Magic Binds (16 page)

“How did you get here?” I asked her.

“Derek dropped me off.”

I opened the car and she climbed into the passenger seat.

“For the sahanu, there is only one way to receive the ultimate reward in the afterlife. They must die in service to your blood. If one of the blood kills them or if they manage to kill one of the blood on the orders of another, they get to the extra-special level of heaven. If they fail, they are condemned to a frozen hell. It's sick and twisted.”

And I had no idea if she was telling me the truth or only what my father wanted me to hear. I'd have to verify this. If this was true, then it explained Adora's panic at being set free. And now she was my dirty secret. I had no idea how to break it to Curran.

“Are you mad at me?” Julie asked, her voice small.

“No.” I was plenty mad at myself. “I'm worried.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said.

“He will hurt you. That's what he does.”

She smiled, her face in profile with the backdrop of the evening sky behind it. She looked so young right then, but her smile was bitter.

“When I talk to him, I never forget what he did to Hugh.”

Ouch.

“Promise me you will never do that to me.”

“I will never exile you. I will never prevent you from leaving.”
I sank enough magic into those words to make a dozen wards.

She hugged her knees.

“You're my daughter, Julie. But you have to promise me that if you see me treat people the way my father does, you will leave.”

“Don't say that.”

“Promise me, Julie.”

“Okay. I will leave. But you're not going to do that, right?”

“Right.” I would fight to my last breath to remain me. I didn't know if I could win, but I'd be damned if I gave up.

Hold on, Father. We will have a conversation regarding my kid and everything else. I promise you that.

•   •   •

W
HEN WE GOT
home, Curran wasn't there. Walking into my kitchen was like putting on my favorite T-shirt. By the time I made myself and Julie a sandwich with bread, cheese, and leftover roasted meat and brewed a cup of tea, I felt almost normal. There was still time to make some phone calls.

I called Teddy Jo first.

“Yes?”

“Hello, winged devil. Are the Pegasuses rideable?”

“Kate?” He sounded startled.

“Yes.”

“Good evening to you, too.”

“Good evening, Teddy Jo. How's life, how's the family? Are the Pegasuses rideable?”

“First, pegasi. It's not the original Pegasus. To answer your question, yes, they are rideable. For the right person.”

Right person, okay. I picked up a legal pad. This was going to cost me.

“You there?”

“Sure.” Hey there, I'm Kate, I came to do my twelve labors. Where do I sign up? I was really beginning to doubt the whole oracle thing. “How do I become the right person?”

A long silence.

“Teddy Jo? Are you okay?”

“Some things you just don't do,” he said. There was an odd finality about his voice that told me he wasn't talking about flying horses.

“Are you in trouble?” I asked.

Silence.

“Level with me. Are you in trouble?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How bad?”

“Bad.”

“How do you get out of trouble?”

Silence.

“It's been a long day, but I don't mind driving to your place if you would rather talk in person.” Translation: my patience is short and I will drive over to wherever you are and shake you until you tell me.

“I'm supposed to arrange a meeting between you and someone else. I was sitting here thinking about it when you called.”

“Is it the kind of meeting I don't walk away from?”

“I don't know.”

“What do they have on you?”

“They have something of mine. Something that I have to have to remain me.” I could hear it in his voice. Whatever they took had him scared, and Teddy Jo didn't scare easily.

“So what you're telling me is, I've been invited to an interesting meeting and you weren't going to tell me. Not cool, Theodore. Not cool.”

“Kate . . .”

I needed to get to Mishmar as soon as I could. But judging by Teddy Jo's voice, he needed help and he needed it now. He was doing a good job of hiding the desperation, but it was there. I had a feeling all of this was somehow connected.

“We've been friends, what, four years now? Five? I expected better of you. Where are we going and when?”

“I'll pick you up tomorrow at your house.” His voice regained some of its normal grumpiness. “Nine o'clock. Wear boots and bring your sword.”

“I always bring my sword.”

Julie brought in a stack of mail and put a white envelope in front of me.

“Good. I'll be bringing a harness.”

“A harness for what?”

“For whom. For you. It's easier to carry you that way.”

I sighed. “Are we flying?”

“I'm flying. If you're lucky, I won't drop you.”

“If you drop me, I'll be very put out.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

I hung up and opened the envelope. Inside on a crisp piece of paper embossed with roses, an outrageously curvy cursive said:

“What is this?”

“It's a wedding invitation,” Julie said.

“I didn't order any.”

Julie grinned at me. “Roman.”

Ugh. That's right. I waved the envelope at her. “It has flowers on it.”

