Magic Breaks

16

I HAD STOOD in the doorway of my grandmother’s tomb, blocking access to the inside, until the last of our party made it across. She let us go. When I got to the other side, nobody spoke. They just looked at me, their faces freaked out.

“Keep moving,” Curran growled.

We ran through the twisted hallways of Mishmar. We’d been going for the better part of an hour now. I was so damn tired.

“Break,” Curran called.

I almost ran into him, but at the last moment, I twisted away and sagged against the wall. Kate Daniels, the picture of grace.

Ghastek paused in front of me, still in the arms of his vampire. “I demand an explanation.”

Bite me. How about that for an explanation?

“Let me know how that goes for you,” Robert told him. “I’ve been demanding explanations for the last two weeks.”

“You’re not in a position to demand anything,” Jim said.

“Me?” Robert turned to Jim.

“No, him.” Jim nodded at Ghastek.

“Clearly, I haven’t been made aware of certain things, and considering that I’m an innocent bystander to this entire sordid affair, I deserve to know what’s going on,” Ghastek said.

Curran turned. His voice dropped into the flat tone that usually meant he was half a second from erupting into violence. “You and your undead brood came to my house and threatened my people and my mate. I have a strong urge to crush your neck between my teeth. Now, so far I’ve been resisting this urge because Kate is fond of you—why, I can’t understand. But my patience is wearing thin.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ghastek told him.

Curran glanced at Jim. “Would I dare?”

Jim chuckled. “You would. In fact, I can’t understand why you haven’t dared yet. Mulradin is already dead. If Ghastek doesn’t make it out, the People will experience a power vacuum. Either they’ll fight it out or they’ll get a new boss from above who doesn’t know anything about Atlanta. Either way it’s a win for us.”

“We don’t really have to kill you,” Thomas said. “It can be a happy accident. You could step into a dark hole and break your neck. Or you and Jim could linger behind for a moment or two, and then you’ll slip and fall.”

“On my claws,” Jim added. “Very unfortunate.”

“Or I could accidentally shoot you,” Andrea offered from behind. “It was dark, I saw something move. Everybody knows I’m a terrible shot.”

“Ha-ha,” I told her.

“We’d get back,” Robert said. “And the People would ask us ‘Where is Ghastek?’ and we’d say ‘Terribly sorry, couldn’t find him. Mishmar is a big place, you know.’”

“I feel like I’ve been captured by a horde of savages,” Ghastek said dryly.

“You are a man who pilots monsters,” Nasrin said. “We are monsters. We look after our own. You are not one of our own.”

“I would like to go on record now: we should kill him,” Jim said. “We’ll be kicking ourselves in the ass if we don’t.”

“Yes, Curran,” Andrea said. “After all, how mad would Kate really be? She loves you. She’ll kick you a couple of times and then she’ll forgive you.”

“You guys are a riot,” I said. I didn’t hold Ghastek’s head above the water for hours so they could bump him off. “I promised him he would get out of here. You’re not killing him.”

A flood of undead magic rushed at us, as hundreds of bloodsuckers surged toward us somewhere above. The vampires must have found a way around Semiramis’s chamber.

“Run!” Ghastek screamed.

We sprinted through the hallway. Turn, another turn . . . The hallway opened into what must’ve been at one point a lobby. Giant double doors blocked our way and in between the doors, a narrow, hair-thin gap glowed weakly. Sunlight. We’d found the exit. I almost couldn’t believe it.

Robert slammed into the door. “Locked from the outside. I can see the bar.”

“Stand back.” Curran took a running start and rammed the door. It shuddered. He rammed it again. Wood splintered, the doors burst open, and we shot out into blinding daylight. The fresh air tasted so good. I stumbled, blinking, trying to get used to the glare.

A bridge melded together from sections of a concrete overpass stretched before us, covered with snow and chunks of ice. It spanned a gap at least two hundred yards deep and about a hundred yards wide. An enormous sheer wall encircled the gap. The bridge ran directly into the wall and in the place where they met, a large steel door marked the exit.

In the middle of the bridge stood Hugh d’Ambray.

Adrenaline surged through me. My heart hammered. The world slid into sharp focus. I saw it all at the same time in half a second: the six people in the familiar black tactical gear of the Iron Dogs behind Hugh; the E-50, an enhanced heavy machine gun that spat bullets so fast, they cut through steel like a can opener, mounted on a swivel platform to the left; the two gunners half-hidden behind the gun’s blast shield; Hugh himself, huge, wearing dark armor; and the door behind him. He stood between us and freedom. Hugh in front of us, the undead horde behind us. We had to go through him or die.

“Bar the door, please,” Ghastek said. “Also, just in case you’re wondering, I have no idea how to open that outer gate.”

“We’ll deal with it when we get there,” Jim snarled.

Thomas picked up the broken wooden bar and slid it back into the rungs. It wouldn’t hold for long, but anything was better than nothing.

