The morning brought a fresh magic wave, and a strong one too. The lotuses in the basin bloomed in seconds, and now their petals glowed gently above the water.
I brewed a fresh pot of tea and built a fire in the cauldron. The flames licked the dry wood, it caught, and I tossed a handful of herbs into the fire. They ignited in a flash, turning the flames blood-red. Magic splayed from the cauldron. I grasped it and reached through it to my grandmother.
Her voice came through first.
“Seven days! How very modern of you.”
The flames snapped into the image of my grandmother. Tall and broad-shouldered, in real life she towered over me. Like Kate, she was stunning. Powerful face, beautiful features, bronze skin, and a wealth of black hair streaming down over her shoulders. I’d seen her in armor and in formal gowns, with gold jewelry tracing her brow and neck. Seeing her in a tank top and sweatpants never failed to crack me up.
“Ungrateful child. I see you smirking. Was my worrying funny to you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Ugh.” Erra shook her head. “Tell me everything that’s happened.”
By the time I brought her up to speed, I was on my second cup of tea.
“What a damn mess.”
Don’t I know it.
“What are you going to do about Feldman?”
“Depends on where his mind is when I meet him this morning. I must contain him at all costs, or he might mobilize the Chapter and start a manhunt to find Derek. Or worse, he might rope the Pack into it.”
“That man is good at keeping secrets. Use it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Erra frowned. “Tell me about this divine beast.”
“I have no idea what it is. I have never seen that magic signature before. I’ve never heard of anyone eating some creature’s heart to see the future. There are legends of people eating mystical birds’ hearts and gaining magic powers, but nothing that fits.”
My grandmother tapped her fingernails on something, thinking. “You said the historian had a chance to flee, but she didn’t take it.”
“Yes. It looked like she started to but stopped.”
“It must have spoken to her.”
“Why?”
Erra drained her cup. “An academic like her would be trained to keep an open mind. Something made her more curious than frightened, and as a teacher, she would place great value on communication. If the beast spoke, she would stop and listen to it. She would reason and ask questions.”
How did I not see it before? “That makes perfect sense.”
The list of creatures that could speak was short. The general rule was if the creature was depicted with a human head, it had the power of speech, provided it reached a high level of magic or the right age. Lamassu was one. The manticore was one, too, although the manticores I’d run across were beast-like and never spoke. Sphinxes. Nagas. Harpies.
“An idiot would have run away and kept running. Sometimes our intelligence is to our detriment.” Erra sighed. “There has been a development. If you hear about any incidents related to the Casino and necromancers, try to avoid that area.”
“Why?”
Erra hesitated.
“Grandmother?”
“Namtur is in Atlanta.”
I choked on my tea. “What is the High Sakkan doing here?”
“Damned if I know. He said he wanted a ‘respite.’ I gave him a month, and what does that ingrate do with his vacation? He goes to Atlanta and gets himself captured by the necromancers.”
Now her frantic attempts to reach me made sense. Namtur was a ticking time bomb. She didn’t even trust Hugh enough to tell him about it. Probably because he would’ve dropped everything and come to drag Namtur out of Atlanta before he caused a massive incident.
“He let the People capture him? How are they still alive?”
“They’re alive because he has some kind of scheme.”
“That’s what I am afraid of.” When Namtur schemed, streets ran red with blood. Literally. “I thought we agreed that I would handle Atlanta on my own.”
Erra raised her hands. “I didn’t send him there! I didn’t even know where he was until Ghastek called us two days ago.”
Ghastek, the head of the People, now EIN, in Atlanta, was trouble. He was calculating and ruthless. A navigator armed with a single vampire could wipe out a SWAT team in seconds. Ghastek could easily pilot two at a time and had enough navigators under his command to massacre everyone in the city in twenty-four hours. I couldn’t afford him as an enemy. Not right now.
“What did Ghastek want?”
“He wanted me to send someone to escort Namtur back. He’s worried about Namtur’s safety because he is elderly.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
“That was my reaction, too.”
“Could he know who Namtur is?”
Erra grimaced. “I doubt it. That old fox can look so decrepit, you’d think he couldn’t make it up a flight of stairs.”
