Magic Bleeds

CHAPTER 23

AUNT B LEFT. I WAITED A FEW BREATHS, FOUND my shoes, and climbed up the stairs. And ran into Jennifer on the landing. Jennifer looked like she devoted her life to the god of running: long legs, long body, long face. Long teeth. Especially in the beast form.

Jennifer and her husband, Daniel, ran Clan Wolf. From what I’d heard, of the two, Jennifer was more aggressive and more likely to twist the head off your shoulders. Daniel could be reasoned with, but if you pissed off Jennifer, it was all over.

“Going somewhere?” The wolf alpha crossed her lean arms.

“Out.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

I looked into her blue eyes. “You might want to rephrase that.”

Jim wandered out of the kitchen and leaned against the door frame.

Jennifer raised her head. She had a couple of inches of height on me and she milked them for all she had. “You are the Beast Lord’s mate and under my protection.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“The wolf clan has its sources.”

Well, wasn’t that special. “Then the wolf clan also knows that my mate status is still in question. I haven’t said yes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You dumped catnip on his bed and welded his weight bench together.”

Jennifer two, Kate zero. “That’s a private matter between me and His Furriness. Even if we were mated, I have my own name and I made my own rep. I don’t think the term ‘mate’ should trump everything I’ve done. I’ve earned more than that.”

Jim chuckled softly.

Jennifer took a step back and sized me up. “Point taken,” she said finally. “But if you walk out of that door, I’ll have to explain to Curran that I had you secured and let you go. I have enough to worry about as it is.”

She had a point. “I have work to do. The magic is down, so it’s unlikely Erra is still running around. She doesn’t like technology much, and the last time I saw her, she was trying to redecorate the snowdrifts around my place in a lovely shade of red.”

“No.”

I looked at Jim. “I’m a bit fuzzy on my status within the Pack.”

“Technically, you have none,” he said. “Sleeping with a shapeshifter doesn’t grant you Pack privileges.”

I smiled at Jennifer. “Since I have no official Pack status, you have no power to detain me. I’m a lawful agent of the Order and I need you to step aside.”

She looked at Jim. “Would you like to weigh in on this at any point?”

Jim shrugged. “If you get yourself fucked up and it gets out that Jennifer had you here and let you get hurt, it won’t look good for the wolves. And you have a record of getting yourself seriously fucked up.”

Thank you, Mr. Helpful. “Look, I appreciate the difficulty of your position, but I’m not going to sit here all cozy while my dog freezes to death.” And as of now, I was my aunt’s primary target. The more space I put between me and the shapeshifters, the safer they would be.

“Take an escort,” Jim said.

“Are you offering to babysit me, Ms. Poppins?”

“Nope. I’ll give you a vehicle and you can take Jennifer’s wolves with you.”

Brilliant. If I was attacked, I’d have some homicidal werewolves to protect.

Jennifer looked at Jim. “Why, thank you for volunteering my people, cat. Any other orders for me?”

Jim gave her his hard stare. Jennifer’s upper lip rose, showing a glimpse of her teeth.

I stepped back. “Please feel free to settle your differences.” And while you’re doing that, I’ll quietly go on my way . . .

Jennifer paused her glaring for a second. “The cat is right. Take my wolves.”

“I don’t know your wolves.” I looked at Jim. “Why can’t you go if you’re so concerned?”

He sighed. “Because certain people aren’t altogether rational at the moment. If I came with you, I’d have to answer uncomfortable questions. I ask questions, I don’t answer them.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Why were you in a vehicle with Kate, alone? What were you wearing? What was she wearing? How long were you there? Did you do something or did you talk? What was the nature of your discussion? Could this trip have been avoided?”

I rubbed my face. “So basically you’re scared that His Lordship might get his panties in a bunch?”

“That’s one way to put it. The other way would be that I’m dedicated to observing the Pack’s social protocol. If you were ‘officially’ mated and installed in his rooms in the Keep, it would be less of an issue. However, technically you’re still available, since you have yet to commit.”

I made an effort to enunciate my reply very carefully. “Available?”

“Up for grabs. On the market. Ready for action. Putting out the vibe.”