“Did you want gore, swords, and severed heads?” she asked.

Smartass.

Speaking of severed heads . . . I picked up the phone and dialed Sienna's number. She picked up immediately.

“What's the significance of the head?”

“I have no idea.”

“But you knew it was important.”

“The head is an anchor. When you look into the future, some things are out of focus, but some vital events are more clear. Think of it as coming to a crossroads. If you've met the conditions, you take the right fork; if you fail, you take the wrong one.”

“Okay.” That made sense.

“The head was one such point. I saw you turning the head over to some sort of law enforcement. My guess is that Roland's people saw it, too. They knew it was an anchor, and so Roland probably took steps to make sure it didn't happen. Did you have to fight?”

“Yes.”

“And you won?”

“Yes.”

“Then congratulations.”

Congratulations were premature. There were questions about it that bugged me. For one, if my father wanted the head so much, why did he only send one sahanu to get it?

“So these anchors, they're like checkpoints I have to clear?”

“Yes, in a sense.”

“What's the next one?”

“I don't know. I'll call you when I do.”

“Thank you.”

“It's not too late to turn back,” Sienna said. “This is a dangerous path for you. I don't like where it ends.”

“Are we still on track?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Then we'll keep going. Thank you for your help.”

I hung up.

“So the head wasn't even important?” Julie asked.

“Apparently not.”

My phone rang. I picked it up.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Control. Zen. Screaming in ancient languages would not be zen. “You don't say. You enslaved that poor girl. You're despicable, Father.”

“You're a disobedient foolish child. I gave her security and serenity of purpose.”

“So you admit you sent her into my territory?”

“I admit to nothing.”

“Come on, Father. This is unbecoming. I don't understand why you only sent one. Really, you think so little of me?”

“I sent one because I felt one was sufficient. She wasn't meant to kill you, Blossom.”

Ah. She was only meant to disrupt my attempts to keep him from killing everyone else I cared about.

“Return Saiman to me.”

“No. Also, this is utterly ridiculous. Why do I have to choose between the meat and vegetarian option?”

“What?”

“You are the princess of Shinar. Your line stretches back beyond known history. You shouldn't have to make your guests choose a single option. Your wedding should be a feast.”

I pried the wedding card open. Inside a smaller RSVP card said,
Please indicate if you prefer a vegetarian course.

“If he can't pay for a suitable meal for his own wedding, I will provide the kind of feast that will make the tables break. I will make sure that your guests will have a banquet they will never forget. Greater than any your eldest guest can remember and more magnificent than the youngest will ever experience again.”

So help me, I would murder Roman. I'd hack him to pieces with an axe and then hack those pieces into smaller pieces. He'd sent my father an invitation to my wedding.

“Father, you are sending mixed signals. You dispatched a woman to murder me today and now you're upset about my wedding reception?”

“It's not my fault you decided to marry a pauper. Besides, you enjoy a challenge.”

“I can't talk to you anymore. I had a rough day and I'm going to bed.”

“Kate—”

“Stay away from my kid.”

“Perhaps you should ask the child what she wants.”

“I did ask her. She's right here and now I'll have to explain to her that Grandpa is evil and enslaves people. Good night.”

I hung up and looked at Julie.

She recoiled. “He isn't my grandpa!”

“Don't worry, I'm sure it's more disconcerting to him than it is to you.”

I drained the rest of my tea and went to bed.

CHAPTER

E
IGHT HOURS
OF
sleep felt like pure heaven. I woke up and lay on the bed for a long time, happy to not move. Curran sprawled next to me. He'd come home after I went to bed. I must've been more rattled than I thought, because when he walked into the bedroom, I woke up, grabbed Sarrat, and made it two whole steps toward him before I realized what was happening, which earned me a round of applause and calls for an encore. Then he saw the scar and acted as if half of my face had been hacked off. He almost dragged me to the Guild's medmage, but I threatened to stab him and I must've been vigorous enough to reassure him I was in good health. Of all the people I could've decided to marry, I had to choose him.

Afterward he took a shower and fell into bed next to me and we passed out in a happy exhausted tangle. Now I didn't want to get up.

Teddy Jo would be here soon. Ugh.

I rolled out of bed. A hand fastened on my ankle and pulled me back in. I landed next to him. Gray eyes laughed at me.

“How's my face?”

“The scar's looking better.”

“It's a scratch.” It's good he didn't see it before the medmage spent half
an hour on it. According to Ascanio, he would've been able to see into my face.

“So, Julie's home,” he said.