Hugh’s face was grim. His cloak was black. His armor was black, too. Clearly he had a theme going. The armor didn’t look like either modern tactical gear or medieval plate. It looked woven, as if tiny metal threads had been somehow made pliant, painstakingly crafted together into a fabric, and molded to Hugh’s muscular frame. The fabric thickened into dense plates, mimicking the large muscles on his chest, stomach, and arms, and flowing over limbs and midway up Hugh’s thick neck. Part of my aunt’s blood armor looked like that, except hers was red. It looked like something my father would make, which meant claws, fangs, and blades wouldn’t cut through it.

I unsheathed Sarrat. It fit perfectly into my hands.

Where to strike? Back of the arm, covered. Inner thigh, covered. Midsection, covered. His face was about the only thing not protected, but he wasn’t going to just stand there and let me take a shot at it. I wasn’t at a hundred percent either. I had a hard time standing.

Hugh’s eyes promised death, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking to the right of me. At Curran.

Curran snarled. His irises went gold. All rational thought fled from his face. His expression turned savage. He grinned, baring his teeth.

Holy shit. Apparently they were happy to see each other.

Hugh reached behind his back and pulled out two short black axes. He pointed one at Curran and roared, “Lennart!”

It was the kind of roar that would cut straight through the chaotic noise of battle. It bounced off Mishmar behind us, and far above the giant birds screeched in alarm.

“Come on!” Hugh screamed.

“Curran?” I asked.

Curran didn’t even hear me. He had already started forward, pulling off his jacket as he moved. The jacket fell on the bridge. Muscles on his back and shoulders bulged under the dark shirt. He broke into a run. Curran was gone. Only the Beast Lord remained.

Hugh gripped his axes. He must’ve decided swords couldn’t do enough damage to Curran, so he went for something that could cleave a limb off in one blow.

“Why isn’t the Beast Lord shifting?” Nasrin murmured next to me.

“No point,” I told her. Curran had fought my aunt with me. He would remember the armor. “Claws won’t penetrate that armor.”

“Shoot anyone who interferes!” Hugh roared and charged.

They tore toward each other. There wasn’t a force on the planet that could stop them from colliding. Here’s hoping the world didn’t end when they hit each other.

I wanted to cut Hugh into pieces. I owed him for Mauro, my broken sword, and seven days in the hole. But Curran owed him for seeing me disappear, for finding out where I went, for running after me across half the country not knowing if I was still alive, and then for fighting his way to Mishmar only to find me half-dead. Curran had a much bigger score to settle.

Blood rushed through my veins. I could hear my own heartbeat. The familiar metallic taste of adrenaline coated my tongue. Come on, Curran. Hit him hard. At least the magic was down.

“Can you take out the gunners?” Thomas asked Andrea next to me.

“No,” she said. “Not while they’re hiding behind the blast shield. I could get one, maybe.”

The two men collided.

Hugh spun the axes as if they weighed nothing and chopped with the right axe straight down, putting all of his power into the swing. Curran blocked the haft with his forearm, but Hugh’s left axe was already moving. The axe head bit into Curran’s stomach and sliced sideways right to left.

No!

The world slowed. I saw the bloody blade of the axe slide free, flinging the fine mist of Curran’s blood into the air. My heart was beating too loud in my head.

Curran dropped his guard. Hugh continued the stroke with his left axe, bringing it up and cleaving with dizzying speed. Curran knocked Hugh’s arm aside before Hugh could bury his right axe head in Curran’s side. Instead, the blade grazed Curran’s side. Move faster, baby. Move. Move!

Curran leaped back. His left side bled. The cut on his stomach couldn’t have been deep, but it bled, too.

Hugh flicked his axes and flung the blood at Curran. Red spray splashed over Curran’s neck and chest. He’d flicked Curran’s own blood at him. Asshole. Hugh smiled. Curran stepped forward, his hands raised, aiming for Hugh’s face. Hugh spun, picking up momentum, and sliced at Curran’s midsection in a horizontal cut with his right axe, leaving his face wide open. It’s a trap, Curran. Don’t!

Curran dodged and rammed his forearm into Hugh’s jaw. No.

Hugh staggered back, leaning back, turning the energy of the impact into his own blow, and chopped at Curran’s left side. The axe bit into flesh at least two inches deep. Damn it all to hell!

Curran danced back. Hugh lunged forward, slicing at Curran’s leading leg. Curran dodged left, jerked his fists up, and brought them down like a hammer toward Hugh’s head.

What was he doing? I kicked the snow. Curran was better than this. I fought him every day in our gym. He was better than this.

Hugh jerked his axes up, hafts crossed, caught Curran’s arms, and pulled the axes apart, letting Curran’s blow slide off. Curran kicked with his left leg, sweeping Hugh’s leading leg out from under him. D’Ambray rolled on the ground and sprang back up. Curran chased him. They moved across the overpass, cutting and blocking, each blow fast and hard enough to knock most fighters out of the fight.

The undead horde behind us was growing closer and closer.

Curran was cut in four places. His blood was all over the overpass. Hugh favored his right leg, but he showed no signs of tiring. His axes cleaved, chopped, and carved, one second aiming to sever an arm, the next threatening Curran’s chest. I began to pace back and forth. It was that or I’d explode.

