Magic Shifts

by Ilona Andrews

  Raphael walked into the room. He was wearing worn-out jeans and a leather jacket, and if you sent him and the leading male model down the street, he would turn more heads. There was just something about Raphael that broadcasted sex, loud and clear, and I had yet to meet a woman who didn’t respond to it. Of course, they usually did their best to hide that response because Andrea was a crack shot.

  Raphael crouched by Curran and said, “Hey. I just figured out how we all could make a lot of money.”

  “Go on,” Curran said.

  “I’m going to buy out your neighbors and offer their houses to Pack members who live in the city. Any Pack family would give up their life’s savings to live next to the former Beast Lord, and something tells me your neighbors will be extremely eager to sell.”

  Curran laughed again.

  “We’ll make a small fortune,” Raphael said. “All you have to do is go out once in a while in your warrior form and roar. Especially when it’s dark. They’ll line up to sell so fast, we’ll have to give out numbers.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m completely serious.” Raphael was grinning. “You could use the extra cash.”

  “You should get your wife to stop eating unidentified meat,” I told him.

  Curran stroked my back.

  Desandra thrust her head into the room. “You better hurry. Mahon is here.”

  • • •

  MAHON STOOD ON the lawn. Large, burly, with a curly beard, he looked like he needed a chain-mail hauberk, a mace, and a castle to defend. His beast form made his human body look weak and puny, which was why Mahon served as the Pack’s Executioner. His glower made hardened fighters run for cover. His daughter couldn’t have cared less. She stood defiant in the middle of the lawn, holding a blanket around herself with her one hand. Usually transforming from a human to a beast and then back to a human would’ve put her down for a nap, but the tilt of her chin told me she was very motivated to stay awake. George was pissed off. They both looked ready to explode. I braced myself.

  Across the street a crowd of neighbors had gathered at Heather Savell’s house. Awesome. Nothing better at a shapeshifter family brawl than conveniently placed innocent bystanders.

  “. . . Separation is ridiculous. You’ve had your fun,” Mahon said, his voice deep. “This foolishness stops now. Come home.”

  “No.” If George had freezing powers, that one word would’ve turned her dad into an icicle.

  “You are not leaving the Pack.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Mahon exhaled rage. “For what?” His voice boomed. “For some boy?”

  George bared her teeth. “He isn’t a boy. He is a man. My man. The one I chose.”

  “Yes, just like you chose Aidan before, and what’s-his-face, Nathan. This will pass. Don’t throw your life away.”

  “Staying with you would be throwing my life away. You want me to marry a werebear and be a good little brood mare.”

  Oh boy.

  “I want you to stay with your family!” Mahon roared.

  “Do not raise your voice at me!” George roared back.

  “We raised you, we clothed you, we fed you, we educated you, and this is how you repay us?”

  “You did all the things that parents are legally obligated to do. Congratulations, Dad. You weren’t a neglectful parent. Thank you. It doesn’t give you the right to shackle me for the rest of my life. You’re not entitled to it. This is my life and I will live it.”

  “She isn’t leaving your family,” Thomas said. “She’s leaving the Pack.”

  “The hell she is.” Mahon seemed to get bigger somehow, his face darker. He pointed at Curran. “Is this it? Is he your example? You want to throw it all away because some . . . human couldn’t stand living in the Keep? She nagged at him and nagged at him until he gave in and now look at him. Years wasted! Years! And we are all worse off for it. He thinks with his dick, but you, you were always smarter than that.”

  It’s funny how loud horrified silence can be.

  Curran laughed.

  Mahon stared at him, incredulous.

  Across the street Heather was gaping at me. I smiled and waved at her.

  “What about this is funny?” Mahon roared. “You were supposed to be the Beast Lord. You were supposed to start a legacy!”

  “I’m happy,” Curran told him. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

  “It’s not about being happy! It’s about duty and obligations and doing something with your life!”