He was just jerking my chain now. Two could play that game. “Fine, I don’t care, give me an escort, send me in a car or a cart or whatever. Just don’t send your girlfriend as a chauffeur.”

A stunned silence issued. Jim’s eyebrows came together. Judging by his expression, if Jim had been in cat form, every hair on his back would’ve stood up. “My girlfriend?”

Jennifer kept a perfectly straight face.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “You know, short, glasses, Indonesian, drives like a demon from the lowest bowels of hell?”

“She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Oh, so she’s still up for grabs? Fair game?”

“Putting out the vibe?” Jennifer added.

Jim turned and walked away without a word.

Holy crap, I’d struck a nerve. I had no idea that there was anything there. It was a total shot in the dark.

Jennifer looked at me. “I’ll give you three wolves.”

“Why three?”

“If there is trouble, one will take custody of you and execute a retreat, while the other two will run interference.”

My jaw tried very hard to hit the floor. If it was physically possible, I’d be picking up my teeth from the carpet. “We’ve met before, right?”

“I do believe so, yes.”

“Then you do know that if your wolf tries to carry me from a battle, I’ll cut her arms off?”

“What are we chatting about?” Aunt B came out of the kitchen. “I just saw Jim and he had a peculiar look on his face.”

“Jennifer wants to saddle me up with an escort. They’re supposed to grab me and run like a bat out of hell if someone sneezes in my direction.”

Aunt B raised her eyebrows. “There is no need. The boudas will provide the escort.”

Jennifer’s eyes turned flat like two chunks of ice. “Are you implying there is something wrong with my people?”

Now I knew why Curran was crazy.

“Of course not, dear.” Aunt B’s smile was so sweet, you could spread her on toast. “But Clan Bouda and Kate have a special bond.”

Jennifer’s voice turned equally sweet. “Clan Wolf and Kate have a special bond as well.”

Steel slipped into Aunt B’s smile. Her voice remained sugary sweet. “You should let me take the escort.”

Jennifer’s eyes flared with yellow. She gave Aunt B a big happy smile. “Take care, Beatrice. You’re in my house.”

“Why, goodness me, is that a threat?”

If you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you’d think they were two Southern women catching up on local gossip at a church picnic.

Jennifer rocked forward. “I’m tired of you coming around here and poking your nose into everything.”

A ruby glow sheathed Aunt B’s irises. “You’re young and you want to assert yourself. But don’t think for a moment you will do it by taking me down. On your best day, you’re only as good as I am on my worst with one arm tied behind my back.”

“Is that so? Maybe we should test that theory.”

I took three steps back and slipped into the hallway. Behind me a vicious growl announced someone going furry. I jogged to the end of the hallway. Two shapeshifters stood guard by the door.

“Aunt B and Jennifer are about to have a showdown,” I told them.

They took off. I waited a couple of seconds for them to reach the stairs, opened the door, and walked out into the snow. If they wanted to fight, that was fine. I had a poodle to rescue. Jim’s safe house was only thirty minutes from my place. Even with the snowdrifts, I’d make it in forty-five. Hold on, Grendel. I’m coming.

I TRUDGED UP THE STAIRS TO MY APARTMENT. My feet refused to move, as if filled with lead. My back hurt. I was so tired. In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve fought for my life twice and been healed with magic both times. Medmages accomplished miracles, but they used the body’s own resources to heal, and whatever Doolittle did had drained me down to nothing. I was spent.

My eyes kept wanting to close and a couple of times I almost pitched over into the snow, because it looked soft and inviting. If it weren’t for a Biohazard van I flagged down, I might have taken a nap along the road and frozen my ass off. As it was, the Biohazard medtechs gave me a ride, cutting my travel time down to a third. I’d scored fifteen minutes of half-sleep in the van on the way, safe and warm. My luck had to be turning for the better. One flight of stairs and I’d be home.

The splinters of my front door littered the landing in front of it. Fatigue vanished, burned in a rush of adrenaline. I stepped through the gaping doorway and stopped breathing.

Chunks of furniture and fabric lay scattered across my floor. Wooden shards protruded from the wall, marked with gashes and holes. The door to the library had vanished. The bookshelves inside had been pulverized. Four dozen glass bottles lay smashed, their contents staining the floor, mixing with torn pages of rare books and Greg’s prized artifacts, now crushed and shattered. Herb dust swirled in the draft from busted windows.