Another graze of the axe. Another open wound. More blood.

Curran was taking too much damage, even for a shapeshifter. I wouldn’t lose him on this stupid bridge. This wasn’t the way it ended. It couldn’t be. Hugh would not take him from me.

The door behind us shuddered under the press of undead bodies. Finish it. Finish it, Curran.

Hugh reversed the blow and rammed the top of his right axe head into Curran’s midsection. Curran staggered and Hugh smashed the haft of his left axe into Curran’s skull.

My heart clenched into a painful hard ball.

Curran bent forward, dazed.

D’Ambray smiled, his grin demonic, and swung the two axes at once. Stupid flashy move. In my mind the blades connected, like razor-sharp scissors slicing closed. Curran’s head slid off his shoulders . . . My throat closed. I couldn’t take a single breath.

Curran surged up, grabbed Hugh’s wrists, planted his foot into the left side of Hugh’s stomach, and fell back. Hugh tumbled forward, pulled by Curran’s weight. Curran swung his right leg over Hugh’s neck. Hugh crashed to the ground on his back and Curran rolled up on top of him, Hugh’s arm clamped in his hands, one leg over Hugh’s throat, the other over his chest. Juji Gatame, the most powerful armlock in judo.

Curran bent back and pulled the arm. Hugh screamed as his shoulder joint came apart. His rotator cuff must’ve torn. Triceps too, probably. Curran arched his hips. Hugh’s elbow joint popped like a chopstick snapping. Yes! Heal that, you sonovabitch.

Hugh roared and tried to chop at Curran with his remaining axe.

Curran rolled clear.

Hugh staggered to his feet. His left arm hung useless. It was over now. Curran would take him apart piece by piece. Hugh’s face was ashen. He was beaten and he knew it.

Hugh swung his axe. Curran leaned out of the way and hammered a quick punch into Hugh’s face. Ooo, broken nose. Curran spun and kicked him in the chest. Bone crunched. Hugh flew back and crashed into the snow.

The door creaked. In my mind, the space behind the door was just a wall of undeath.

“Shoot the left gunner,” Ghastek said quietly.

Andrea blinked.

The two gunners stood together, the right hidden by the blast shield, the left standing so just the top of his face protruded above the shield as he craned his neck to watch the fight. It was an impossible shot. We were too far away and the target was about the size of a large matchbox.

“Shoot. The left. Gunner,” Ghastek repeated, pronouncing each word exactly.

Andrea snapped her rifle up and fired.

The bullet punched the left gunner right between the eyes.

Ghastek’s scarred vampire shot out from under the bridge and knocked the remaining gunner off his feet. His second vampire leaped onto the Iron Dogs from the other side. Ha! He must’ve sent them under the bridge while we were watching the fight. They had crawled on the bridge’s sides out of sight, and now Hugh had no gun.

Hugh rolled to his feet.

Curran pounced on Hugh. The preceptor of the Order of Iron Dogs tried to kick him. Curran grabbed Hugh’s foot and kicked at the leading leg. Hugh’s knee popped.

In front of me, two of the four remaining Iron Dogs jerked their guns up. Andrea’s rifle barked twice, the shots so close they were almost one sound, and Hugh’s people fell.

The door creaked and groaned under the press of the vampires. We were out of time.

I sprinted to Curran and Hugh.

Curran knocked Hugh off his feet and ground his face into the bridge. I grabbed Curran’s arm. “We have to go.”

He bared his teeth.

“Now!”

Christopher, the two wererats, Nasrin, Naeemah, Ghastek, and Andrea dashed by. Behind us the door burst. An avalanche of vampires poured out onto the overpass. They tumbled over each other, a single huge mass of writhing undead flesh.

Jim landed next to me, his eyes pure green. “Come on!”

We ran.

The undead avalanche rolled over the overpass, dropping loose vampires. Hugh tried to rise. He got to his knees, saw the vampires, and froze. The undead wave crested and swallowed him whole. Bye, Hugh. Have fun with my father’s vampires. It was nice knowing you.

Andrea dropped into the E-50’s gunner seat. Jim landed next to her. The rest of us ran by the gun. I looked over my shoulder. The E-50 whirled and spat a steady stream of bullets, ripping the front line of undead into mush. But the undead horde itself hadn’t even slowed.

I reached behind me with my magic, trying to hold back the horde. It was like trying to block a tide with my fingers. There were too many, and their magic blended them into an unstoppable cataclysmic force.

“Fuck it!” Andrea leaped out of the gunner seat. Jim followed her, abandoning the gun.

Curran grabbed my arm and hauled me forward. I didn’t run, I flew, the air turning into fire in my lungs.

A door to the outside loomed before us, the only break in the sheer wall. We were about to run out of the bridge.

Christopher reached the door and screamed something. Robert dashed to the left, to the other side of the door, and grabbed a lever protruding from the wall. A square section of the wall, about a foot wide, slid open next to Christopher, revealing a complex mechanism of gears and metal dials. Christopher began to turn the dials.

We crashed into the gate. I vomited on the ground.

