Magic Shifts

by Ilona Andrews

  He would go for the body. The value of a corpse possessed and transformed by the djinn would mean more to Roland than the legal problems.

  I flicked my sword, warming up my wrist. This was about to get bloody.

  Ghastek raised his hand. The undead leaned forward as one.

  “Stay next to me,” I told Julie.

  Sirens howled, growing closer and closer. A fleet of Biohazard and PAD vehicles turned the corner, filling up the street. Ghastek stared at them for a long moment. “Get the legal department.”

  I looked up at Nick. “It’s an earring. About the size of a plum. He wore it like a piercing on his chest.”

  He gave no indication he heard me. You’re welcome.

  “The ifrit is moving from host to host in an attempt to acquire a more powerful host. You need to secure the earring.”

  Nick rode off without saying a word.

  “Fuck.”

  “Did you expect gratitude?” Toakasa asked.

  “No. I expect him to contain the magic so we don’t have another giant.” I’d have to find Luther. He would at least listen to reason.

  A woman ran up to me and thrust a piece of paper into my hand. I glanced at it. A bill for eighty-two thousand dollars. “What the hell is this?”

  “The cost of the destroyed vampire,” the journeywoman chirped. “Have a nice day.”

  • • •

  I REFUSED TO leave until the earring had been found. It took four hours for Biohazard to sift through the gory carcass, quarantining each section of the corpse they had removed. I sat on the edge of the Mole Hole and watched them do it. Julie fell asleep in the car. For a while the People’s lawyers and Biohazard’s lawyers squabbled over who would get the earring when it was finally found, but eventually they too grew quiet and just watched.

  Biohazard techs gingerly placed it into a box carved from a cube of salt, which was then placed into a plastic box lined with volcanic rock. Volcanic rock had been exposed to such high temperatures that magically it was found to be inert and impervious to all types of fire magic.

  The techs sealed the box and then Nick promptly confiscated it.

  “You can’t do that!” If Luther got any more worked up, he would suffer apoplexy right here. He was wearing a biohazard containment suit, and he’d taken his helmet off to talk. “It needs to be examined and studied.”

  “Examined how?” Nick asked. “Are you planning on having tea with it and asking it about its family? We know it’s a djinn. We must contain it. That’s all that matters.”

  Luther turned to his lawyers, who by now had lost all semblance of professionalism and lounged on blankets next to the People’s lawyers, who were sharing their coffee. “Can he do this?”

  “Yep,” a Hispanic female lawyer said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  “How?”

  “You gave him that power when you signed the petition,” a thin, dark-skinned, male lawyer told him. “I told you not to sign it.”

  Nick placed the box in his saddlebag.

  “The corpses exhibited reactive metamorphosis in every single case,” I told him loud enough for Luther to hear. “Except this one. That means the djinn wants you to have that box. He wants a more capable host and we don’t know what his endgame is. Nick, do not put it into the Vault where every knight can have access to it.”

  Nick ignored me. Right. I guess we knew where we stood. I had a feeling my parentage and the fact that he somehow shared his last name with my deceased guardian had a great deal to do with it, but now wasn’t the time or the place to discuss any of it.

  “Whatever you think of me, you know I wouldn’t lie to you about it. Do not put that box on a shelf in the Vault where anybody can get to it.”

  Nothing. Big blank wall. God, this night sucked so much.

  Luther waved his arms at the lawyers. “Can’t you contest it or something? He’s about to ride off with it.”

  “You’re screwed,” one of the People’s male lawyers told him. “The Order petition is ironclad.”

  “What he said,” the female lawyer with glasses said. “So does this mean we’re done here?”

  “You’re done when you get me that body,” Ghastek snapped.

  The lawyers collectively groaned.

  Nick rode off into the night.

  “If a djinn possesses a knight of the Order, we’re screwed,” I told Luther. “Look what he did with a merc.”

  Luther pondered the body below for a long moment, punched the air, kicked it a few times, and threw his helmet on the ground.

  Sometimes being a law-abiding citizen really sucked. I went to the Jeep to wake Julie up. I’d had my fill of Atlanta for one night.

  CHAPTER

  17

  “WE ARE NOT going to tell him about the giant,” I told Julie.

  The sun was rising and the morning promised to be lovely. I had given Curran my word that I would not attack a giant, and I’d broken it. I didn’t want to fight with him now. I didn’t want to fight with him, period, but especially now. A week ago I would’ve said our relationship was rock solid. A lot had happened in a week and we were both really stressed-out. Today I wasn’t sure how far I could push him. I just didn’t know. I was too tired to handle it right now.

  Also I needed sleep. And food. I would kill for food. And a shower. And sleep. I had to stop thinking in circles. I had briefly considered going to Cutting Edge to shower, but Curran would’ve smelled the blood on me anyway. It would take a very long soak before I managed to get it all out of my hair and off my skin, and I just wanted to go home.

  I would have to tell Curran about it eventually, because we had agreed not to lie to each other and because the ifrit was a vindictive sonovabitch. I had insulted him and nuked his giant again. Well, technically Nick had, but I had played a large part in it. That meant he would likely send us a lovely surprise when he regained his magic. Too bad there was no way to tell how long that would be.

