CURRAN POINTS OF VIEW

We’ve received numerous requests from our readers asking us what this or that character thought about certain scenes from the books. However, nobody has garnered as many requests as Curran. Finally, in the summer of 2009, Gordon decided to write a scene from the Beast Lord’s point of view, and since then Curran POVs, as these scenes came to be called, have become a favorite with the fans. Some people even resort to bribing Gordon.

You can read many of these at www.ilona-andrews.com, our blog, but this is the first time they officially appear in print, and we’re very grateful to Ace for giving us an opportunity to bring them to you.

UNICORN LANE

I was in Unicorn Lane at night. A bad time to be in a bad place. Anything can happen there, but it’s never something good.

No one was in charge of Unicorn Lane. None of Atlanta’s many supernatural factions could claim dominion over it. It was populated by those once human and those who had never been, and they hid in the dark ruins, feeding on each other and making visitors unwelcome. Thus Unicorn Lane was recognized by all as neutral territory, a no-man’s-land you entered at your own risk. The scared hovered at the edge, the stupid died not far from it. I was here to meet someone, and if she made it far enough to find me, I would know she was neither.

I leaned back, feeling the cold stone of the abandoned building with my back. Moonlight seeped through the holes in the roof, illuminating a gap in the wall. She would come through there. The night shadows hid me, so I’d have plenty of time to look her over.

The Unicorn lay quiet. The night is never truly silent, but right now the monsters minded their manners. None of them knew why I was here, but all of them recognized they didn’t want to be the reason for my visit.

What I did know of the merc came from Jim, my chief of security. He’d worked with her in the Mercenary Guild. That gave me pause. Jim was a cat and preferred the solitary hunt. It was rare for him to let anyone outside the Pack watch his back. He said she was fast, for a human, and good with a blade. He also said she had a big mouth and fought when she should run. None of this endeared her to me. Mercs were bottom-feeders. No honor, no integrity, no loyalty. They didn’t stand for anything. I wasn’t in the habit of personally meeting lowlife thugs who wanted to be tough guys. I had people for that.

However, I was willing to take a chance this time since Jim had vouched for her. Jim had seen her come out of situations that should have ended her, and he didn’t believe all of her cards were on the table. She was likely hiding strong magic, which meant she came with baggage. That was fine if it made her useful. Something was hunting my people, the Free People of Atlanta. We were shapeshfiters and we had the best trackers in the city, but we had yet to catch it.

Normally, we solved our own problems. We kept it in the family. Humans saw us as freaks, and I saw no need to give them more ammunition. But the murders had been too numerous, and some of the vampires had been destroyed as well. No big loss. The Order of Knights of Merciful Aid got involved. The only human I trusted in that organization of fanatics, a knight-diviner of the Order, had been investigating the case and was killed for it, presumably by the same creature. I have little love and less use for humans, but Greg Feldman had died helping us, and that counted for something. Incredibly, this merc was his estranged ward and had inherited the case along with a temporary position with the Order.

I would find this thing that murdered my people. I would stand over it and taste its blood as the light faded from its eyes. Nothing would change that. But with the Order’s help, I would find it faster. If Greg’s ward was looking for revenge, all the better. It would mean she was willing to take risks that could help me get my teeth on this creature’s throat.

The night wind brought a mixture of scents to my tongue. Leather—old boots. A touch of sweat, clean and unmistakably feminine. A mix of rosemary, chamomile, lavender—shampoo, an herbal fragrance foreign to this dank and moldy place, nice. A very faint trace of cloves and steel—oil for the sword. She was near and moving closer.

She was quiet, nearly soundless for a human. Interesting. What was she?

Finally, the faint sound of a step. Come closer, little mouse, you’re almost there.

The night shadows swallowed me. She would come in right across from me—it was the only way—and I would see her before she saw me, should I choose to let myself be seen. Perhaps if she looked as good as she smelled, I would give her that privilege.

A slight scratch of a foot sliding on stone. I leaned forward to get a better look.