“Ghastek is a lot of things, but he isn’t an idiot. If he has even an inkling of what Namtur is, he wouldn’t have detained him.”
“I honestly don’t think he knows.” Erra shook her head. “None of this is your problem. I just wanted to warn you, so if something happens, you don’t run headfirst into the Casino and get exposed.”
If Namtur started killing the EIN personnel, Kate would get involved. Kate and Ghastek had a complicated relationship. When Grandfather attacked the city to subdue Kate, Ghastek had thrown his lot in with Kate. For a short time, he became her Legatus, the head of the navigators under her banner. When Kate gave up her claim to the city, he had argued against it. I remembered hearing that conversation. He’d actually raised his voice. For some reason, he desperately needed her to remain in power, but she had no interest in ruling anyone or anything. They had had a falling out over it, but Kate considered him a friend. If Namtur caused trouble, she would come to Ghastek’s defense.
That was the last thing I needed. “I’ll go and get him.”
“He can handle himself. He made that mess. He can get himself out of it.”
“Grandmother, he is your blood brother. He can’t be allowed to run around unsupervised in the city with the ma’avirim sniffing all over the place, Ghastek plotting gods know what and me trying to hide. I’ll go and get him right now. He likes me. He will come with me.”
“If you pick him up, you won’t be able to get rid of him.”
“I’ll find him something to do. I love you. I have to go now.”
“I love you, too. Be careful.”
“Always.”
Of all the places in Atlanta, the EIN Casino was my least favorite. Cavernous and devoid of windows, the main floor resembled a luxurious cave decorated in rich purple and gold hues and filled with rows and rows of slot machines. Entering through the main gate put you straight in the middle of it. The slot machines, rigged to work during magic or tech, flashed with bright lights and played jarring music, keeping the patrons awake. The people in front of them stared at the screens with vacant eyes, while waiters glided between them, offering alcohol and caffeinated drinks. There was something infantile about the bright lights, oversaturated colors, and treats delivered on demand, and the chaos of it unraveled you, until you lost yourself to ringing tunes and spinning screens and became one of the anonymous gamblers.
I turned left, where two journeywomen in identical purple blouses and black pencil skirts waited behind a marble counter. The path from sensing an undead to becoming a full-fledged navigator and earning the coveted Master of the Dead title was long and took years. Those who embarked on it became journeymen. Most of them never made it.
I flashed my Order ID. “Please let Mr. Stefanoff know that I’m here to pick up Mr. Sakkan.”
When talking to non-Shinar people, Namtur used his title as his last name.
“Please wait,” the shorter journeywoman told me.
I parked myself in the lounge area, a soft shadowy spot, tucked away into an alcove and furnished with overstuffed purple couches. Below the floor, underneath the slot machines, the gamblers, and the gaudy carpet, vampire minds glowed like angry smears of foul magic.
Ugh.
They glowed in my mind, evenly spaced, each undead confined to its own stall in the stables under the building, twenty per column. One, two, three…ten… At least six hundred. Probably more, the dots were beginning to blend in the distance. Kate would’ve known precisely how many. She could also pilot them all at once. I used vampire blood, molded it, and worked with it, but piloting was forever beyond me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would not share my mind with one of those things.
A male journeyman in his late teens stopped by me. “The Director will see you now.”
I followed him deeper into the bowels of the Casino.
Director. That was something new. I supposed it went well with their new name, the Eastern Institute of Necromancy. Why Eastern? Was there a Western Institute?
In the next few hours, I needed to get Namtur, somehow convince Nick to stand down, do something with Namtur to keep him occupied and out of trouble, and then go see Mark Rudolph. There were too many fires to put out, and if I didn’t do it fast enough, Moloch’s priests would set the kind of fire I couldn’t deal with.
We reached the back wall and walked through a hallway past a velvet rope, into a wide room ending in a spectacular staircase. Ghastek came down the steps, a tall, gaunt figure in a black suit and charcoal dress shirt. He’d been balding as long as I could remember, but the receding hairline only accentuated his high forehead. His features were narrow, and he looked at the world with piercing dark eyes.
Usually Ghastek wore a turtleneck or a Henley, sometimes a sweater. His clothes were simple, but expensive. He dressed like a busy CEO who had too much on his plate to worry about dressing up. Why the suit? It couldn’t be for me. I was an anonymous Order knight.