The mechanism next to Christopher clicked. The door swung open, revealing a narrow stone passageway. An identical door blocked it just twenty feet ahead.

“Hold the lever,” Christopher yelled. “Turn the right gear on your side when I tell you. If you let go, all doors close. They’ll be trapped.”

Robert leaned on the lever. I had no idea how Christopher knew the combination to the gates of Mishmar, but if we survived, I would find out.

Christopher turned the dials.

The second gate opened.

The vampires were almost on us. They swelled behind us, climbing on top of each other, biting, fighting. If they could run, we’d be dead already, but there were too many of them and they trampled each other.

“Go!” Christopher yelled. “Go!”

We wouldn’t make it. I halted by them and pushed the undead horde back. It was like trying to hold back a train. The writhing mass slowed, but it still kept rolling. Curran stopped by me.

Nasrin ran past us. Thomas and Naeemah followed. Jim and Andrea dashed by. Ghastek, his face a mask of complete concentration, moved back slowly.

The pressure on my mind ground me. I shook. I couldn’t hold them. There were too many. Even if we made it through the gates, the horde would chase us. We couldn’t kill them all.

“Go now, mistress!” Christopher yelled.

In my mind, I saw Aunt B standing in front of the gate. No. Not today. Nobody is sacrificing themselves on my account today. I couldn’t go through that again.

Curran pulled my arm. I pulled back. “I’m not going without them.”

The undead minds blended into a single red fire. My mental defenses broke. I staggered back.

Curran swept me off my feet and ran through the passageway.

“Put me down,” I snarled.

“No.” Curran clamped me tighter. “I’m not losing you.”

The third gate opened ahead of us. Beyond, a wide, snow-covered field stretched. Curran carried me outside, dropped me to my feet, and clamped me to him.

“Robert!” Thomas screamed.

Robert leaned into the doorway. I saw Christopher next to him. The slight blond man smiled, his face mournful. Behind them the vampire wave crested, feet away.

No! No, not again, no, no!

Robert looked over his shoulder at the undead horde, then back at Thomas.

Don’t do it.

“Don’t!” Thomas screamed.

“I love you,” Robert said, and let go of the lever.

The gates crashed into place, blocking the undead avalanche. Thomas howled. It was a scream of pure pain, made of grief and despair.

Not again. Everything I kept inside in the deep dark place I had stuffed it so I could function tore out of me. Aunt B’s sacrifice, Mauro dying, Robert, Christopher, all of it spilled out of me in a torrent of helpless grief and I couldn’t hold it back.

I was still screaming when Curran carried me away from Mishmar into the winter.

• • •

I SAT WRAPPED in a blanket by a fire built in the remains of a crumbled gas station. The roof and most of the walls were gone, but a corner of it still stood and shielded the fire from the wind.

Andrea, Jim, Nasrin, and Naeemah had fallen asleep. Even Ghastek gave up and passed out, but not before we had found a huge chain to tether his two ancient vampires to a tree. He’d killed the third. It was too taxing to control all of them and he was tired.

Thomas had gone into the night. He wanted to be alone. So did I.

Curran sat next to me. “They knew what they signed up for.”

“They’re dead, because of me.” My voice sounded hollow. “They came on this mission to rescue me and now they’re dead. Christopher wasn’t even in his right mind. He tried to warn me. He was trying to describe Mishmar to me. His voice was shaking. Going back there terrified him out of his mind, but he did it anyway and now he’s been ripped apart by undead. I promised him I would get him out alive. I gave my word. He trusted me. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I can’t do this. I save people. Not the other way around.”

“Sometimes it is,” Curran said.

My whole chest hurt, as if someone had removed my insides and replaced them with a clump of icy needles. “I just wonder who’ll be next. Who is Roland going to go after next? Julie? Derek?”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said. “It’s a cycle, Kate. We fight for the Pack, they fight for us. We bleed, they bleed. Sometimes people die. Everyone who came with me came of their own free will. They knew where we were going. They all knew there was a good chance that not everybody would make it out. This isn’t the first fight or the last. People will sacrifice themselves for us again, and we’ll do the same. I don’t know how bad the future will be, but I promise you, we’ll deal with it. You and I. Together.”

I curled into a ball under the blankets. He wrapped his arm around me.

The hollow feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away. My memory served up Robert’s face and then the look on Thomas’s when the gates had slammed shut. It made my chest hurt.

I had gotten out of Mishmar. I had kept Ghastek alive. But Christopher and Robert had traded their lives for ours. I didn’t want that trade.

I couldn’t bear it.

• • •

I CROUCHED ON top of Hugh’s castle, with fire raging all around me. Smoke filled my lungs. Below, Aunt B roared, pinned down by silver chains protruding from the body of a mage. The Iron Dogs shot her, again and again, each arrow puncturing her body. Hibla stepped forward and swung her sword. The metal gleamed in the light of the fire and Aunt B’s head rolled down off her shoulders. It rolled to my feet, looked at me with Christopher’s blue eyes, and said in Robert’s voice, “You have to prepare to sacrifice your friends.”

A foreign presence brushed against my mind. My eyes snapped open.