  “What about your obligations?” Curran asked, his voice mild. “What was your duty to my mate when I was comatose?”

  Mahon opened his mouth.

  “Did you protect her?” Curran asked. “Did you help her? Did you do anything to support this future legacy?”

  “She was not a proper mate. She will never be a proper mate. She is a human!”

  Well, of course.

  “You don’t get to decide that.” Curran said. “It isn’t your place. I chose her. I led the Pack for seventeen years and it failed me when I needed it most. You failed me.”

  Mahon recoiled.

  “My obligation to the Pack is over,” Curran said. “You failed to uphold your end of the bargain.”

  “Speaking of duty,” George put in. “What the hell were you thinking, sending a fifteen-year-old against Andorf? He was a berserk bear with years of experience and Curran could barely shave. Why didn’t you go, Dad?”

  “Be quiet,” Mahon snapped. “You were barely twelve. You have no idea what was involved. I sent him because we needed a leader. Because the packs wouldn’t follow me!”

  I went and sat by Andrea. I’d had a long day and I was tired of standing.

  “So your convenience and lofty ideals justified sending a child to the slaughter and then unloading the burden of being in charge of people’s lives on him?” George raised her eyebrows. “So you could stand behind the throne and have fun playing kingmaker? You should ask yourself, Dad, why all your children want to escape. Maybe we’re not the problem.”

  “This is it!” Mahon roared. “This ends now. You’re coming with me, if I have to carry you. You’re not separating from the Pack. I will put you under lock and—”

  “Enough.” Jim’s voice cut through Mahon’s roar like a knife.

  “—key, I’ll—”

  “I said, enough!” Jim snarled. “No member of the Pack will interfere with separation. No member of the Pack will be restrained against her will because her father is on a power trip. Mind your conduct, Alpha.”

  If I slow-clapped, Mahon’s head would probably explode.

  “You need to rethink that,” Mahon told him.

  “You will not break the law you yourself helped put in place. The law applies to everyone.” Jim glared at Mahon. “You will obey it. If you find yourself unable to follow the law, step down and Clan Heavy will find an alpha who can.”

  “You—” Mahon began.

  “I am the Beast Lord,” Jim said.

  “Not for long,” Mahon snarled.

  “Is that a challenge?” Jim bared his teeth. Dali rose from her spot in the driveway and stalked over, paw over massive paw, like a silent majestic shadow, and stood beside her mate, her blue eyes staring at Mahon with unyielding intensity.

  Mahon glanced at Curran.

  Curran shook his head.

  “You would side with them against me?” Mahon looked shocked.

  “You’re wrong,” Curran told him. “The law is the law whether you like it or not. Either you’re an alpha and you uphold the law, or you are not.”

  “It’s always like that with you,” George said. “You’ve been after Curran for years to find a mate, and when he found one, you didn’t approve of her, so you decided that none of the things you were supposed to do as his father applied. You’ve be
en asking me for years when I planned to settle down, and when I did, you didn’t like him either. Now he’s disappeared and it’s your responsibility as an alpha to look for him, but you don’t like it, so you chose not to do it. All your talk of duty and obligations means nothing. You think you know better than any of us. You don’t. Look at what you’re doing, Dad. You’re challenging the Beast Lord you swore allegiance to because you don’t like the man your daughter loves. Because it hurt some weird little place in your pride. This is how you serve and lead your clan. Don’t you have any integrity at all?”

  A burning rock the size of a basketball streaked across the sky and landed in the street in front of our house. I lunged in front of Andrea, trying to shield her. The explosion shook the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Andrea hauled me back. “I’m a shapeshifter. I regenerate!”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  A brilliant golden flame ten feet high and five feet wide ignited in the middle of the street. Inside it, Eduardo writhed in his cage. The ifrit was punishing Eduardo because we’d killed the bull.