His gaze fastened on me. “Ms. Ryder, I presume.”
“Knight Ryder.”
He smiled.
“Did I say something funny?”
“Not at all. You’re too young to get the reference and it would take too long to explain. What’s your relationship to Namtur?”
Direct and to the point. No pleasantries. My disguise was holding. “I don’t have one. I was told to escort him to the chapter.”
Ghastek studied me. I had made a reasonable effort to look as normal as possible and hid most of myself with my ragged cloak. People in cloaks were a common sight in the city, and he could see my face well enough.
“You’re not one of Feldman’s regulars.”
“I’ve been recently assigned to the chapter. If you contact the Order, they will confirm my credentials.”
Ghastek looked at me for another long moment and said under his breath, “Bring him.”
Somewhere in the depths of the Casino a vampire had just spoken in Ghastek’s voice.
We waited. Ghastek stared at me. Most people would at least try to pretend to look elsewhere out of politeness. Ghastek openly scrutinized me.
Two journeymen appeared at the top of the stairs. A short elderly man walked between them. He wore a dark brown tunic that was two sizes too big and hung around him like a sheet on a clothesline. Age had stolen his hair and cut wrinkles into his walnut-brown skin, but his eyes, the color of clover honey, were alert and bright.
He saw me. His eyes sparkled, and he straightened up and picked up speed, sandals flashing under the hem of the tunic. The journeymen struggled to keep up. Ghastek turned to look at him, taking his eyes off me for a second, and I put two fingers on my lips and touched the outer corner of my right eye in a single quick motion. You do not know me.
A small smile flickered on Namtur’s lips and vanished. He was the one who’d taught me the language of thieves.
Ghastek turned back to me. I presented him with a blank, almost bored expression. Just a knight preparing to escort a senior citizen. Nothing to see here.
Namtur stopped about two feet away and gave Ghastek a withering look. “What is it now? Are you offering me this pretty child? What is an old man like me supposed to do with her?”
Ghastek looked offended. “A knight has come to escort you to the Order. I didn’t realize Eahrratim and the Order had such close ties.”
Using my grandmother’s full name wouldn’t score him any brownie points.
Namtur stuck his chin in the air. “The things you don’t know or realize are an ocean, and your mind is a tiny boat upon its waves.”
Ancient disses were the best.
“Delightful,” Ghastek said dryly.
I needed to move this along. “Do I need to sign anything?”
A group of people came around the corner, from my left, led by a woman in a light green dress that did wonders for her already spectacular figure. Her long red hair dripped on her shoulders. Rowena, one of the Masters of the Dead, the second most powerful necromancer in Atlanta. She had to be in her fifties, and she was still gorgeous. I always suspected that she and Ghastek were an item, but nobody could ever prove it.
The three men behind her wore identical outfits: dark pants, dark tunics, and heavy ceremonial cloaks, artfully draped over their shoulders. The leading man, older, with white hair and bronze skin, wore a cloak the color of jade, and the two younger men trailing him had cloaks the color of turquoise. People of the Sun.
There goes the neighborhood…
Among the Aztec cults, the People of the Sun were the strongest. Even before the Shift, twelve million Mexicans spoke the Aztec language. After magic had flooded the world, the Aztec mythology and religion came back full force. Some of it was good and some of it was horrifying.
The People of the Sun worshiped Huitzilopochtli, the god of war, sun, and sacrifice, and they controlled random spots all over the Southwest. Anyone could join. They didn’t discriminate by national origin, gender, sexual orientation, or magical abilities, as long as you prayed to their god and no other.
So far, the People of the Sun stayed away from mass human sacrifice, probably because they were powerful enough without it. We had run up against them during our time in LA, and they had been one of the factors that prompted our move to San Diego.
Rowena’s group headed straight for us.
This was planned. Ghastek meant for us to see each other. It couldn’t be for me, so it had to be for Namtur.
Rowena moved slightly to the side, and I saw the older man’s face. Tizoc. One of the tecuhtli, the lords, old, powerful, dangerous as hell. His real name was Luke O’Sullivan. Most of his family still lived in Boston, and he occasionally made trips up there for Thanksgiving. The two guys behind him were likely Jaguar warriors, elite fighters who served as tecuhtli personal bodyguards.