I raised my head. Curran was holding me. Everyone was asleep, except for Jim, who sat on top of the ruined wall keeping watch. He nodded at me, his eyes catching the light of the flames. A log popped, sending sparks into the cold.

Sleeping was overrated.

There it was again, a gentle nudge of foreign magic. It seemed to emanate from the tree where the vampires sat tethered. I reached toward it. The two vampiric minds glowed weakly. Behind them in the field a third undead mind waited, motionless. Now what?

I slipped out of Curran’s arms. He opened his eyes.

“I’ll be back,” I told him. “Bathroom.”

I rose and walked off toward the tree, the snow crunching under my feet. The sky was moonless, but the snow made the night seem lighter. Both vampires sat very still. They’d been straining at their chains after Ghastek fell asleep, but now they didn’t move a muscle. Something wasn’t right.

I passed the vampires. Their eyes were dull, a sure indication that someone held their minds in a steel grip. It wasn’t Ghastek—he was out like a light. The third undead mind was right in front of me, in the field, about two hundred yards downwind.

I walked past the bloodsuckers and leaned on the other side of the tree. Whoever held the third vampire probably held these two, and I wasn’t going into that field alone.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“Your friends are alive,” a quiet male voice said.

Hope fluttered through me. I caught it and choked it to death. He was lying. Nobody could’ve escaped that horde. The sheer number of undead had been too much for anyone to hold back, except possibly my father.

“There is an undead directly south of you in the field,” the quiet male voice said. “I’m about to let him go. Please take hold of it.”

The third vampire’s mind flared and I clamped down on it with my magic.

“I’m waiting for you two miles south. We can speak there in some privacy.”

I pushed the vampire south. It ran through the snow, the feedback from its mind overlaying mine, as if I were watching what it saw on a translucent screen. Another minute or two and Curran would come looking for me. I walked back to Jim.

“I can’t sleep. Let me take the watch.”

Jim peered at me. “You sure?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m going to sit on that log and think things through.” I pointed to a log about a hundred yards out. If I kept my voice down, they wouldn’t hear me.

“Want me to come with you?” Curran asked.

“No. I’d like some alone time.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. “As you wish.”

I love you, too.

I went and sat on the log. Jim lay down. Curran was lying down too, but I was pretty sure he was watching me. If we had traded places, I’d be watching him.

I sat quietly with my back to Curran as my vampire dashed across the snow. It cleared the open field, then the brush, the strip of woods . . . I glanced back at the camp. Curran was lying on his back. Awake. He usually turned on his side to sleep unless I was lying next to him, my head resting on his chest.

The woods ended. The vampire shot into the open onto the crest of a gently rising hill. A man stood there wrapped in a scarlet-red cloak, frayed and torn at the edges. His long dark hair fell loose around his face. Tall forehead, high sculpted cheekbones, strong square chin, dark eyes, handsome and fit, judging by the way he stood. A Native American, not young, but ageless in the same way Hugh was ageless, stuck forever somewhere around thirty.

The man inclined his head. “Sharrim.”

It was an Akkadian word. It meant “of the king.” My voice came out of the vampire’s mouth effortlessly. “Don’t call me that.”

“As you wish.”

I almost told him not to say that either, but the explanation would take too long.

“Look below,” the man invited.

I brought the vampire to the edge of the hill. Below me the ground rolled down to another field. Vampires filled it. They sat in neat rows, held in formation by navigators’ minds. There had to be upward of two hundred and probably at least half as many navigators. Too many for me. Holding back the undead horde had given me some perspective. If I grabbed all of the undead in that valley, I could possibly hold them long enough for the rest of our party to make a run for it, but my control over them would be measured in seconds.

“My name is Landon Nez,” the man standing next to me said. “I serve your father.”

Right to the point. Apparently, I could stop pretending not to be related to Roland.

“Hugh d’Ambray is the preceptor of the Order of Iron Dogs. I’m the Legatus of the Golden Legion. Do you know what that means?”

It meant we were all in deep trouble. I knew exactly zip about Landon Nez. The Legati didn’t last long, because Roland was demanding and didn’t tolerate mistakes. The last Legatus my adoptive father had known, Melissa Rand, died about two years after Voron did. “It means you’re in charge of the Masters of the Dead, you answer directly to Roland, and your life expectancy is rather short.”

“In a manner of speaking. Your father chooses the People’s policies and I implement them. I’m the brain to d’Ambray’s brawn.”

“Did Hugh survive?”

“Yes.”

How . . . ?

“Does that distress you?” Landon asked.

“No, I’m just wondering what it is I have to do to kill him.”

Landon raised his eyebrows an eighth of an inch. “I’ve often wondered the same thing. I’m positive that if I set him on fire and spread the ashes into the wind, he wouldn’t regenerate.”

“Have you tried it?”

“Not yet. But I’ve imagined doing it many times.”

The enemy of my enemy is not my friend. Not even a little bit. “What do you want?”

“Hugh had his shot. He failed. It’s my turn. I’ve been authorized to offer you this.”