Moonlight from gaps in the ceiling illuminated the scene as she put first a foot through the gap. She came in sideways, slowly and carefully, carrying a sword. An odd-looking blade, pale. She held it like she knew what she was doing, but her faith in its ability to protect her was misplaced. The tips of my claws itched the inside of my skin, wanting to come out. She had one sword, but I had ten claws.

She scanned the area, stopped to listen, then moved forward stealthily, like a dancer, hiding in the nearest shadow before I caught a glimpse of her face. The draft brought another whiff of her scent. She paused, and I knew she was peering into the gloom, trying to find me. I liked the way she moved, balanced and light, neither tiptoeing nor stiff. Nice body. Come to me, mouse, don’t be scared.

She took a step forward and I saw her in profile. Exotic, strong features, not pretty, but I liked what I saw.

I drew my fingers through the dirt, scraping the floor a little.

She pivoted on one foot, turning her sword. Fast. Her head snapped toward me. Dark eyes stared straight at me. I detected no fear. Instead it was a look of challenge. So not a mouse after all but something more. This could be interesting. I’d let her dance in the dirt a bit more. She was fun to watch.

She crouched with her hand out. What the hell was she doing . . . ?

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Oh my God, she was retarded, and I was going to kill Jim.

She blinked and stared at me. She’d seen my eyes glow.

I let go, shifting in the dark into my true form. If you want a kitty, little girl, I’ll give you one you’ll never forget.

I stepped into the moonlight. She froze.

That’s right. No sudden moves. I padded toward her slowly and circled her, allowing her take it all in. Do you like the kitty now? I could smell her surprise and fear. Our gazes met. Her eyes went wide and she fell on her ass.

Heh. A bow would have been sufficient.

I retreated into the shadows of the corner. I was not sure what effect a laughing lion would have on her, and I did not want her to faint. I reverted to human form and changed into sweats and a tee. Any other time, I might have walked out to her as is, but this was a business meeting. Best to keep it that way.

I gave her a few seconds to recover. She was dusting off her jeans.

“Kitty, kitty?”

She jumped a bit. Smart girl. Most shapeshifters can’t switch back and forth like that. I’m not most shapeshifters. I am the Beast Lord.

“Yeah,” she managed weakly. “You caught me unprepared. Next time I’ll bring cream and catnip toys.”

Toys wouldn’t be necessary. “There may not be a next time.”

I stepped out, and she turned toward me. She seemed almost relieved that I wasn’t naked. Most women had the opposite reaction. Her loss.

I hit her with my hard stare. She met my gaze and did not look away or cringe. Points for her. She was tall for a woman, maybe two or three inches shorter than I. Young, maybe early or mid-twenties. She looked strong and lithe, like an athlete or martial artist.

“What kind of woman greets the Beast Lord with ‘here, kitty kitty’?”

“One of a kind.”

She continued to hold my stare. She might not have been as funny as she thought she was, but she wasn’t a coward. Good. I could work with brave.

I took a step toward her. “I am the Lord of the Free People.”

FERNANDO’S

I sat at a table at Fernando’s. It wasn’t my favorite place—too posh, too public—but Myong liked it. The service was good, the food was okay, but people didn’t really come to Fernando’s to eat. They came to be seen. Most of them were self-important people indulging themselves. It wasn’t my crowd, and I didn’t care to be seen by them.

Myong glanced up from her menu. She, on other hand, fit into Fernando’s quite well. She was beautiful, and she had that cultured elegance that went along with wealth and privilege. Any of the men here would’ve loved to have her on their arm. It was almost as if she were one of the rewards of power—a gorgeous woman suitable for a successful man, and she did nothing to break that impression. And now I was that guy with her. I was in a restaurant I didn’t like, among people I couldn’t stand, and I was bored.

I surveyed the patrons—men and women, sitting around identical tables, murmuring in quiet voices, drinking their wine. A woman walked between the tables, led by a waiter. She wore a champagne-colored gown, and something about the way she moved, perfectly balanced, caught my eye. Most people would be focusing on the waitress, but she seemed aware of her surroundings, not anxious but ready, cataloging the possible dangers and summing people up.