I turned away, so my hood blocked my face. Tizoc and Namtur had tried to negotiate before, and it was hate at first sight. Could this get any worse?
The two old men saw each other. For an instant, nobody moved.
Tizoc recovered first. “Namtur, you geriatric desert snake. I thought I smelled something foul, and there you are.”
Namtur ignored him. “We shall leave now.”
All around us, the smears of undead magic moved closer. There were six vampires right above, ready to fall through the ceiling, and more were coming. Ghastek expected a confrontation. He’d arranged it and now he was preparing to contain it.
“Running?” Tizoc mocked.
Namtur made no indication that he’d heard him. The ultimate insult—he’d decided that Tizoc was so insignificant, he was beneath notice.
“Knight woman, I do not have time to stand around.”
“Looks like we’ll be going now,” I said to Ghastek.
Tizoc flicked his fingers and the two guards moved to block the exit.
“Who is the errand girl? The best your bitch queen could send for you, a child in rags?” Tizoc reached for me.
Namtur moved so fast, he blurred. His hand knocked Tizoc’s fingers away. “You dare?”
Turquoise mist boiled out of Tizoc, like two glowing wings. His eyes shone with green.
I had to stop this, or people would die.
I put my hand on Namtur’s shoulder and moved so Tizoc could see my face. He jerked as if shocked with a live wire. Behind him, his bodyguards unsheathed their swords in unison.
“We should go, Great Uncle,” I said softly in the old language. “We aren’t among friends.”
Namtur patted my hand solemnly and turned toward the exit. The guards stepped aside, giving us a lot of room. We walked between them and kept going, through the Casino, out the doors, across the plaza. Two vampires covered in lime green sunblock discreetly followed us. I turned and looked at them to make sure the navigator knew they had been seen.
“Great Uncle,” I murmured. “How could you ruin it? You were supposed to not know me.”
He harrumphed. “Filthy dog. His hands are unworthy. If he’d sullied you with his bloodstained fingers, I’d have cut them off.”
Bloodstained? Pot, kettle. “Thank you for caring, Great Uncle. What were you doing in the Casino?”
“I’ve heard that the thin man is looking to make an alliance. I wanted to know to whom he was offering his pitiful wares.”
He’d made Ghastek sound like some peddler on the street.
“And now we know,” Namtur said.
“Did he mention why he wanted an alliance?”
“No, but he asked many questions about the Kingdom.”
Interesting.
We reached the side lot where I’d left Tulip and Lady, the horse I’d rented this morning. The vampires halted at the curb.
Namtur spun around and waved at them. “Shoo! Go home, you unnatural creatures!”
The vampires remained where they were. “We will escort you to the chapter.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I told them. “Mr. Sakkan is in the Order’s custody. I will consider any further interference from the Institute as a sign of aggression. This is your official warning.”
The vampires froze as the two navigators piloting them waited for orders. A moment passed. The undead turned and loped back toward the Casino in their odd, disjointed gait.
Namtur jumped and landed in Lady’s saddle. The hired horse startled. “Are we going home now?”
“No, Great Uncle. We’re going to the Order of Merciful Aid.”
Namtur nodded. “I see. And why would we do that?”
“Two reasons. First, your former host will have us followed. I’m posing as a knight, so I’ll need to take you where the knights are.”
“And the second?”
“I have to convince a paranoid man prone to spree-killing and snap judgements that someone isn’t a threat.”
“He’s right to be paranoid. This is a city of fools, incompetents, and madmen. I haven’t felt this young in centuries.”
“And if things don’t go well, you’ll probably get to kill a great many of them.”
“You and your enticing promises. It’s been eight months since I wet my blades. I will kill something before my respite ends.”
Not if I could help it.
Stella pondered Namtur’s face. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
“‘Great Uncle’ is an honorary title.” Explaining that he was my near-immortal grandmother’s sworn blood brother would only complicate things.
Namtur gave Stella his best smile. His eyes crinkled into tiny slits and he looked as sweet as could be. “I won’t be any trouble.”
Stella got up. “Please sit down. Would you like some tea?”