He held up a photograph. On it, Christopher and Robert sat next to each other at a table. Robert’s smart eyes were blank. Wet tracks marked Christopher’s face, and his eyes were red. He had wept. He was back in the hands of the man who’d broken his mind. I would walk on crushed glass barefoot to get him out and my father knew it. Now, he was using it against me.

“They are unhurt,” Landon said. “His offer is as follows: if you can walk into Jester Park, take them by the hand, and walk them out, all three of you will be granted safe passage out of his territory. You must come alone. Whether you succeed or fail, the people who are waiting for you by the fire will be permitted to return to Atlanta unmolested.”

“And if I refuse?”

Landon turned to the vampires. “He wants to see you. If you choose to ignore his invitation, the two men will die and I will unleash what you see here on your camp. He has no doubt that you will survive the massacre. Perhaps the werelion may survive as well. The rest won’t be so lucky. The choice is yours.”

The werelion would not survive. We both knew it.

Robert’s words came back to me. But now they know you have a weakness and they will use it against you. They will take someone you love and threaten to kill them, because they know you won’t pass up that bait. I know it, they know it, and now you must understand it. You have to prepare to sacrifice your friends.

I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t in me. I couldn’t sacrifice the people who had risked everything to keep me breathing. I couldn’t let Curran or anyone else by that fire die here in this nameless field.

I looked at the Golden Legion waiting below. It was only a small fraction of what Roland could bring out, and I knew my father wouldn’t stop. He would keep culling my friends one by one, until I stood alone. Everyone I cared about had become a target. I’d known it would happen. Voron had warned me about this. He had taught me that friends made you vulnerable. I ignored his warning. I started it all with my eyes open and chose to let people into my life, knowing I would have to one day face the consequences. Now it was my responsibility to keep them safe.

It had to end. I had to end it now. I had to face my father.

If I did this on Roland’s terms, Curran and I would be over. I had promised Curran that when the time came, we would face Roland together. He loved me, but if I told him that he had to sit on his hands while I went to my death, he would leave me. He would forgive me almost anything else, but not that. But if we went there together, it would be double suicide.

“How did Hugh and my people survive?” I asked.

“Your father was watching. He held the undead and my people went down to retrieve the two men and the preceptor.”

If he wasn’t lying, it meant my father stopped that entire undead mob with a single effort of his will. The scope of that power was staggering. Curran and I wouldn’t get out alive.

“Tell me why I should trust you.”

“A fair question.” Landon tilted his head. “If your father simply wanted to capture or kill you, he could’ve done it a number of times. That is one of the reasons d’Ambray is out of favor. Teleportation is too unpredictable for anything but escape from certain death. He took an unnecessary risk with his life and with yours. The relevant question is why d’Ambray did it. Why imprison you inside Mishmar when he could’ve simply teleported you to Jester Park or dragged you there in handcuffs? The instruction given to d’Ambray was exactly the same as the one given to me.”

“And that is?”

“Persuade you to come to Jester Park of your own free will.”

“Why?”

“Your father has his reasons. He chose not to share them with me. But you should know that when he gives his word, he doesn’t lie.”

I laughed under my breath. Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

“Yes or no?” Landon asked quietly.

If I went, Curran would try to come with me and we both would probably die. If I told Curran no, we would be over and I would probably die. If I told Landon no, everybody would die. No good choices.

It was my turn to make sure the person I loved made it out of Mishmar alive. I could just sneak out in the middle of the night. Or lock Curran in a blood ward as soon as the magic wave came. Even if he broke through the ward, it would take the wind out of his sails and he couldn’t follow me.

Except I loved him. After our last fight, he promised me he would always be honest with me. I had promised him the same thing, and now I had to play by the rules.

“I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“I need an answer,” Landon said.

I stared at him. He didn’t look fazed.

It took me a full ten seconds to realize he couldn’t see my psycho stare through the vampire’s eyes. Nice going there, champ. “You’ll get your answer in the morning. If you did your homework, you know that I think logic and restraint are overrated. If you push me, I’ll get my people and see how many of this famed Golden Legion I can kill.”

“You’ll lose,” Landon said.

“Yes, but I’ll have a great time and take a hell of a lot of you with me. In the past few days, I’ve been threatened, teleported, drowned, starved, and locked in a cage while being forced to watch as people I care about died. I have so much rage in me, I’m having trouble keeping it inside. If you push me, you have my word that I’ll make it my personal mission to find you in the melee and slice your head from your body. I’d enjoy it. It would be fun for me. If you somehow manage to survive, you’ll have to go back to my father and explain how you had me in your grasp, but you were too clumsy and you failed, just like Hugh, and now a lot of vampires and I are dead. Somehow I doubt he would accept my head as a consolation prize. You’ll have my answer in the morning.”

I let go of the vampire’s mind, got up, and moved over to the fire. Curran still lay on his back.

“I know you’re awake.” I lay down next to him.

