Magic Breaks
Page 37

“To prevent this conflict. Perhaps it was a lovers’ quarrel,” Ghastek said. “Perhaps she wanted to rob him. I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care at the moment. Can you prove that she is the killer and not some sacrificial lamb?”
“You’re welcome to run her DNA. It will match what’s on Mulradin.”
“Are you prepared to turn her over to us?”
“No.”
Ghastek leaned forward. “Kate, I hate to resort to threats, but there is a certain responsibility you and I both have to the people we’re leading in this conflict . . .”
To the left of him, three horsemen emerged from under the trees. Beau or not Beau?
“The casualties and financial costs of war will be catastrophic,” Ghastek said. “I understand that you’re counting on the help of whatever navigator you hired, but I assure you, we’re more than capable of neutralizing him or her.”
“What navigator?”
“The one who assisted you last night at the Conclave.”
What was he on about?
Oh.
Apparently I had hidden too well. For all of his intelligence, Ghastek still hadn’t put two and two together. He knew with absolute certainty that I couldn’t pilot vampires. He had seen me not pilot them on numerous occasions. In his mind, I couldn’t possibly do it, so I had to have hired someone else and that someone must’ve grabbed control of the vampires at the Conclave. Right.
“We have a duty to avert this,” Ghastek said.
“You’re right. You should send your undead army home and we’ll discuss this like reasonable people.”
Ghastek sighed. “I’m a reactive party to the bloodshed.”
“Ghastek, you’re an intelligent man. You’re standing here wearing ridiculous fatigues and getting ready to assault a place full of families and children with a horde of vampires. Does this seem right to you?”
Ghastek’s face jerked. “The concepts of right or wrong are inconsequential in this case.”
“The concepts of right or wrong are always consequential. It can’t be situational or it’s not right or wrong.”
“I didn’t come here to debate ethical obligations with you,” Ghastek said.
“You opened the door. I just walked through it.”
“You’re harboring a fugitive. Deliver her to our custody.”
A shout made me turn. A man jumped from the wall of the Keep and sprinted to us. Brandon, Jennifer’s pet wolf. Now what? If he did anything to disrupt this, I’d break his neck.
Brandon dashed across the snow and leaped into the circle. He was clutching something in his hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jim snarled.
Brandon dodged him. He opened his fingers and I caught a flash of what he was holding—Jennifer’s water bottle. He ripped the cap off it and hurled the liquid at me.
I moved, but not fast enough. Cold water splashed my right cheek, soaking my hair. Behind me, Ghastek threw his hands up, and what missed me landed on his fingers. The Master of the Dead stared, bewildered, water dripping from hands. His eyes bulged in angry confusion.
Jim moved. His hand closed on Brandon’s wrist and twisted. Brandon dropped to his knees into the snow, his arm wrenched out of its socket.
The whole world had gone nuts on me. I couldn’t even get angry anymore. I’d run out of rage.
“It’s done,” the blond man squeezed out. “I did it for her.”
What the hell? I would kill Jennifer. I would do it myself and save Desandra the trouble.
Jim twisted his arm, bending him into a pretzel. “I’ll just be a minute.”
He grabbed Brandon by his collar and dragged him out of the circle toward the Keep. The gates opened just enough to let a person pass, and Derek and another shapeshifter shot out. Jim shoved Brandon in their direction, turned around, and came back into the circle.
Ghastek finally regained his ability to speak. “How dare you? Is this an insult?”
“Yes,” I told him. “But to me, not to you. My deepest apologies.”
Hugh chuckled.
Derek and the other shapeshifter muscled Brandon back behind the doors.
Ghastek opened his mouth. No words came out. He was obviously struggling to get himself under control.
“I’m very sorry,” I repeated. Now I was apologizing to the man who was threatening to kill me. Here’s hoping my arteries didn’t explode from the pressure.
“This is outrageous.”
“So is dropping loose vampires into the middle of a Conclave meeting.”
Ghastek clamped his mouth shut.
“We will take the accused now,” Rowena said.
The three riders drew closer. Sheriff hats. It had to be Beau.
“And if we give her to you? What then? A lynching? Maybe you’ll burn her at the stake? Last time I checked we at least pretended we were civilized people.”
Ghastek locked his teeth. He kept a pair of chains used in witch trials on the wall of his office. The reminder of witch burnings had hit home.
“She will be given every opportunity to prove her innocence,” Rowena said.
“Yes, she will,” Jim said. “We’re turning her over to human law enforcement.”
Hugh’s face lost its half-smile. Oh no. Did you find half a worm in the apple you just bit?
“That would be extremely unwise,” Ghastek said.
“Why?”
“For one, it exposes both of our factions to public scrutiny,” Rowena said.
“I thought you were all about avoiding bloodshed,” Jim said.
I gave Ghastek my best psycho smile. “I think we could all benefit from a little transparency.”
“You’re f**king up,” Hugh said from his horse.
“Shut the hell up,” I told him. “Nobody’s talking to you.”
“You’re bluffing,” Hugh said. “You won’t find anyone to take her.”
I pointed to the approaching riders.