“She is.”

“Have you come to an agreement on Roland?”

“No. The only way to stop her from talking to him is to order it, and she called my bluff. I won't do it.”

“She knows?”

“He told her,” I ground out. “She's known for months.”

The look on Curran's face was priceless. All cold concentrated fury. If he could've gotten his hands on my father in that second, Roland would regret ever learning Julie existed. I kissed him. I loved him for that.

“According to her, she's gathering information on Roland for us,” I said. “There's nothing I can do. I have to trust that she's learned enough in the time we had her and that she's independent enough to fight off his influence.”

“We need to do something about your father. Soon.”

“Yes. He called the house upset about the reception dinner.”

“I know. He called the Guild as well.”

“Really?”

Curran nodded. “He and I had a conversation. I told him that it was a bit late to play father of the year, but if he behaved himself, we would make sure to save him a seat at the wedding.”

I laughed.

The doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock. Eight. Too early for Teddy Jo.

“I got it!” Julie yelled. Quick thumps announced her running down the stairs. “Kate! Kate, it's for you! Kate!”

The urgency in her voice jerked me right out of bed. I grabbed Sarrat and dashed out of the bedroom onto the landing. People filed into our lobby, carrying bolts of white fabric. A short Asian woman in a black dress looked up at me and arched her eyebrows.

I realized I was standing on the landing in a tiny T-shirt and underwear, holding a sword.

“Who are you?”

“I'm Fiona Katsura.”

Clan Nimble. “Why are you in my house?”

“I'm here to fit your wedding dress.”

“I didn't—”

“Of course, you didn't. You didn't mean any disrespect.” Fiona put her hands on her hips. “Our family has been designing wedding dresses for three generations. We don't just sew, we create art. Designers come all the way from as far as Los Angeles and London for a chance to look at our work. Customers take out loans to purchase one of our gowns. Your dress has been on our project desk for months, back when you were still the Consort. Many sketches have been made and rejected. Countless hours of thought and consideration went into planning. Four appointments have been made, the last only three weeks ago, appointments you have failed to keep, no doubt because of your busy schedule. So when a strange man calls the Keep, and asks if we have your measurements and notes on your dress, and inquires if we would be willing to part with whatever we had already made so he could have his
tailor
”—she said the word so sharply, I checked myself to see if I'd been cut—“finish it in time for the wedding, we all knew that there must've been some horrible misunderstanding.”

I would strangle Roman. There was no way around it.

“Well, ex-Consort, if you can't come to our studio, we have brought the studio to you.”

“I'm sorry. I really am but I don't have time to—”

Fiona narrowed her eyes. “Jun?”

A young Japanese man stopped by her. “Sister?”

“Bring the ex-Consort to me.”

“Curran!” I backed away from the railing. “Curran, help!”

Laughter exploded in the bedroom. Bastard.

•   •   •

I
STOOD IN
the middle of the floor, trying not to move while three of Fiona's people, two young women and a man in his midtwenties who looked a lot like her and Jun, sewed me into a practice gown. Jun, Fiona's brother and enforcer, positioned himself in front of me. The real wedding dress would
apparently come later and, according to them, I'd have to do at least two more fittings. I could barely contain my joy.

“Please stop grinding your teeth,” Fiona said. “It's very distracting.”

“This one or this one?” Jun held up two squares of lace.

They tried to make me pick one out of twenty different samples. I told them I didn't care, so they resorted to the process of elimination.

“Left.” The one on the right clearly had been stolen from some grandma's coffee table. “Teddy Jo will be here any minute.”

“When he's here, you can go,” Fiona told me.

A needle poked my thigh.

“Sorry, ex-Consort,” one of the seamstresses said.

I looked at Julie snickering in the corner. “Where is Curran?”

“Curran can't be here,” Fiona said. “It's bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the wedding.”

“Who made that rule?”

“It's tradition,” Fiona said.

“I don't care about tradition.”

“Tradition is everything,” Fiona said.

“Julie, where is he?”

“He went out to check on the horses.”

“Really? He hates horses.”

Julie's eyes sparkled. “He said it was very important for him to check that they were still there. And that he was also there and not here when you snapped.”

When I got out of this dress, I'd give him a piece of my mind.

“She keeps flexing.” The seamstress on the left said.

“How much difference is it making?” Fiona said.

“About an inch overall. She's very muscular,” the man said.

“Stop talking about me like I'm not even here.”

The seamstress on the left pulled on the fabric. “If you want me to take up this slack and she flexes during the wedding, we'll have a problem.”