He opened his gray eyes and looked at me. I loved him so much, it hurt. I loved everything about him. The way his eyes lightened when he laughed. The way they shone with little gold sparks when he wanted me. The way his thick eyebrows came together when he was pissed off. I loved his nose that never healed right. I loved the stubble on his cheeks and the hard line of his jaw. I loved that he called me on my bullshit. I laughed at his jokes and I loved that he laughed at mine. I loved that no matter where I was he would come for me. That he would always be there, helping me cut my way through the mess that was life.

I leaned over to him and kissed him. I kissed him, trying to tell him all of the things I couldn’t put into words. I tried to tell him that I loved him, that he meant everything to me, and that I would fight for him. Nobody would take him away from me, because if they tried, I would carve a path right through them. He kissed me back, and tasting him was heaven. He was right here, alive, warm, and mine—but only until tomorrow. I held on to him. I’d just gotten him back. I couldn’t lose him. Not now.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I love you, too.” His gray eyes searched my face. “Something happened and it’s bad.”

“Yep. I got a visit from Landon Nez.”

“Who is he?”

“The Legatus of the Golden Legion. Hugh oversees the Iron Dogs; he’s Roland’s brute strength. Landon leads the Masters of the Dead. He is Ghastek’s boss.”

Curran’s face slid into a neutral mask. “What did he want?”

“He showed me a photograph of Robert and Christopher. They are alive. My father watched your duel with Hugh and then plucked Christopher and Robert out of Mishmar and took them to Jester Park.”

“Could the photograph be a fake?” Curran asked.

“Roland wouldn’t bother,” I told him. “My father is waiting in Jester Park. He wants to see me. I’m to come alone. If I can walk into Jester Park and claim our people, we can all go home. If not, Landon has about two hundred vampires parked two miles south of us.”

Curran’s face was impenetrable. I knew exactly what he was thinking, though. I could tell by the way he sat, very still, and by his eyes. They had iced over.

“Do you think your father is lying?” Curran asked.

“No.”

“We have two options,” he said, his voice quiet and calm. “Option one, you tell them no and we fight our way out. But we can’t win in a straight fight.”

“I agree. I could possibly kill some bloodsuckers, but all of them will be controlled by Masters of the Dead at least of Ghastek’s level. Before killing any of the vampires, I would have to wrestle all these navigators for control of their minds. It takes effort and time.”

“We’d be overrun.” Curran pondered the flames. “We could split now and run. There’s a chance they’ll come at us in smaller groups. It takes time and maneuvering to get two hundred vampires moving. But as soon as we stopped to fight one group, the rest would catch up.”

“Also, Robert and Christopher die.”

We looked at the fire. “This is one hell of a date,” I said.

“Trapped by a horde of vampires in the middle of a snow-covered field, huddling around a tiny fire on thin blankets,” Curran said. “Drink it in, baby. All this luxury just for you.”

“At least it’s not raining.”

We both looked up just in case a freak downpour decided to drench us, but the night sky was clear. Nothing but stars and desperation.

I didn’t want to die.

“If we make it too expensive for the Golden Legion, would they cut their losses?” Curran asked.

“No. I think Roland has made up his mind. As long as Landon has a single vampire left, he will try to get me.” Our options were shrinking with every word. I leaned against him. “Robert told me that if you didn’t come back and the question of my leadership of the Pack came up, some alphas might vote no confidence.”

Curran growled low under his breath. “Robert says a lot of things.”

“Ted had locked us in a cage at the chapterhouse and Hugh had killed all of the knights. He got a hold of Ascanio and threatened to kill him. He was healing him and then unhealing, back and forth, and I told him if he saved the boy, I would come out of the cage.”

“Sounds like you.”

“Robert thought that I lacked the ruthlessness to be in charge. I should’ve let Ascanio die, because Hugh getting his hands on me would’ve been a disaster for the Pack.”

“He was right,” Curran said.

“I agree. But I can’t do it. I can’t turn my back on Robert and Christopher. I just can’t. It’s not in me.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s who you are. But I’m ruthless enough for both of us. Roland thinks you might be his daughter. He wants you to come to him. He wants a big show. Either you’re an impostor and you’ll die in front of an audience, or you’re real and he gets to show you off. Even if you walk out of there, there will be no more hiding. That’s why you’re not going.”

“I have to go and see him, Curran. If it’s not Christopher and Robert, then the next time it will be Julie, or Derek, or you in the photograph. I can’t keep doing this.”

He faced me, his eyes hard. “No.”

“Yes.”

His eyes sparked with gold. I looked into his irises. The urge to freeze gripped me. There it was, the Beast Lord’s famous alpha glare. I hadn’t seen it for a while.

His voice came out deep and ragged, as if the leonine snarl cut the words to pieces as they tried to break out of his mouth. “Kate, no. You’re not going. I mean it.”

I had to convince him or this thing between us would be over. I racked my brain trying to scrounge up smart, persuasive words, the right words, but I had nothing.

He was still staring at me, waiting.

Fuck it. “I love you. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to argue. I have to do this, because like you said, this is who I am. I don’t abandon the people who fought for me. If I compromise on this, soon I’ll compromise on other things and then I won’t be me anymore. I can’t let my father bend me into something I’m not. I won’t. I know it’s stupid and reckless, but I have to at least try, Curran. I have to try and I’m afraid.”