My house wasn’t just trashed. It was obliterated, as if a tornado had swept through it.

The bathroom door had been torn off its hinges. Deep gouges scoured it, too big for Grendel. Erra must’ve brought the Beast in. I checked the bathroom. No Grendel. No blood either. If she’d killed him, she would’ve left the body on display for me.

In the kitchen, holes gaped in the plaster where she’d ripped the cabinets from the wall. The wood was broken, not cut. She’d kicked them to pieces.

I stepped back into the living room, walking over the floor filled with mutilated books. One of Greg’s dirks protruded from the wall, piercing Julie’s pictures. Cuts sliced the photographs—Erra had stabbed Julie’s eyes and face, again and again. Ice climbed down my spine. If she could’ve found Julie, I would be cradling my kid’s corpse with her eyes sliced out.

I had to do the world a favor and kill the bitch.

When Greg died, he’d left the apartment and everything he owned to me. The books, the artifacts, the weapons. I couldn’t let it go. I’d moved here, to Atlanta, to keep his memory alive. He was my last link to anything resembling a family. I assumed his place at the Order, and made his apartment into a home. This was my space. My corner of the world where I felt safe and secure. A shelter for me and Julie. And Erra had violated it. She’d torn it apart.

There was no coming back from this. It was all gone. No matter what I did now, I couldn’t restore the library or the apartment to its previous state. She had destroyed it so completely, it would never be the same.

It felt a little like dying. I’ve stared at death often enough to recognize being in a tomb. I should’ve felt something more, a deeper sadness, a sense of loss, but I just stood there, numb.

She’d made her hit. It was my time to hit back.

A small noise floated from the stairs. Grendel dashed into the apartment and hit me, pawing at me.

“Hey, you idiot.”

I grabbed him and hugged his smelly neck, running my hands along his sides. No blood. His sweatshirt hung in shreds, but he seemed no worse for wear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I walked out the door, the dog in tow, and didn’t look back.

Twenty minutes later we made it to Andrea’s, where I used my mad detective skills to deduce that she wasn’t home. Her door was locked, and she didn’t answer when I knocked. She was probably at Raphael’s. That left me with one option: the Order. The Order had the added benefit of military-grade wards. It would take a small army of mages to break through them. Or my aunt. What a pleasant thought.

I dragged myself to the Order. Sleep still clung to me and fatigue made me slow and stupid. It took me over a minute to get the foldaway cot from the armory. I set it up in my office, and collapsed on it. Grendel flopped next to me and we passed out.

I HAD EXCELLENT REACTION TIME. THAT’S WHY I didn’t run Andrea through with my saber when she barged into my office. Instead I dropped Slayer a fraction of a second after I’d grasped it and sat up slowly. Best friend, no kill.

Andrea glared at me. “You’re here!”

“Where else would I be?”

She shut the door. “You have no idea.”

“My apartment is in shambles. I stopped by your place, but you were gone, so I came here. It’s safe and warm and there is coffee.”

“You were at Jim’s last night.”

“Yes. Jennifer and Aunt B were about to have a fight and I made my escape. Normally I would’ve paid money to see something like that, but I had to go and get my dog. Where is my spawn of hell, by the way?”

“He was scratching by the door, and I let him out. That’s how I knew you were here.” Andrea shook her head. “After you left, Doolittle broke up the fight. Eventually everyone calmed down enough to realize you’d taken off. Doolittle wigged out because he’d loaded your tea with sedative and he thought you would pass out somewhere in the snow. Both the wolves and the boudas have been combing the snowdrifts for hours looking for you.”

I picked up a book and bumped my forehead on it a few times. Why me? Why?

“And nobody thought to call here and check?”

“Jim called, but Maxine told him that you weren’t here and she would give you the message when your shift started.”

Of course. Standard policy of the Order meant that when a knight was off, she was off, unless it was an emergency. Otherwise knights tended to work themselves into complete exhaustion.

I concentrated. “Maxine?”