The waiter turned. The woman turned after her, and I saw her face.

Kate.

Kate Daniels. Here, in Fernando’s. I put down my menu.

Where in that really revealing dress was she hiding her sword? Did she have it strapped to her thigh?

Kate kept gliding in her heels. She looked stunning. Her hair was down, framing her face and falling past her shoulders and down her back. The dress fit her well, almost as if it had been tailor-made to flatter her lean, strong frame, displaying all of the things jeans and those ugly sweatshirts usually concealed. She looked, well, feminine. Long legs. Supple. Bare shoulders. The dress softened her, but she had definition on her arms. Don’t see that often in a human woman.

In the short time I had known her, she had struck me as many things, brave, competent, smart-ass, but tonight she looked beautiful. It made me regret that she had declined my earlier offer of joining me in the tank.

The waiter led her to the table, where a man sat alone. She was on a date. And the poor fool wasn’t even armed. He didn’t stand a chance.

Kate circled the table, giving me a lovely view of her backside. Mm. She stood by a chair that would let her see the door. Ha. I wondered for a moment if she would flip it over and sit cowboy style, with the back of the chair protecting her stomach.

“Is something funny?” Myong asked.

“No.”

Her date, a handsome man in an expensive dark suit, stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. You and me both, brother.

The waiter held the chair for her. Her date didn’t even rise. Come on, fancy lad, stand up, say something charming, hold her chair for her. Did they not teach etiquette at Little Lords Academy?

Kate sat. The fancy lad kept staring.

Gods, man, act like you’ve been out with a lady before.

He finally recovered and said something. She said something back. He smiled. They managed to engage in some small talk.

I glanced across the table at my own date. Myong looked lovely as always, in her perfect little black dress. She caught me looking, and as usual, she looked down demurely. Yes, yes, I get it, you’re not offering me a challenge. I didn’t need a show of submission every time I looked at her. This beauty and the beast routine was getting stale.

Where Kate radiated strength and a capacity for violence, Myong’s beauty was far more fragile, like an exquisite crystal bird. The contrast was striking. I glanced at Kate again. If I walked over to their table and started trouble, Myong would, despite being a shapeshifter, seek safety rather than risk injury, possibly under the table, clutching a fork as a weapon. She once confided that she found violence—how had she put it—“distasteful.” I was very frequently distasteful.

Still, she was intelligent and cultured, and I wanted her take on them.

“Glance causally at the couple two tables down and give me your impression of them both, please.”

Myong looked surprised but did as asked. She studied them carefully, and after a moment, she spoke softly. “His haircut is in fashion and expensive. The suit is custom-made, and the tailoring is impeccable. His shoes are Italian leather. His hands are elegant and well taken care of. I don’t think he’s a fighter. He has no calluses or scars, and his nails are manicured. He seems at ease here, an important man. The waiter seems to know him, so he must be a regular. She is not. The dress is suitable but seldom worn. The heels are the appropriate height and coordinate well with the dress, but she doesn’t like wearing them. If she has to run or fight, she will take them off.” Myong paused and allowed herself a small, slightly superior smile. “If something untoward occurs, she might use them as weapons.”

A waiter came by our table to refill Myong’s water. He took care to stand as far away from me as possible and look down. Once again, somebody recognized me, and the appropriate instructions had been issued to the staff. Don’t provoke the psychopath in charge of the shapeshifters, or he might slaughter us all. The violent animal can’t control himself. Ugh.

“Who’s that man over two tables down?” I asked.

“Dr. Maximillian Crest,” the waiter said.

“Medical doctor?”

“I believe he’s a plastic surgeon.”

The waiter fled, no doubt grateful to escape unharmed.

Crest, that was his name, was meanwhile droning on, while Kate seemed to be only half listening. I could not hear him clearly, but I could guess at the gist of it.

