldn’t have to make your guests choose a single option. Your wedding should be a feast.”

I pried the wedding card open. Inside a smaller RSVP card said, Please indicate if you prefer a vegetarian course.

“If he can’t pay for a suitable meal for his own wedding, I will provide the kind of feast that will make the tables break. I will make sure that your guests will have a banquet they will never forget. Greater than any your eldest guest can remember and more magnificent than the youngest will ever experience again.”

So help me, I would murder Roman. I’d hack him to pieces with an axe and then hack those pieces into smaller pieces. He’d sent my father an invitation to my wedding.

“Father, you are sending mixed signals. You dispatched a woman to murder me today and now you’re upset about my wedding reception?”

“It’s not my fault you decided to marry a pauper. Besides, you enjoy a challenge.”

“I can’t talk to you anymore. I had a rough day and I’m going to bed.”

“Kate—”

“Stay away from my kid.”

“Perhaps you should ask the child what she wants.”

“I did ask her. She’s right here and now I’ll have to explain to her that Grandpa is evil and enslaves people. Good night.”

I hung up and looked at Julie.

She recoiled. “He isn’t my grandpa!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s more disconcerting to him than it is to you.”

I drained the rest of my tea and went to bed.