The alpha stare died.

“I won’t ask you to stand with me,” I said. “I don’t want you to come, because he’s forcing me to challenge him and if you come with me, you would be challenging him, too. I’m not sure I’ll come through this alive and even if I do, he’ll come after me with everything he has. I want you to live and be happy, Curran. I want you to survive. I want to marry you and have your children, but if I die, I want you to marry and have kids with someone who would make you happy. I want you to live. All I ask is that you let me have what’s left of this night with you. Don’t leave me now over this and don’t fight with me about it. I need you. Please.”

Curran pulled me to him. His arms closed around me and for a moment I felt safe. It was an illusion, but I didn’t care.

“We go together,” he said.

“No.”

“I don’t tell you what battles to fight. Don’t tell me when to fight mine.”

“Curran, there is no turning back after this . . .”

He shook his head. “I love you. We go together.”

“But . . .”

“No,” he said. “Not up for discussion.”

Oh, you stupid idiot. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Yes. But I’m a demon in the sack.”

I laughed. “Okay then. That fixes everything.”

“That’s right, it does.”

I fell asleep in his arms by the slowly dying fire in the cold snowed-in field. I wouldn’t have traded it for the most luxurious palace.

• • •

THE MORNING BROUGHT a magic wave and even harsher cold. I opened my eyes. The sky above me was crystalline blue. I pulled back the blanket, leaving the warmth Curran and I had shared through the night, and sat up. Pure white snow stretched as far as I could see, sparkling in the morning sun like crushed crystal.

Beautiful day.

Curran jumped to his feet. I rolled one blanket up, he rolled the other, and we checked the backpacks.

Andrea watched us. “Both of you have your business faces on.”

“We have someplace to be,” I said.

“Rise and shine,” Curran called out.

The rest of the group awoke instantly, all except Ghastek, who seemed dead to the world. One, two, three . . . Naeemah was missing. Well, we rescued her, she helped us get out of Mishmar. I suppose that made us even. Hopefully Landon’s vampires had let her pass.

Andrea was on her feet. “What are you doing?”

“I have to visit Roland,” I told her. “He has Robert and Christopher.”

“Robert is dead,” Thomas said, his voice raw.

“There is a possibility he isn’t,” Curran said.

Thomas froze. A muscle in his face jerked. “Then I’m coming with you.” Thomas grabbed his pack.

“You can’t go,” Curran said, his voice calm. “If you go, he dies. Roland’s condition, not ours.”

Thomas dropped the bag and moved forward, the line of his shoulders set. His eyes turned green. His nostrils flared.

Curran blocked his way.

For a second I thought Thomas would collide with him, but the alpha rat stopped an inch from Curran. The two men squared off. Thomas was six three and built like he could push trucks over, but in a fight Curran would break him.

Gold drowned Curran’s irises. “Look at me. This is a direct order. Stay put. If you go, you go through me.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment.

“Stand down,” Curran said, his voice quiet.

Thomas turned on his heel and swore.

“There are vampires south of us,” I said. “I’m going to set a blood ward. It will protect you as long as the magic holds. Jester Park is less than two hours away by car. Stay put. We will be back.”

Ghastek sat up on his blanket. “What’s going on?”

“And if you don’t come back?” Andrea asked me.

“Then you may have to fight your way out,” Curran said. “Roland’s people promised us safe passage, but I don’t trust them and you shouldn’t either.”

“How many vampires?” Jim asked.

“About two hundred.” I pulled Sarrat out of its sheath, cut my arm, and began making a circle around them in the snow.

The color drained from Andrea’s face. “Two hundred. Piece of cake.”

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Ghastek demanded.

The last drops of blood connected with the first. The magic stretched from me, pooling over the circle of blood. I severed the tie. A wall of red shot up and vanished. The blood ward was set.

Behind me the snow crunched. I turned. Landon strode toward me, his tattered red cloak like a ragged red wound against the snow.

Ghastek opened his mouth and closed it again.

Landon stopped a few feet away. The wind tugged on his cloak and long dark hair.

“I’m coming with her,” Curran said.

“That’s not possible,” Landon said.

Curran grinned and I felt an urge to step back. “Is Roland afraid of what I might do? Am I that scary?”

“Baiting me or him will accomplish nothing,” Landon said.

“Tell him that if he ever loved my mother, he will understand,” I said.

Landon murmured something under his breath. We waited. The wind bit at us with icy fangs. When they described dramatic standoffs in the snow in stories, nobody ever mentioned freezing your ass off. I hopped up and down, trying to warm up. If this got any more dramatic, pieces of me would start falling off.

“He’ll see you,” Landon said.

Ghastek rose.

“Mr. Stefanoff,” Landon said to him. “Your services and conduct during these events are greatly appreciated. Once the magic is down, a car will come to retrieve you.”

The familiar roar of an enchanted engine rocked through the plain. A silver Land Rover slid from behind the distant trees, heading for us. Curran and I began walking toward it. Landon caught up.

“You’ve used Kalina’s name,” Landon said. “For your sake, I hope you’re the real thing.”