“Blah blah blah, I am handsome, I make a lot of money, this suit is expensive, and my shoes are made of the finest Corinthian leather hand-stitched by virgins under the moonlight. Of course, I could have gone into pediatrics, but for one of my amazing skill, really, plastic surgery was the only option. Beauty is so important, don’t you think? Oh, Kate, you are nearly as attractive as I. Why then should we not be beautiful together?”

The way he looked at her bugged me. As if he studied her face searching for tiny flaws that he could correct. Kate could do better.

I pressed Myong further. “What is your impression of them as a couple?”

Without a moment of hesitation, she said, “He could do better.”

“Really?” I allowed a slight edge to creep into my voice.

She seemed to shrink into herself, and I could tell she regretted the remark. “My lord,” she began.

Every time I gave my chain a little slack, she cringed. This just was not working out.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It was not Myong’s fault that she found him appealing. He was handsome, and he was probably a decent human being. I had no reason to dislike him this much except that he was at the table. I offered her a dip in my tank. And she declined, so she could go and dress up like that for him.

Crest was wearing a custom-made suit and expensive shoes, while I, one the other hand, was dressed in faded jeans and a comfortable tee. The interesting thing was that Kate looked as uncomfortable as I did, despite her fancy dress and shoes. Hmm. I wondered what would happen if I walked over there and asked her to blow this joint and grab a burger with me. She’d probably laugh. But then again, she seemed to like the spotlight. Maybe she was enjoying being the center of attention at Fernando’s. There were enough men looking at her. Her clothes were crap, and from what Jim said, money was tight for her. This must’ve been her rare opportunity to shine, and she pounced on it.

Crest finally caught me staring and said something to her. Kate turned. Her eyes widened. Surprised to see me?

Her gaze lingered over Myong and slid back to me. I grinned. Yeah, my date is almost as pretty as yours, baby.

Kate motioned to the waiter, while pretty boy looked at me. He was actually trying to stare me down. I hid a smile. Dear Doctor, you don’t want any of this. Trust me.

He kept looking. I returned the stare. I was kind of curious if he would have the nerve to come over and do something about it. Then again, who knows, maybe he just was wondering if he could fix my nose. Believe me, Doc, you don’t wanna see my other face. I thought about giving him just a quick peek. Just a hint of a fang.

A waiter approached our table, carrying a silver tray with a bowl on it. Now what?

The waiter deposited the bowl in front of me. Milk. Ha!

“Compliments of the lady at that table, sir.”

Oh this was too good. I locked eyes with Kate and picked up the bowl. She was looking. I raised the dish and drained it. Salute! Your move, baby.

She smiled.

Crest was glaring now. He tossed his napkin on the table. Oh-oh. I wondered if I was supposed to faint or flee.

He shifted his gaze and let it linger over Myong. It was meant to provoke me, but instead he just looked at her, caught off guard, as if he just realized for the first time that she was there and she was gorgeous. He was wondering what she would look like out of her tight black dress. Your guess is as good as mine, pal. Every time I tried to touch her, she made this face, as if she was going to bravely endure. She didn’t have to worry. I would never put my “big rough hands” all over her unless I thought she wanted it. She would consent, but she didn’t want me, and that killed it for me.

I realized that another male was openly staring at my date, and I didn’t really give a damn. What did that say about me and Myong, exactly? Nothing that would ever go anywhere.

Kate had that look in her eyes that said she was contemplating punching me in the face. Settle down, buttercup. I’m not going to embarrass Dr. Dreamboat in front of you and ruin your chances of entering the upper echelons of society.

I gave Crest a little wink, just to screw with him.

He startled. He said something to Kate. She glanced at me, almost with regret, or maybe I was reading too much into it. They rose. He didn’t hold the chair for her again. Seriously?

They walked out. And just when we were starting to get along.

Where the hell were they going? He was probably going to try to impress her with the opera or something. I looked back at Myong. She smiled. Very dutiful.

Kate was leaving with Crest. Possibly she’d spend the night with him. And I was going home alone. I’d drop Myong off and try to salvage what was left of my evening.