“She is out. Ted dragged her off to some meeting. There is nobody here but you, me, and Mauro.”

“What meeting?”

“I have no idea.” Andrea waved her arms. “Kate!”

“What?”

“Focus. Jennifer, Aunt B, and Doolittle are going to tell Curran this morning.”

Hi, Your Majesty, we drugged your love muffin and then let her walk out into the dark, in the snow. Her apartment is destroyed and we’re not sure where she is . . . “He’ll need a lot of metal plates.”

“What?”

“Never mind. It’s not my job to comply with Aunt B’s body guarding. I didn’t agree to it.”

Andrea leaned toward me and spoke very slowly and clearly. “You need to call the Beast Lord. Before he skins my boyfriend’s mother, if at all possible.”

I dragged myself to the desk and picked up the phone. Call the Beast Lord. Right.

Trouble was, I wasn’t sure the Beast Lord and I were okay.

I dialed the Keep.

“Kate Da—”

The line clicked, and Curran’s voice filled the phone. “Yes?”

Here we go. “Hey. It’s me.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

Is that waiting good or waiting bad? “How’s it going?” That’s me, chipper.

“It’s been better.” He didn’t sound like he was in the middle of skinning anyone. Although knowing Curran, calm voice didn’t indicate much. I’d seen him calmly jump on a silver golem’s back and be completely rational about it afterward despite the excruciating pain.

Andrea paced the floor like a caged tiger.

“Me, too. I’m at the Order. Been here since last night.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

So they told him already. “Did you rip anyone to pieces?”

“Not yet. I’m thinking about it.”

I leaned back. “Andrea is wearing a hole in my carpet, because she’s worried you might be upset with her future mother-in-law. She is a little emotional about this issue.”

Andrea paused her pacing and gave me her thousand-yard stare. I’d seen this precise look on her face when she peered through the scope of a sniper rifle sighting a target.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Can I tell her to stop pacing?”

“Is that what you would like?”

“Yes. As a favor to me.”

“As you wish.”

I couldn’t figure out who was the bigger idiot, him for saying it to me, or me for wanting to drop everything and go straight to him because he said it. This insanity had to stop. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. A favor,” Curran said. “Would you let me pick you up at the Order today?”

He didn’t finish but I knew what he left unsaid: Let me pick you up and take you home, to the Keep.

“My shift started”—I glanced at the clock—“twelve minutes ago. It ends at six. If it’s at all up to me, I will be here waiting for you. I promise.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your place.”

“Me, too.”

I hung up. That was the second civil conversation we’d had since we’d known each other. Too bad there was no champagne handy to celebrate the occasion.

“He’s let it go. Satisfied?”

Andrea frowned. “The Beast Lord just asked you for a favor?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Were Aunt B and Jennifer there?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think to ask.”

“I bet they were there.” Andrea squinted at me. “Curran doesn’t ask for favors. He doesn’t bother. And he just let this whole thing go without an argument. That kind of influence is something only a mate would have . . . You slept together.”

I gave her a blank look.

“You slept with Curran and you didn’t tell me? I’m your best friend.”

“It didn’t come up.”

“How disappointing for you.”

Ha-ha. “That’s not what I meant.”

She pulled up a client chair and sat down on it. “Details. Now.”

“We had a fight, screamed at each other for a while, I kicked him in the head, and then he stayed the night.”

“That’s it? That’s all?”

“That’s it.”

She waved her arms in the air. “How was it?”

Like fireworks, only better. “It was good.”

“Getting information out of you is like pulling teeth. Does Aunt B know?”

I nodded.

“That explains their collective panic attack. So did the two of you trash your apartment?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

That wasn’t a question I could answer with Mauro down the hall. I took a piece of paper from the drawer, wrote “My Aunt Erra” on it, and showed it to her.

Andrea paled.

I tore the paper to pieces and threw into the trash can. “The good news is I know who the Steel Mary is. Her name is Erra. The bad news is I know what she can do.”

I gave her the rundown on Erra, her history, and her powers, keeping our family connection out of it in case anyone was listening. “She’s completely amoral. She has absolutely no connection to any other human being except Roland. For Erra, the world breaks down into family and not-family. Not-family is fair game. And just because you were born to the family doesn’t keep you safe. If she decides that you’re not up to snuff, she’ll fix the mistake of your existence. Her words, not mine.”