Ghastek turned to glance over his shoulder. Beau and two deputies, a short compact man with red hair and a Hispanic woman in her forties, were closing in.
“Beau Clayton?” Ghastek dipped his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He has no jurisdiction here.”
“Yes he does. Those woods over there are in Milton County.”
Hugh’s eyes turned dark.
“He’s respected and has a high profile,” Ghastek called out. “If you kill him, every law enforcement agency will converge on us.”
Beau was only a few yards away. Six foot six and built like one of the ancient Saxons who swung axes as tall as they were, Beau rode a dappled Percheron cross that stood about eighteen hands tall and looked strong enough to pull a semi. The two deputies rode Tennessee walkers. Three riders, three shotguns. Nothing else.
Beau came to a stop. The vampires stared at him, held in check by the navigators’ minds.
“Alright,” Beau boomed. “I’m Beau Clayton, lawfully elected by the people of Milton County as their sheriff. It’s the duty of my office to faithfully execute all writs, warrants, precepts, and processes directed to me as sheriff of this county. I’m here to execute a warrant.”
The bloodsuckers stared at him.
Hugh’s stare turned calculating. He was thinking about it.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take this person into custody. You are going to turn around and go home. The lynching has been canceled. Move along. There is nothing to see here.”
Hugh’s stallion danced under him.
“Disperse,” Beau repeated.
Hugh reached for his sword.
I raised my hand. The gates of the Keep swung open. Shapeshifters in warrior form waited in rows, filling the courtyard, their fur raised, their fangs bared. I had put every shapeshifter capable of a half-form into the courtyard. Sixty-four people. Only eighteen were combat rated, but from here, it looked like every single one was a render.
“If you assault an officer of law, the Pack will retaliate,” Jim said.
“Your best people are gone,” Ghastek said. “You’re at half-strength at best.”
I nodded. “Yes, most of our young single people have gone to hunt. You’ll be facing parents whose children are in that Keep. Have you ever tried to take a cub from a wolf? You’re welcome to give it a shot.”
Hugh’s hand was on his sword.
I reached for Slayer. Laughter bubbled up. “Go ahead, Hugh. Make my day. I’m really frustrated right now. I need to vent. Please.”
He glared at me.
“You lost,” I told him. “I called your bluff. Take your goons and go home.”
“We have no legal standing to attack a sheriff,” Ghastek said.
“You’ll do what I tell you,” Hugh told him.
“No, he won’t,” I told him. I could tell by Ghastek’s eyes that he was out. Whatever Hugh decided now, I had done my job. I had stopped this war from happening.
A roar rolled through the snowy field, shaking the winter air like a sudden, terrifying clap of thunder. Hugh’s Friesian jerked. The roar cascaded, frothing with menace and fury, awakening some long-forgotten instinct that severed the rational part of the brain from the body and left only three options open: fight, flight, or freeze.
Curran.
The relief drowned me, turning me weightless, and for a short blissful moment I was completely and utterly happy. Curran!
The trees at the north edge of the field shook as a flock of birds took flight. Curran leaped into the snow. He rose almost eight feet tall in warrior form, a muscled terrifying blend of a man and a predatory cat, sheathed in gray fur and armed with claws the size of my fingers. His head was pure lion. He opened his mouth and roared.
An enormous Kodiak bear emerged from the brush, shaking his big furry body. Next to him a bouda giggled. I’d never been so happy to hear that eerie hair-raising cackle in my entire life.
Shapeshifters poured out of the woods, ten, twenty, more . . . Where did he get them . . . ?
He must’ve gone to the Wood and pulled our people off the hunt. He’d brought an army. Yes!
Curran broke into a run. The shapeshifters followed, raising powdery snow into the air.
“We’re done here.” Ghastek turned to the sea of vampires. “Mission aborted. Bogey to mother.”
The vampires streamed off the field.
I laughed.
Hugh turned his horse, facing me. “I tried to be nice, but I have my limits. You want to be treated like an animal, I’ll treat you like one.”
He opened his mouth. Magic ripped from him like a tidal wave and snapped, catching me. A power word.
The right side of my face turned hot. A pale gold light spiraled around me. Next to me, Ghastek jerked, caught in an identical glowing tornado.
On the wall behind me, Christopher screamed, “Mistress!”
Hugh smirked.
Whatever was happening, he would die before it was over. I dashed to him across the snow, sword out. The light moved with me, streaming around me in bright sunny ribbons. I leaped over the thorns.
Hugh slid off his horse.
Curran sprinted to me, his eyes pure gold.
I struck. Hugh’s blade met mine. He bared his teeth at me.
The tornado of light around me pulsed with red, slicing through Slayer’s blade where it touched Hugh’s sword. The blade snapped in half.
No!
The field, Hugh, and Curran vanished.
13
SOMEONE JERKED THE ground from under my feet. I hurtled through empty air, weightless, my arms transparent. Bricks flashed before me. I was falling through a round shaft. Directly below me a thick metal grate blocked dark water.
I’m going to die.
I hit the grate and passed through it, as if it were air. My body plunged into the water.
Lukewarm. Wet.
My body turned solid. I kicked, surfaced, and stared at half a sword in my hand. Hugh broke my sword. He broke Slayer.