Magic Binds
Page 88

“I’ll need different clothes. A suit.”
“We can get that.”
“Okay,” he said, and started toward the exit.
I leaned into Barabas’s office. “Do you want to come help pick out a suit for Christopher?”
“No,” Barabas said firmly, tapping a stack of papers against his desk to even it out.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need to see him in a suit.”
Curran walked over to me. “Parks came back from the Casino. He says they are refusing customers.”
They had been given the order to evacuate. We had to get to them now.
• • •
I SAT IN the passenger seat of our car and watched Julie walk toward the Casino. The beautiful white palace all but floated above the parking lot. She strode between the long stretches of rectangular fountains carrying the green and blue standard.
Next to me Curran sat quietly, watching Julie. He reached over and covered my hand with his.
“Nervous, ass kicker?”
“No. I don’t want to kill them.” I would if I had to. I wished I didn’t have to. The technology was up. If I went in there during magic, I could’ve used it to impress the navigators.
“You can do this. You will walk in there like you own the place and you will kick ass. Don’t let them think and don’t give them any reason to doubt. Walk in and hit them with everything you’ve got.”
In my head, I kept going through the People’s leadership. The lineup had changed over the years. Currently, there were eight Masters of the Dead. First, Ghastek and Rowena. Orlando Beasley, a trim, short black man with smart eyes and a quiet, cultured voice. Constance Hyde, an older woman with a platinum head of hair who always looked mildly displeased. Ryan Kelly, tall, well-built and well-groomed, every inch a CEO, except for his purple Mohawk. Filipa, a Hispanic woman, about my age, who wore glasses with a red rim and never said anything in my presence. Toakasu Kakau, a dark-eyed woman of Tongan ancestry, in her forties, with a white smile and the kind of no-nonsense gaze that stopped you in your tracks. Dennis Pillman, a tall, thin man with a two-thousand-dollar haircut, whose suits were always a size too large.
Julie walked through the gates into the Casino.
“It’s time,” my aunt said in my ear.
I stepped out of the car and followed Julie. Curran walked next to me. Adora shadowed me on the right. She’d changed back into her sahanu outfit, but instead of purple she’d now added a green-and-blue scarf. I didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
Christopher Steed walked on Curran’s left. Barabas had no idea what he was missing. The coal-black suit combined with Christopher’s nearly white hair made a killer impression. The seamstress in the shop had actually stammered while cutting and sewing the slits for his wings. Time was short, but the suit was a necessity. The Masters of the Dead had to recognize him.
“Feel the land,” Erra said in my ear. “Feel it breathe.”
It felt odd after last night. Before, the land was an ocean, and I stood within it, distinct and separate, like a rock. Now the ocean and I had melded. I was no longer a rock. I was . . . I didn’t know what the hell I was. A tangle of seaweed, a current, something that stretched to the farthest reaches of my land. Still distinct, but no longer separate. And I couldn’t touch any of that magic with the technology up. Not even a drop. My aunt had been clear on that.
“This is your land,” Erra said. “You protect it. Your blood waters it. You’ve bonded with it for months. Reach deep inside you and sacrifice for its sake.”
The Casino loomed, the vampires within it a constellation of bright red lights in my mind. The two men guarding the entrance saw us coming and stared straight ahead, determined not to notice us. Denial was the better part of valor.
I needed to convince Ghastek and the Masters of the Dead. Once they committed themselves, the rest would follow. I had to get them to see me not as Kate Daniels, but as my father’s daughter.
I walked onto the Casino’s main floor. Usually the din of slots hung above the floor, but today the casino was completely silent. Journeymen moved back and forth, carrying boxes. Julie stood in the middle of the open space, holding her standard. My standard. The journeymen ignored her.
Rowena emerged from the side entrance and approached me. She was the only woman I knew who could be equally radiant in a gown or a business pantsuit like she wore now.
“Sharrim, we are honored by your presence. You caught us at a busy time, unfortunately.”
“Oh?” “Oh” was nice and neutral.
“We’ve received some orders from headquarters.” Rowena stepped closer to me and whispered, her voice urgent. “You should leave, Kate. It’s not safe for you here.”
“He’s pulling them out of the city,” Christopher said.
Rowena glanced at him and clamped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened. She backed away toward the stairwell and almost walked into Ghastek as he descended the stairs. The remaining six Masters of the Dead followed Ghastek. The gang was all here. They looked like they had left a board meeting.
Ghastek saw us. His gaze fixed on Christopher.
“Nice touch, Kate. But this man is not Christopher Steed,” he said, making sure his voice carried. “This is Saiman. This woman isn’t sahanu, although she’s dressed like one. Clothes are easy to acquire.”
Ghastek two, Kate zero.
“Five miles, sixteen hundred and thirty-five yards,” Christopher said.
Ghastek winced.
“What is that?” Ryan Kelly asked.
“That’s his real range,” Christopher said. “This is how far he can send a vampire before risking losing the connection with its mind.”
“You’re wrong,” Filipa said. Apparently she was able to talk.
“No,” Christopher said. “That’s why I passed you over, Matthew.”
Ghastek took a step back. Christopher had used his real name.
“It wasn’t politics and it wasn’t your petty fight with Kowalski. It was because you lied and shortened your range by two hundred yards on your official evaluations. You didn’t want me to know the full extent of your power. I required complete transparency.”
Curran smiled next to me.
“Very well,” Ghastek said. “You have Steed. This changes nothing.”