Curran POV, Vol II (3 page)
Mahon bellowed in pain.
I leaped free and bit his nose. The bear paw caught my side. I took the hit- it hurt like hell- and swatted at his nose, cutting it. One, two, three. Again. Again.
He charged me again, his head lowered. I veered right, closed my jaws on his injured ear and bit the rest of it off. The Bear roared, in pain and fury.
I spat the ear out and knocked it toward him with my paw. No, you can keep it. Doesn't taste that great.
The massive Kodiak bellowed like a foghorn and stood up.
Yep, that did it, now he was good and pissed.
With an earth-shattering roar he lumbered toward me, all bear, no human thought or strategy now, motivated by pure rage and pain. It would be his undoing or mine.
*** *** ***
Mahon rose on his hind legs. Curran limped away. His side was bleeding-a bad sign. The Lyc-V wasn't keeping up with the repairs.
Mahon kept moving. Curran backed to the edge of the balcony. No place to go.
If I lost him here, to this idiotic fight, after I fought and guarded him for two weeks, after I cried and thought he was dying, I would find him in the afterlife and I would murder him again.
Mahon swung, too wide. Curran ducked under the huge claws, shockingly fast, and dug his own claws into the bear's left hind leg and bit down hard.
I knew how much pressure those jaws could unleash. He bit through the fur and the muscle, and then Mahon's leg folded like a broken toothpick, as the huge feline fangs crushed his bones.
Curran twisted and kicked out with his back legs, a move no lion could ever think of without a human brain driving it. His battered body swung and his back crashed into Mahon's uninjured leg. For half a second, the bear remained upright by sheer force of will, and then he crashed, falling backward, like a giant with his legs cut.
Oh my god.
Curran rolled out of the way before the enormous bulk could crush him. As he lay on his back, Curran placed his front paws and weight on his chest. The massive leonine head dipped down. Curran opened his mouth. His jaws closed on Mahon's neck and held it, easy, almost gently.
A huge brown paw rose and fell.
It was over. Curran won.
*** *** ***
I lay in the snow, exhausted. My body flowed into the familiar human form. Everything hurt. My body felt too hot, like I was burning from inside out.
"Good fight, boy," Mahon boomed from somewhere to the right. "I'm proud of you."
"Shut up."
The snow was melting around me. The icy liquid felt good on my skin. Well, that's downright pleasant. I could lay here for a while, as long as I didn't have to move.
"Still think she is worth it?" Mahon asked quietly.
"Of course. She is my mate."
Mahon sighed. "So you decided then."
"Do you think we'd be laying here bleeding in the snow if I wasn't sure?"
"Good point."
I picked up a handful of snow and put it on my face. Mmmm… That's nice.
"I hoped she would be one of us," Mahon said.
"Well, you can't always get what you hope for. I hoped my own people wouldn't try to murder my mate while I lay dying."
"It never came to that," Mahon said. "She is stronger than any of us knew."
"I knew."
"I figured." Mahon sighed again. "She will never understand us completely."
"It's not always about you. This time it's about me. She understands me and that's enough."
Some sort of commotion was taking place behind the door.
"We're never doing this again," Mahon said.
"That's up to you. Any time you need me to remind you…"
Mahon chuckled. "I've raised you too well."
The door flew off its hinges and slid across the snow, Derek on it. Well, couldn't say the kid didn't try.
Martha stormed onto the balcony.
"Oh-oh," Mahon murmured.
Mahon's wife stared down at us. Her hands went to her hips. "Which one of you idiots wants to explain to me what the hell is going on?"
With great effort I raised my arm and pointed in Mahon's general direction. "Him."
Kate appeared in the doorway.
"What did you do to the boy?" Martha demanded.
"What did I do to him? What did he do to me!"
Kate knelt by me. I raised my hand and touched her cheek.
"You are an idiot," she told me.
"I know. Martha already pointed that out."
"Is it settled?" Martha demanded. It didn't seem aimed at me so I didn't answer.
"Yes," Mahon said.
"Good. Get up."
There was some movement and then the two of them shambled off back to the door and the light of the Keep. As they passed us, Mahon dipped his head. "M'lord. M'lady."
Then they were gone. Derek followed them, carrying the door.
"You want to leave?" Kate asked.
"Not yet."
She sat in the snow next to me. I put my arm around her, puling her close. Derek fit the door back in place. We were all alone. Just us, snow, and the stars.
"That was a nice move with the jump," she said.
"You saw?"
"I saw."
I smiled. "I kicked his ass."
"Yes, you did. That snow has to be freezing. You need help getting to your feet, ass-kicker?"
"That's my line."
She laughed quietly. "I can't carry you, you know."
"Give me another five minutes. I should be able to walk."
We sat in the snow and watched the stars. Tomorrow I'd have to deal with all of their shit again. But tonight was ours. We earned it.
THE END
Ilona Andrews is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing team. Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101, where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.)
Gordon and Ilona currently reside in Oregon with their two children, three dogs and a cat. They have co-authored two series, the bestselling urban fantasy of
Kate Daniels
and romantic urban fantasy of
The Edge
.