  A voice rolled through the street, a voice charged with inhuman power that prickled against my skin like static. It raised every hair on the back of my arms. “All who are guilty will die. Witness the betrayer spawn. See his suffering.”

  George ran. I jumped to my feet and chased her. Jim made a grab for her, but he wasn’t fast enough. George dashed into the street, right into the fire. It broke apart into a thousand sparks and transformed into a thirty-foot-long, glowing snake.

  George screamed at the top of her lungs. It was a scream of rage and pain, rolled into one horrible, soul-crushing sound. She screamed as if something inside her had torn and nothing could put it back together.

  The snake lunged at her. George grabbed it by its neck, heaved it upright, and slammed the body against the pavement. The snake hissed, the massive coils trying to wind around George and crush her. The werebear planted one foot on the snake. The muscles on her arm flexed and she tore the reptile in two. The light went out of the snake’s eyes, but George didn’t stop. She mauled and ripped the creature again and again, venting her grief on its body.

  We watched her rage, tears welling in her eyes, until she finally let it go, and then Curran and I led her back into the house off the street.

  CHAPTER

  18

  I OPENED MY eyes. I lay in our bed, on my side. Something felt odd. I puzzled over it and realized Curran wasn’t with me.

  The blackout curtains had turned our bedroom into a quiet, dark place. I had no idea what time it was. After George had calmed down, Lyc-V finally took its toll and she crashed in one of our spare bedrooms. I tried my best to describe the building I’d seen in the vision to Raphael. He owned a reclamation company that took useful things out of crumbling skyscrapers, and he had files on just about every major ruin in the city. He wrote everything down, but I could tell nothing clicked with him. My description had been too generic. He said he would look through his files and Dali said that she would send a survey team out to the buildings Raphael identified. Curran told me that when he had dropped Derek off at the address the Clerk had given us for the gig Eduardo had turned down, he had recognized the scent permeating the area. It belonged to the man who’d stalked Eduardo. We still didn’t know who he was or why he was obsessing. It was nice that two and two fit together, but so far they still equaled twelve, which didn’t help us.

  The djinn spoke English this time and it wasn’t just a single word. He was growing in power. Nobody liked that news.

  Finally everyone left. I dragged myself upstairs, took a long shower, and collapsed on the bed. I had woken up when Curran came in and went into the bathroom to wash the blood off. He never came out of the bathroom. I would’ve sensed him moving. Exhausted or not, my instincts still worked.

  I slipped out of the bed, walked across the slick wooden floor to the bathroom, and nudged the door with my fingertips. He was sitting in our enormous cast-iron bathtub, leaning back, his eyes closed. The tub was his favorite place aside from our bed. Huge, custom-made to accommodate him even in his lion-form with more than enough room to spare, the tub was heated with electricity during tech and with a magic volcanic rock at other times. Usually his face was relaxed when he soaked, but right now it looked tight. He was almost frowning, his thick eyebrows furrowed, the line of his square jaw hard.

  There was something I’d been wanting to do, ever since I woke up in the hospital bed and saw him stalking through my room, worried and angry, all coiled strength and hard will.

  I slipped off my T-shirt. My panties followed and I walked naked to the tub. Tubs always got me into trouble. I touched my fingers to the water. It was near scalding.

  Worth it.

  I stepped into the water. It came midway to my thigh.

  His eyes stayed closed.

  I bent my knees and sank in on top of him, straddling him. My thighs brushed against his long lean legs.

  Curran’s eyes snapped open, a feral, piercing gray. I pressed my lips against his and licked his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue.

  Come back to me. Come out of whatever dark place you’re in and feel me instead.

  He opened his mouth and kissed me back, his fingers tightening on my back. I felt him harden under me. His tongue slid into my mouth, the kiss deepened, and I moved on top of him, my body hot and pliant. He made a low growling noise in his throat, harsh and male, filled with raw need, and I felt him leave whatever he was thinking behind. He was mine now. There was no worry, no dread, no tomorrow. There was only us and now.