“She has a high opinion of herself,” Andrea said.

“Oh yes. When she gets into a car, her ego has to ride shotgun.”

She tapped her fingers on my desk. “Are you thinking direct challenge?”

“Exactly. Issue a challenge, throw a couple of insults, use me as bait, since she hates me, and she won’t be able to resist. If we do this somewhere outside of town, where she can’t screw with the crowd, and throw every female knight the Order can scrape together at her, we may have a chance.”

“I’ve asked Ted to let me assist you with this twice,” Andrea said. “The second time in writing. It was denied.”

“Ted went behind my back,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

I sketched it out for her. Midway through it, she got up and started pacing across my floor again. Faint outlines of spots ghosted under her skin.

When I was done, she unclenched her teeth. “What he did was against the code of knighthood. But you have no recourse. There is nothing in the Charter that protects your rights. You aren’t a knight.”

“I don’t want recourse.”

She spun to me. “Are you leaving the Order?”

Magic flooded the world. My heart skipped a beat. I chose my words carefully. “I have a problem with dedicating myself to an organization who considers my friends nonhuman.”

“Ted Moynohan isn’t the entirety of the Order.”

“You’ve gone through the Academy. You know he isn’t the only one.” I leaned forward. “It’s a deeply ingrained organization-wide prejudice. I understand why it’s there, but I don’t agree with it. Nonhumanity is a dangerous label. If someone is nonhuman, they have no rights, Andrea. No protection.”

She stopped pacing and looked at me. “That’s why you have to stay and fight. If people like you leave, the Order will never change. The change has to come from within to be effective.”

I sighed. “It’s not my fight, Andrea. Nor am I in a position to change anything. You said it yourself, I’m not a knight. I’m not part of the fraternity. I’m a barely tolerated outsider and I can be fired at any time. My voice doesn’t matter and it won’t be heard no matter how loud I scream.”

“So you’re just going to quit?”

“Probably. I can’t compromise on this and I can’t fight the entire Order. It’s a losing battle. Some losing battles are worth fighting anyway, but this isn’t one of them. Beating my head against this wall is a waste of time and effort. I can’t alter the Order, but I can make sure it no longer benefits from my services.”

Grendel dashed into the room, hurled himself past me and into the corner. A ragged snarl ripped from his mouth. He bit the air, barked once, and froze on rigid feet.

Something was scaring him half to death. I grabbed Slayer. Both of Andrea’s hands had SIG-Sauers in them.

A loud boom rang through the building, resonating through my head. Someone had just tested the strength of the Order’s ward.

“What the hell?” Andrea sprinted into the hallway.

I cleared the distance to the window in a single breath.

The ward blanketed the building like an outer invisible shell. The Order’s protective spell was strong enough to hold off an entire squad of MSDU mages, but whatever hit it had left a dent.

A solid wall of fire surged up over my window. Pale blue flashed as the invisible barrier of the protective spell strained under the press of the flames.

The fire died. A female voice rolled through the building. “Where are you, miserable rodent? I’ve come to burn down your tree!”

My aunt had arrived.

BOOM! THE WARD TOOK ANOTHER HIT.

The building blocked my view. I needed a better angle.

I sprinted into the hallway, turned left, and ran to Maxine’s desk. Grendel followed me, snarling. Maxine’s office was shallow, but long, and her window was the farthest I could get from the entrance short of breaking into Ted’s lair.

I swung the window open and leaned out.

Below me and to the left a man in a tattered cloak punched the ward, trying to batter his way through the spell to the front door.

Boom!

Boom!

His bare arms glowed with dark red.

Torch. Power of fire. My aunt decided not to show up in person. I’d hoped I’d hurt her enough for her to lay low for a day. No such luck.

Andrea popped into Maxine’s office with a huge crossbow in her hands. The crossbow sprouted metal gun-looking parts in odd places as if half a dozen assorted rifles had thrown up on it. Mauro followed her.

“The guy below is Torch,” I told her for Mauro’s benefit. “He’s an undead mage with power over fire. Erra’s riding his mind the way navigators ride the vampires.”