“She's a human,” Fiona said. “I don't care how muscular she is, she isn't going to rip it like the Incredible Hulk.”

“She won't rip it, but it will skew this seam right here.”

Fiona frowned and tapped her pencil on her lips. “Let it go?”

The seamstress let go of the fabric and all five stared at my waist.
Keep looking, it will do a trick.

Someone knocked. I turned.

“Do not move!” Fiona snapped.

Jun opened the door and Barabas stepped inside. He took in the scene and gave me a brilliant smile.

“Ah!” Fiona said. “Perfect. Unbiased opinion.” She marched over to me and pulled the fabric tight. “No slack?” She let go. “Or slack?”

“No slack,” Barabas said. “It gives her an almost hourglass figure. Kate, which way do you like it?”

“I don't care.”

“The ex-Consort has been most uncooperative,” Jun said.

“I can't imagine why.” Barabas grinned wider. “She's usually the embodiment of patience and cooperation.”

Christopher stumbled into the house, walking backward, his eyes wide.

Something was wrong. “Christopher?”

He turned to me, his face shocked, the corners of his mouth slack with terror. “Thanatos.”

“What?” Barabas asked.

“Thanatos is coming.” Christopher's voice shook. “The reaper of souls is coming to take one of you to the afterlife.”

Oh boy. “No, that's Teddy Jo. He's a friend.”

“Chris.” Barabas moved in front of the door. “Remember how we spoke about visual cues? Look at my face. I'm not upset. Look at Kate. She isn't upset.”

“It's okay, Christopher,” I said. “Teddy Jo and I have a business appointment this morning. He's actually a nice guy. He's coming to pick me up.”

Panic slapped his face. “No! Don't you get it? He is coming for someone's soul!”

And now the book burning made total sense. He clearly had a Greek underworld fixation.

“Deep breath,” Barabas said. “Calm . . .”

“He'll take no one.” Christopher's voice dropped deeper. “I won't allow it.”

“Calm . . .” Barabas repeated.

Christopher jerked his hands up and shoved Barabas aside. The weremongoose flew across the floor and smashed into the wall to the left of me.

Oh shit.

Christopher's body expanded, ripping through his clothes. He opened his mouth and his canines grew, curving down like vampire fangs. Red smoke spiraled out of his back. “Stay inside!”

He ran out the door.

“What the fuck?” Barabas charged after him. I grabbed the hem of my gown and ran after them.

I burst onto the lawn. Barabas spun around, searching the street.

No Christopher.

Nobody outside except Teddy Jo flying in from the west on his dark wings.

“Stop!” I yelled, waving my arms. “Stop!”

Teddy Jo waved back at me.

The gown tangled around my legs and I nearly tripped. I grabbed the hem and ripped the skirt all the way to my waist.

“What the hell was that?” Barabas snarled.

“I don't know.”

“Where is he?” Barabas spun around.

“I don't know.”

Julie dashed onto the lawn.

A piercing scream rolled through the air. Fear grabbed me into a tight fist, an instinctual deep terror rising from somewhere within, from the place where the primal fears of fire, darkness, and predators lived. Barabas let out an odd high-pitched chatter that no human mouth should have been able to make.

A winged shape swooped down from above, propelled into an eagle dive by enormous blood-red wings. Somehow Teddy Jo saw it and careened to the left, banking hard. The creature that used to be Christopher spread its wings, trying to slow, and landed on the lawn. He was muscled like an antique statue. He opened his mouth, his fangs glistening. Madness churned in his ruby irises.

“What the hell!” Teddy Jo screamed.

I rushed at Christopher. Barabas beat me by half a second, but before he reached him, Christopher beat his wings and shot into the sky. The weremongoose's arms closed over empty air.

Christopher flew up and smashed into Teddy Jo. The angel of death threw his arms up trying to deflect the blow, but the impact of Christopher's body knocked him sideways. If he used his flaming sword, Christopher was a goner.

The two winged shapes spun in the air, ripping at each other, black wings and blood-red wings slapping against each other again and again.

Another scream. Terror gripped me, crushing my ability to think. It couldn't be . . . Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

Teddy Jo fell from the sky.

I jumped one way, Barabas jumped the other, and Teddy Jo crashed between us like a rock. He rolled to his feet, huge wings sweeping the ground. Blood spattered his face and chest. Above us Christopher flew up, getting ready for another dive.

“That's an avatar!” Teddy Jo snarled at me. “Damn it, Kate!”

“I didn't know! Where is your sword?”

“I don't have it! I can't fight him without the sword.”