  Julie opened her eyes so wide, you’d think a purple flying elephant had landed in front of us. “Are you asking me to lie?”

  So when it suited her purposes, Julie had no problem bending the truth, but when I suggested it, there was shock and outrage. How exactly did that work? “No, I’m telling you not to volunteer information.”

  “What if he asks me?”

  “Tell him to ask me.”

  “Are you and Curran going to get a divorce?” Julie asked, her voice small.

  “We can’t get a divorce. We’re not married.”

  “Oh God, I’ll be one of those kids.”

  “One of what kids?”

  “With weekend parents.”

  “Julie, damn it, we are not getting a divorce . . . Why the hell are six cars parked in our driveway?”

  We both stared at the completely full driveway, occupied by four Pack Jeeps; Pooki, which was Dali’s Plymouth Prowler; and a sleek-looking silver Ferrari, which was Raphael’s favorite ride.

  “Something happened,” Julie said.

  I parked fifty yards away, just in case, and hightailed it to the door. The door handle turned in my hand. Unlocked. I walked in, Julie at my heels.

  “I want to know why nobody told me she almost died!” Andrea said.

  I followed her voice and stepped into the kitchen. She sat at the table, eating handfuls of trail mix. Raphael sat next to her, stroking her back.

  “I’m her best friend. I had a right to know!”

  “You had a right to know?” George waved her arm. “I’m directly involved in this and nobody told me.”

  “We all had a right to know,” Robert said, one hand over the phone receiver’s mouthpiece. His husband, Thomas, stood next to him, drinking coffee out of a mug with a kitten on it. Both alphas of Clan Rat were in attendance.

  “She claimed the city. It’s a matter of
Pack security,” Robert said, then put a hand over his free ear and went back to his phone call.

  “It’s a matter of Kate and Curran,” Dali said.

  Jim dragged his hand over his face. “You weren’t told because you would bicker about it all day and by the time you were done deciding, she would’ve been dead.”

  “Oh please,” Desandra said. “It’s not like we’re children.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Dali told her.

  The blond alpha of Clan Wolf winked at her.

  Curran stood near the stove, behind everyone. Our gazes met. Relief showed in his eyes and then I saw the precise moment he realized I was covered in gore. A gold fire sheathed his irises.

  “It was my decision,” Jim said. “Deal with it.”

  “What is that smell?” Andrea turned. Suddenly everything went quiet.

  “The scouts report there was a giant incident near the Casino,” Robert said, hanging up.

  “What kind of a giant incident?” Desandra asked.

  Curran’s face was terrible.

  “An incident with a giant in it,” Robert clarified, and saw me.

  Curran moved.

  One moment I was standing and then I was in the hallway, my feet in the empty air. He’d clamped his hands on my shoulders and lifted me to his face. His voice was glacial. “One thing. I asked you to do one thing.”

  He was really pissed off. I would’ve preferred it if he’d roared.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Something thudded against the front door.

  “You gave me your word and you broke it.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I had no choice. I was trying to save Rowena.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “Reckless, stupid, wrong, broke your trust, I’m sorry,” I told him. “Don’t be mad at me.”

  The door thudded again. Curran dropped me down and jerked it open. “WHAT?”

  A thirty-foot-tall bull with enormous metal horns glared back at us with eyes the size of teacups. Flames sheathed its huge legs, flaring around its hooves. The bull opened its maw and vomited fire.

  Curran spun me around, clamping me to his chest, his back to the flames.

  The fire smashed into the invisible shield of the house ward and splashed back, falling harmlessly to the ground. Curran thrust me aside. His human body tore and a seven-and-a-half-foot monster spilled out and charged the bull.

  The eight shapeshifters in my kitchen went furry as one and sprinted through the hallway past me, followed by Grendel barking his head off.

  “Alive!” I called after them. “We need to ask him some . . .”

  The bull ducked his head, ready to gore Curran. Curran grabbed the bull’s left horn and punched the enormous bovine in the face. The bull’s head snapped to the side, but Curran jerked it back and hammered another hard punch into its skull.

  Never mind.

  Curran punched it again and again, his fist like a jackhammer, smashing into the bone. The bull attempted to back up, jerking its head, trying to free its horn, but Curran held on and kept punching. Blood flew from the side of the bull’s head. The monster pushed forward, trying to bulldoze Curran off his feet. Curran locked both hands on the bull’s horns and thrust his clawed feet into the ground. Muscles bulged under his gray fur, the faint dark stripes standing out like whip marks.

  Curran’s feet slid and stopped. They struggled, face to face, the bull’s maddened fiery eyes staring into Curran’s ice-cold gray. The shapeshifters waited in a ragged semicircle.

  The bull strained, but Curran held it.

  Holy shit.

  The bull opened its mouth and bellowed. Curran roared back, the sound of pure fury. Tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck.