“We can’t take it outside.” Mauro leaned to the side, getting a better look, and nodded at the new office buildings across the street. “If we fight him down there, he’ll burn everything. Those buildings across the street are all wood. They’ll go up like straw.”

“Better to keep him contained.” Andrea took my spot by the window, sighted Torch, and dropped her aim. “No good. Keep him engaged.”

She moved into the hallway, jumped up, and pulled down the access door leading to the attic.

Boom!

Keep him engaged. No sweat.

I slid the window up, letting the icy air in, and sat on the windowsill. “Break it already, you’re giving me a headache.”

Torch looked up. About my age, solid black hair, American Indian features. Looked like a Cherokee to me, but I wasn’t sure. “There you are!” he said in Erra’s voice.

“What’s the matter? Too scared to come out and fight me yourself?”

“Pace yourself, coward. I’m coming.”

Boom! The building shuddered. The ward wouldn’t hold him for long.

Mauro ducked into my office. “Andy says bring him closer to you, so she can get a shot. Here.” He tossed me a jar. “Fire protection.”

I dug in my pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Hey, Erra?”

Torch glanced in my direction.

I dangled five bucks at him and let it flutter down in the six-inch space between the ward and the building. “For you!”

Torch strode over and stared at the fiver. “What’s this?”

“Some change for you. Buy your flunkies some decent clothes.” I dipped my fingers into the jar and smeared thick fragrant paste on my face.

Torch frowned, mirroring the expression on my aunt’s face. “Change?”

Oh, for crying out loud. “It’s money. We don’t use coins as currency now, we use paper money.”

He stared at me.

“I’m insulting you! I’m saying you’re poor, like a beggar, because your undead are in rags. I’m offering to clothe your servants for you, because you can’t provide for them. Come on, how thick do you have to be?”

He jerked his hand up. A jet of flame erupted from his fingers, sliding against the ward. I jerked back from the window on instinct. The fire died. I leaned forward. “Do you understand now?”

More fire.

“What’s the matter? Was that not enough money?”

Flames hit the window. Hairline veins of blue appeared in the ward. Not good. Why the hell wasn’t Andrea shooting him?

I waited until the fire vanished and popped my head back out. Torch stood with both arms raised, and his cloak hung open in the middle, presenting me with entirely too much of his full frontal view.

“Oh no, is it naked time?”

He opened his mouth to answer. A sharp twang sliced the air. A crossbow bolt sprouted from his open mouth, its point protruding from the back of his neck shining like a green star. The air hissed. The second bolt punched through his chest. The third took him in the stomach, just under the breastbone.

Green light pulsed once, like an emerald catching the sunlight.

The bolts exploded.

A torrent of green erupted into the sky. I ducked away from the window. “What the hell did she shoot him with?”

“Galahad Five warheads. Something the Welsh came up with to use against the giants. Packs a good punch.” Mauro blinked against the light. “She demanded we get some after that whole Cerberus episode.”

The flare finally faded. Erra’s jeering voice called out from the street, “Is that all you’ve got?”

Couldn’t be. I leaned to the window, Mauro next to me. On the street, Torch pulled the shreds of his cloak off his shoulders. The fabric broke to green-glowing ash under his touch.

He squared his naked shoulders and opened his mouth.

A blast of magic hit me, ripping through the protective spell like a thunderclap. Window glass exploded. The world went white in agony. The building quaked and bucked under my feet, shuddering from the aftershock of the ward’s collapse. I clenched my teeth and clawed through the pain. My vision cleared. In front of me Mauro slumped on his knees among shards of the shattered window. Blood dripped from his nose.

He sucked it in and staggered to his feet, his face caught in a grimace. “A power word.”

“Yes.” Probably something along the lines of Open or Break. I glanced at the window. A translucent wall of blue blocked the view. Hairline cracks fractured the dead ward. The wall held together for another second and broke apart, melting into the wind.

So that was what a power word spoken by a six-thousand-year-old woman felt like.

Erra’s voice rolled through the building in a cheerful song. “One little step! Two little steps! Three little steps! I’m coming up the stairs, little squirrel. Prepare yourself.”