Namtur smiled even wider and took his time to waddle to the seat and gingerly lower himself into it. “Oh no, no. You’re very busy, and I don’t want to be a bother.”
I really wanted to clap in appreciation of his fine performance, but that would ruin things.
“It’s no trouble; I was going to make a cup for myself anyway.”
She reached into her desk and took out a small flag made out of a rag tied to a chopstick and a tiny pitcher. She thrust the flag at me.
I took it. “What’s this?”
“That’s your war banner. He has been in his office with his butt glued to his chair since this morning. He canceled all his meetings. Nobody can go in. He’s waiting for you. Wave your banner.”
I waved the banner. “Why?”
Stella picked up the small pitcher. “I’m going to sprinkle milk on it like the Mongols did before battle. That’s all I can do to help.”
“That’s so nice,” Namtur said. “You’re such a thoughtful friend.”
I held the war banner out, and Stella sprinkled some milk on it. Then I turned around and marched to Nick Feldman’s office.
I knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
I entered and shut the door behind me.
Nick Feldman looked like a human thundercloud.
I walked to his desk and sat in the chair.
He picked up a small glass tube from his desk. White powder floated inside it. Nick snapped it in half and tossed the powder on the floor. Orange lines ignited in the floorboards, forming a complex spell, and vanished. He’d sealed the room.
Seals like this came in several varieties. Some blocked sound, others blocked sight, a third type did both. This one was a trap. It had sealed us inside the room, blocking all sight, sound, and magic, and I would have to break it to get out.
Nick Feldman was going to kill me.
I didn’t want to hurt him. He was always kind to me. Once Nick started, he wouldn’t stop. I would have to cripple him.
He looked at Stella’s war banner. I put it on his desk and sat back.
“Ms. Ryder, do you know what happens when a foreign shapeshifter enters Pack territory?”
He wasn’t just calm. He’d turned into an icicle.
“They must present themselves to the Beast Lord in twenty-four hours.”
Nick fixed me with his stare. His eyes were filled with lead. “Do you know what happens if the visitor fails to observe the proprieties?”
“The Pack finds them and brings them in?”
“Yes. They are not always gentle about it.”
I waited. He was going somewhere with this.
“An average shapeshifter is at least three times stronger than the average human and twice as fast. Throw in the claws, the fangs, the accelerated healing, the hunting instinct, and what you have is an overpowered apex predator, armed with the intelligence of a human and the strength of a monster.”
None of this seemed to require a response on my part. If this was anyone else, I’d ask if I should be taking notes or if this was going to be on the final. But the main objective here was to keep him calm.
“Shapeshifters are insular, distrustful of outsiders, and deeply paranoid.”
Pot, kettle.
“Their humanity is often hanging by a thread,” Nick continued. “It takes very little prompting for that thread to snap. When they encounter a foreign shapeshifter in their territory and are met with resistance, they assume that that shapeshifter is up to no good. They will attempt to apprehend this invader. They may get excited and even kill them. When that happens, the pack this visitor belongs to retaliates. This is the point where rational thought and logic goes out the window and we have a shapeshifter war.”
He was working up to something. There was an explosion coming, I could feel it.
Nick crossed his arms. “What we have here, right now, is a foreign shapeshifter who happens to be the beta of the largest shapeshifter pack in North America. His mere presence in the Pack’s territory is an insult. If they find out he’s here and he escapes, the Pack loses face, and they will retaliate. If they apprehend him and he’s injured, Ice Fury will retaliate. Either way, this is a declaration of war. We are watching the beginning of a massacre. And that massacre won’t be fought in Alaska; it will be fought here, in this city.”
He pointed to the window.
“On those streets. Right out there.”
I sat very still. This conversation was like crossing an iced-over lake. One wrong step and I’d plunge into frigid water.
“Hundreds of shapeshifters will die. Thousands of innocent bystanders will be murdered. These are not some hypothetical statistics. This country has seen shapeshifter wars before. We know in gruesome detail what kind of casualties result from it. And those were small packs. Can you even imagine the scale of the slaughter when the two largest packs rip into each other?”
I opened my mouth to answer.
“I think you can,” he said.
The ice under my feet just cracked.