  He broke the kiss and nipped my neck, inhaling my scent, and I arched my spine, rubbing against him, wanting to feel him inside me, wanting more. His hands locked on my butt and he pulled me closer, rough and hard, in a single possessive movement. His mouth closed on my breast, his tongue pressing against my nipple, and I nearly melted.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

  He kissed me again, his body rock hard and rigid under me. I slid my hands up his carved chest. His skin was as scalding as the water. I dragged my hands up his muscular shoulders and ran my fingers through his short damp hair, trying not to lose all control. His hand slid lower, down my back, across my butt, across my leg, brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He touched me. I jerked and broke away from his lips, as his hand covered me. His fingers slipped inside me, his thumb brushing the most sensitive spot, dragging a moan from me. More. More, please.

  His skilled fingers dipped in and out, teasing, stroking, and my body gave in to his rhythm. Whatever control I had vanished. I rode his hand. He watched me, his gray eyes filled with intense need, and it made me hotter. My breasts ached. A low steady pressure pooled in the bottom of my stomach, threatening to break.

  “Come for me,” he told me, his voice commanding. “Come for me, baby.”

  My body clenched around his fingers, waves of pleasure drowning me. I slumped back, limp and boneless, but he caught me. “Not yet.”

  His fingers kept going, stroking me. My breath was coming out in ragged gasps. My world shrank to the movement of his fingers.

  “Again,” he told me.

  No, there couldn’t possibly be an again . . .

  I climaxed again, shuddering, held in place by his hands as the orgasm rocked me. I felt heavy and exhausted, floating in my private hot bliss, the vapor rising from the water swirling around me. This was what happiness felt like.

  He thrust inside me, the thick length of him stretching me. My body clenched around him, still rippling with the echoes of a climax, and he groaned.

  “Your turn,” I breathed.

  “Not yet.”

  I leaned on the wall with one hand to steady myself and rode him, matching his movement, squeezing him. He gritted his teeth. I could feel him pulling ba
ck, trying to disconnect and slow himself down. Oh no, he wasn’t going to last, because I wanted him to come. I wanted him to float in the bliss with me and I had no plans to play fair. I slid my right hand down into the water and my fingers closed around the base of his shaft with him still inside me. He gasped. I pumped him, sliding up and down.

  “Kate . . .” he growled.

  “I love it,” I whispered, pumping him again. “I love when you do this to me. I love when you’re inside me.”

  He snarled and flipped me over. I landed on my knees, catching the edge of the tub with my hands. He buried one hand in my hair and thrust into me from behind, plunging deep, building to a fast hard rhythm. Whatever little semblance of control was gone now and he pounded into me. I lost myself to it, each powerful thrust pushing me closer and closer to the edge, until I finally hurtled over it. He shuddered inside me and we sank into the water together.

  • • •

  THE WATER WAS too hot, but I had no strength to get out. I felt exhausted and drunk, so I just lay there, my head on his chest. He was sliding his fingertips up and down my arm. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed. A slight beginning of a smile curved his lips.

  “Let’s not go anywhere,” I told him.

  “The magic is up,” he said quietly.

  “And?”

  “If we don’t show up for dinner, your father will manifest in this bathroom.”

  “Maybe you can scare him away with full frontal,” I said.

  He laughed.

  “What were you thinking about before I came in here?” I asked.

  “I was thinking that I never got to know my father,” he said. “All I recall of him are childhood memories. I have no idea what kind of man he was or what he stood for. Mahon became my father, but his approval always felt conditional. Still, he’s all I got. You had Voron.”

  “Who was royally fucked up,” I said. “Now I have Roland. That kind of says it all right there. My only living blood relative is a megalomaniac with cosmic power and an unshakable belief that he knows best.” And saying it out loud just hammered it home. Ugh. “We just don’t have the best luck with fathers. But you knew all that.”