I pulled Slayer free of its sheath and strode into the hallway. Behind me Andrea dropped through the access panel, landing in an easy crouch on the floor.

The door to the hallway flew open, ripped off its hinges, revealing Torch on the landing. His nude body glowed with an angry deep ruby light. A wide metal collar clasped his neck. There goes my decapitation trick.

He was undead, made with my family’s blood. It gave me a chance, a small insignificant chance, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I pulled the magic to me.

Torch raised his left foot, stepping inside. Tiny sparks broke across his toes. His foot touched the floor and the sparks erupted into flames, spiraling up his limbs in a quick cascade.

Mauro braced himself.

The flames licked Torch’s bare chest. Fifty feet of the hallway lay between us, four offices on each side. I kept pulling, winding the magic around me. That’s right, bring him closer, Aunt dear. The shorter the range, the greater the impact.

The crossbow string twanged. Twin bolts pierced Torch’s chest. He ripped them out with an impatient jerk of the flame-sheathed hand. Andrea swore.

“Cute,” Erra barked. “My turn.”

The fire swirled around Torch like a mantle of heat and light. He raised his arms. Flames danced about his fingertips.

A huge hand pushed me back. Mauro thrust himself in front of me. His shirt was gone. A dense wall of tattoos covered his back and chest. They glowed with tiny lines of bright red that shifted and flowed, as if inside Mauro’s skin his flesh had turned to lava. He stomped, first left foot, then right, planting himself in the hallway, feet spread wide, arms raised at his sides.

“Get out of the way!” I snarled.

Mauro took a deep breath.

A fireball burst from Torch’s arms, roaring down the hallway.

Mauro bellowed a single word. “Mahui-ki!”

The tattoos flashed with bright red. The wall of flame broke into twin jets five feet before the Samoan, shooting through Mauro’s office on the left and Gene’s on the right. Mauro stood untouched.

The fire died. The Torch cocked his head to the side like a dog. “What’s this?”

Mauro grunted and stomped, one foot, then the other. The red lines on his skin flared.

Another wall of fire hit Mauro and twisted, deflected into the offices. Mauro packed a hell of a power. But now three hundred pounds of him stood between me and Torch and those three hundred pounds showed no signs of moving. The hallway was too narrow. I was stuck.

“Mauro, get out of the way.”

“Hit me!” Mauro roared at the Torch.

Right. No intelligent life there.

“Brace yourself.” Torch swung his arms, building up spirals of fire around his arms.

If I couldn’t go through Mauro, I had to go around him. I ducked into the break room and kicked the wall. The old wooden boards splintered under my kick. The building was solid brick, but the inner walls that cleaved the inside space into offices were single board thin. I kicked again. The wood gave with a snap and I broke through into Mauro’s office.

In the hallway Mauro roared, a raw bellow full of strain.

I hit the next wall with my shoulder.

Mauro’s body flew past me. A thud shook the building—Mauro’s back punching Ted’s office door. A wall of fire followed, blasting me with heat. Andrea screamed.

I tore at the wall in front of me and squeezed through the narrow opening.

“Where are you, whelp? Did you run away again, maggot?”

The boards creaked. She was moving Torch in my direction. A wound to the stomach would do nothing to him and the collar kept me from slicing his neck. Not a lot of choices. If this failed, he’d burn us alive.

Torch passed by the door.

Now.

I lunged out of the room and clamped my left arm across his throat, pulling his back snug against me. Fire shot along his skin. I slid Slayer between his ribs into his heart and whispered a word into his ear.

“Hessad.” Mine.

The world shook, as all of the magic I’d gathered tore from me at once. Pain streamed through my body, wringing tears from my eyes. Torch’s mind opened before me, hot like boiling metal. I clamped it, dousing the flames, and smashed against the solid wall of Erra’s presence. Her mind punched me and I reeled.

The immense force of her mind towered over me. Nobody was that powerful. Nobody.

Was that what looking into my father’s mind would be like? If so, I didn’t have a fucking prayer.

I pushed back, a gnat against colossus. An immense pressure grinding against me, sparking pain. I hung on, clenching my hand on Slayer’s hilt. If I held it in his heart long enough, the blade would turn the undead tissue to pus. I just had to last.