“I think you’re counting on it. To the people you serve, humans have no more value than mosquitoes.”
He picked up a folder from the corner of his desk and dropped it in front of me. It fell open. Pictures fanned out over the desk. A photograph of Erra on a horse, my uncle on her left and me on her right. Another image, me in a royal gown of Shinar, receiving a group of businesspeople, half of them glaring, the other half awkwardly trying to bow, on the sunlit terrace of Dosari, Erra’s California palace. The pale green gown hugged my body. My hair, caught by a golden circlet, cascaded down in a waterfall of golden waves. Gold bracelets, identifying me as the Heir, glinted on my wrists. A third image, a painting, so lifelike it was almost a photograph—me in blood armor and on a horse, splattered with gore and screaming.
Great. Fantastic. He’d given me the case way too easily. I knew he would dig into my background, but I’d hoped all the roadblocks I had set up in the last few months would delay him long enough for me to stop the ma’avirim.
Damn this fucking face.
“I have a theory.” Nick’s voice cut like a knife. “Would you like to hear it, Dananu?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No. There are four and a half thousand miles separating Atlanta’s Pack and Ice Fury. So, I asked myself, what would the beta of Ice Fury, the guy who runs things on a day-to-day basis, be doing in Atlanta? They call him the wolf who rules in all but name. The Silver Wolf, the guy who managed to wrangle over five thousand separatists and misfits, half of whom have gone wild, into an actual working society, everything they had rejected, and they love him for it. Why would he come here? Why now?”
Oh dear gods. Here we go.
“He has to realize raiding the Pack is a logistical nightmare. They can’t possibly sustain a prolonged conflict. The Pack has the Keep and it’s a fucking fortress. They would know Ice Fury was coming, because Argent would have to move thousands of shapeshifters all the way through Canada and the Midwest to here. He must want something. The Pack has exclusive rights to panacea, which helps prevent loupism. They have a vault full of magical artifacts. Maybe he wants one of those. Or he wants to crush the Pack and take over. Maybe his people are tired of the north and the cold.”
“Can I say something?”
“No. I’m not done.” Anger flashed in Nick’s eyes. “Argent isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise. He knows all of this, but he’s here stirring the pot. He must be sure that he can get what he wants to risk it. That means he has a powerful backer. You.”
And now we had paranoia on parade with floats and marching bands.
Nick leaned forward. His eyes locked on me.
“You’re going to back his play. It’s a good plan. He has brawn and you have magic. A one-two punch. There was a time when Atlanta would have come together to stop you, but now is not that time. You and Argent, you must’ve hoped that the Pack would notice him by now. You need an excuse to start this war. Except, for some bizarre reason, the Pack hasn’t reacted the way you anticipated, so you leaked his name to Stella. You know of my connection to the Pack. You counted on me sounding the alarm to save the woman I love and our children.”
Oh Uncle Stupidhead...
“Tell me, what do you get out of it? What does Erra want? Is this about Kate? Do you think if you wreck the Pack, Curran will step in, and you and Argent can kill him? And then Kate, alone and grieving, will pick up her orphan son and return to her aunt like a good little prodigal daughter? Did you honestly think you people could hide your involvement in this? Or did you simply not care? Is this revenge for Roland?”
I opened my mouth again.
“I won’t allow it. This scheme ends here, with me. There won’t be a war.”
“Argent doesn’t want a war.” Yes! Finally got a word in.
Nick focused on me. He looked slightly deranged, and his icy voice just made it worse. “Enlighten me. What does Argent want?”
“He wants to find out who killed Pastor Haywood.”
Nick laughed. “You’re here for the same thing. How convenient.”
Strange bulges slid under his skin, like golf balls rolling along the muscles. The secret weapon my grandfather had grafted onto him.
Nick’s eyes told me I was about to die. Except it wouldn’t go the way he thought it would.
I couldn’t kill Nick to save Kate. It went against everything I stood for. Everything she stood for. She wouldn’t want that. If she knew I killed him on her account…
I’m so sorry, Kate.
“It’s Derek.”
Nick blinked.
“Darren Argent is Derek Gaunt. He’s here because Pastor Haywood asked for his help, but he arrived too late. He won’t do anything to endanger the Pack Curran built. As to nobody knowing about him, Ascanio has been chasing him around the city for the past three days. He probably doesn’t know Derek is Argent, but he must have recognized the scent.”