  Fire flared, sheathing the bull’s sides. Curran vaulted onto its back, one hand still on the horn. His enormous leonine jaws gaped open and Curran bit into the side of the bull’s throat. The monster screamed and the shapeshifters ripped into the bovine monster, oblivious to the flames.

  “This is good,” a wererat in a warrior form said next to me in Robert’s voice. “He was very stressed-out. Excuse me.”

  He pushed past me and joined the slaughter. I slumped against the door frame and watched.

  • • •

  “WILL YOU STOP eating it,” I growled.

  “No,” Andrea said. She was sitting on the ground and chewing on some unidentifiable chunk of bull flesh.

  “It’s a piece of meat from something a djinn summoned.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Who else would send a bull made of fire to my house after I helped kill a djinn-possessed giant? Stop eating. It might have been a person,” I told her.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Andrea! You don’t know what this will do to the baby!”

  “It will make it nice and strong.” Andrea bit into the piece of meat, shredding it with her sharp bouda teeth.

  “It’s evidence.”

  “You have all that evidence over there.” She waved at the rest of the bull corpse, spread in about a hundred pieces across our lawn. Curran had torn it to pieces with his bare hands. “I’ve been starving all day and eating that bird-food trail mix. I’m pregnant, hormonal, and tired, and I am damn hungry. I’m going to sit here and eat my meat.”

  “She’s right,” Desandra told me, biting into a chunk. “It’s really decent. Tastes like grass-fed Angus to me. So kind of your fiancé to tenderize it.”

  That was it. I was done. I just didn’t even care anymore.

  I marched my way up the driveway to the house. An enormous white tiger sprawled in my driveway, flicking her tail at a small flock of butterflies that bounced on bright wings around her brilliant white fur. I circled Dali and the butterflies and went inside. Curran sat on a couch in the living room. He was back in his human skin. The couch was covered in blood. That was fine. I was having second thoughts about the color anyway.

  I sat next to him. Watching him rip the bull apart wasn’t just frightening. It was one of those things I would never forget. It was imprinted in my brain. Curran’s control was absolute, so when he opened the door and the feral lethal monster shot out and reveled in unrestrained destruction, it made your blood run cold. He’d had less outlet than usual since we moved out of the Keep. There people recognized what he was. If he wanted something, he had only to pick up the phone and people would run to do his bidding. Here, he was trying his best to be a good considerate neighbor. To be a normal human, not in the true sense of the word, but in the meaning other suburban families would accept and find nonthreatening. I hadn’t fully understood how hard it was for him until now.

  It was over. People saw it. They stopped and stared, and there was no going back. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

  “Julie asked me if we are getting a divorce,” I told him.

  No response.

  “I told her that we couldn’t get one since we aren’t married.”

  Silence.

  “I understand now,” I told him. “You left the Pack for me and threw it all away, because you thought we would have a happy peaceful life together. You’ve been so good and assumed this calm, nice role of a man who lives in the suburbs with his family and instead this messed-up crap keeps happening. I—”

  He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him.

  I shut up.

  We sat together on the couch.

  “I didn’t touch the giant. I didn’t use any power words. I only threw some undead blood at it. I just got splattered with gore.” I almost said I promise but held my tongue.

  “I will kill anything that tries to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “I know. I will kill anything that tries to hurt you,” I told him.

  Curran looked at me. “I just can’t figure out what to do when y
ou hurt yourself. Who am I mad at?”

  I opened my mouth. Nothing smart came to mind. “If anyone can figure it out, it would be you. You’re the only one who’ll put up with me.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I have some bad news.” Might as well drop all of the shoes at the same time.

  “Tell me.”

  “The Order claimed the earring that houses the ifrit. They won’t let anyone examine it. Eduardo is being held in some abandoned building. He is starving and we have no way to know which building he’s in. I saw him in a vision. He doesn’t have long.”

  “Anything else?” Curran asked, his voice even.

  “Yes. My father is building a tower near Lawrenceville. He wants to have dinner tonight. At Applebee’s.”

  The arm holding me shook. I glanced at him. Curran was laughing.

  “I love you,” I told him. “I don’t give a crap what anybody thinks or says. You don’t have to be anyone or anything but you, Curran. Don’t do this for me, because I just want you.”

  “You realize all of the neighbors are going to move, right?”

  “Screw them. Good riddance. I couldn’t care less if we fit in with them or don’t. I never wanted the ‘good’ neighborhood or to be seen as ‘normal.’ I just wanted to live in a house with you and Julie. You can be yourself. You let me be myself, so it’s only fair. Stop trying so hard to fit in. I love you because you don’t.”

  He kissed my hair.

  “Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” I asked.

  “Remember how we sent George to have a subtle conversation with Patrick?”

  Oh no. “I’m afraid to ask . . .”

  “He tried to lecture her on her duty to the Clan and she told him to shut up. He told her he would take her in hand for her dad.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds. “Is he alive?”

  “Oh yes. She didn’t kill him. Both of his legs are broken, but he is alive.”

  “Was that an official challenge?”

  “No, they are classifying it as a family dispute, since George decided to separate and isn’t in the clan chain of command anymore.”