Torch spun, lifting me off my feet. Fire licked my chest. “You shame the family. Weakling. Coward, who runs from the fight like a mangy dog.”

I gritted my teeth against the pain and pushed back with my mind, extinguishing the flames. “It wasn’t my idea. I had you and I would’ve killed you.”

Hard fingers gripped my left wrist and pulled, slowly moving my arm from his throat. I strained. The moment he got free, he’d pull Slayer out and then we’d be done for.

“You dare to wrestle with my mind? I’m the Plaguebringer. Gods flee when they hear me coming.”

“If my hands weren’t busy, I’d clap for you.”

Slayer gave under my hand, slightly loose in the rapidly liquefying undead tissue, and I jabbed it deeper into the wound. Erra grunted, a harsh sound of pain.

“Did that hurt? How about this?” I twisted the blade.

A fiery hammer hit my mind, tearing a groan from me. Heat shot from Torch. The air around me boiled. Fire spiraled up his legs.

“Did that hurt, whelp? I’ll cook you alive. You’ll beg me to kill you when your eyes pop from the heat.”

Torch threw himself back, smashing me against the wall. I hung on to him like a pit bull. A few more moments. It didn’t hurt that much. I just had to hold on for a few moments.

Erra slammed into the other wall. Something crunched in my back.

A dark shape sprang from Ted’s office and sprinted to us. Erra saw it. Flames filled the hallway. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe.

An enormous black dog shot through the fire. I saw eyes glowing with blue fire and ivory fangs. The creature smashed into Torch.

My mental defenses shuddered. I was done.

The giant dog clamped his teeth on Torch’s arm and hung on. Torch shook him like a terrier shakes a rat, but the dog clung to him, dragging him down.

A second shape burst through the fire, this one pale and spotted. Deranged blue eyes glared at me from a face that was neither hyena nor human, but a seamless fluid blend of the two. Andrea buried her claws in Torch’s gut. We crashed on the floor, Torch on the bottom, me on top.

The world drowned in pain, melting into hoarse snarls.

The flesh under Slayer’s blade gave. I strained, forcing the saber through the soggy undead heart. The blade ground against ribs and burst out in a spray of dark fluid. The undead blood splashed on my lips and its sting tasted like heaven.

“I’ll kill you,” Erra gurgled. “I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth—”

I smashed my foot into Torch’s neck, crushing the windpipe.

The awful pressure on my mind vanished.

I closed my eyes and floated in a long moment. Absence of pain was bliss.

And then an ache gnawed at my arms. My eyes snapped open.

A sleek creature rose from the Torch’s stomach. Petite, proportionate, with elegant long limbs and well-shaped head, she was a perfect meld of human and hyena. Dark blood drenched her hands armed with long claws, staining her spotted forearms all the way to the elbow. Furious red eyes gazed at me from a human face seamlessly flowing into a dark muzzle.

She’d changed to save me.

Andrea’s dark lips trembled, showing the sharp cones of her teeth. “God damn it.”

She kicked Torch’s corpse, knocking it off me, and kicked it again, sending it flying into the wall. “You bitch! Mother-fucking whore.”

I sat up and watched her punt and throw his body, spouting profanities. Being part bouda, she fought driven by rage. The quicker she let it out, the quicker she would be able to calm down enough to change back.

The enormous black creature lay down next to me and licked my foot.

“Grendel?” I asked softly.

The hell-dog whined softly in a distinctly Grendel-like fashion.

My attack poodle turned into a huge black hound with glowing eyes and shaggy fur. Figures.

The light dawned. The Black Dog. Of course. It was an old legend from so many cultures nobody knew exactly where it came from. Stories of giant Black Dogs with shiny eyes haunting the night have been passed around for years, especially in the United Kingdom and northern Europe. Nobody quite knew what they were, but when captured, they scanned as “fera,” animal magic. Animal magic registered as a very pale yellow. When the medtechs scanned, their scanner must’ve failed to pick it up.

Andrea growled a few feet away. Grendel whined again and tried to stick his baseball-sized nose into my hand. Around us the office smoldered.

We’d beaten her again. Three undead down. Four to go.