The words lay between us like heavy bricks.
Nick stared at me, speechless.
“You don’t have to kill anybody. There won’t be a war. There is no takeover. Desandra is safe. The kids are safe. Everything is okay. I won’t let anyone hurt Kate.”
Silence stretched.
“Julie?”
“Yes?”
Nick Feldman opened his mouth. “What in the fucking hell have you done to yourself?”
“You drank their Kool-Aid. You let them change you and twist you, and why? What was wrong with you before?”
I sighed. Nick hadn’t taken the whole Princess of Shinar thing well.
“I told you, I didn’t have a choice. The Eye changed me. I hadn’t realized the changes had happened until I woke up with a new face. All I wanted was to be like Kate and like Erra. I wanted to belong and to be strong.”
“That entire family is poison.”
That again. “There is nothing poisonous about Kate. Kate spent most of her adult life protecting this city and the people in it. If there is any kind of trouble, she runs into it, no questions asked. She cares. She always does.”
“Caring isn’t enough.”
Aha. “You worked for Roland. You let him change you. Your tentacles aren’t clean. Who are you to pass judgement on her?”
His face turned white. “I was undercover.”
“And she is Roland’s daughter. He loved her and he offered her everything, power, wealth, the family she desperately wanted, and she rejected all of it because it was the right thing to do. She’s the kind of person who lets the man she considers her brother call her an abomination to her face.”
“I have not done that in years.”
“You don’t get credit for not being an asshole, Uncle.”
“Fine,” Nick growled. “I don’t have that big of a problem with your face. You wanted to look like Kate, and I can understand that. I can even understand why you put the eye in. What I don’t understand is why you allowed Erra to indoctrinate you into being her puppet.”
“She didn’t indoctrinate me. I chose New Shinar on my own. I have my reasons.”
“The Old Shinar was a tyranny, and you’re trying to resurrect it.”
I leaned forward. I’d had this argument before. “You are judging an ancient civilization you know nothing about by applying the modern political structure to it. Shinar was never an absolute monarchy. The power of the royal bloodline was limited. It had three branches of government: executive, legislative, and judicial. That idea is much older than the United States. To come here, I had to convince the council of New Shinar that it was ultimately in their best interests for Kate to survive.”
They hadn’t needed much convincing. Kate was Erra’s beloved niece and a princess of Shinar, whether she saw herself as such or not. Also, everyone pretty much knew that if they tried to keep me from protecting the woman who raised me as her own daughter, I’d abdicate on the spot.
“I had to stand before twenty people and present the best- and worst-case scenarios. They deliberated and voted. They had the power to prevent me from going.”
Nick threw his hands in the air. “I don’t understand you. You grew up in a democracy.”
“No, I grew up in a federal republic. In a true democracy, the vote of majority is absolute and has the power to override the interests of minority. In a republic, the individual rights of a citizen are absolute, and the vote of majority cannot infringe upon them.”
He stared at me.
“In terms of individual rights, the Old Shinar wasn’t that different from the current system. It had its problems, but it guaranteed citizen freedoms. It offered a path of advancement based on merit. Anyone could run for office after the required period of military or civil service. The man in Stella’s office was born a commoner. He begged on the streets until he was ten years old. Before Shinar fell, he had become a High Sakkan, the highest level of minister one could attain.”
Nick held up his hand. “It’s still a monarchy.”
“So is the United Kingdom.”
“Look at this picture. You’re wearing gold. People are bowing to you. Does that make you happy? Is that how you see yourself?”
I sighed. “Before the magic Shift, major world powers had nuclear weapons. Everybody understood that as long as these bombs existed, another world war was out of the question or life on the planet would end. Thousands of years ago, before the technology Shift when magic reigned supreme, one didn’t become a king or a general, unless they possessed great magic power. As the Heir of Shinar, I’m my people’s sword and shield. If a threat arises, I will be the first and sometimes the only one to respond to it. I am their atomic bomb. It is my duty to put myself between the kingdom and its enemies. When I wear gold at a formal function, it’s because I’m signaling to others that Shinar is prosperous and strong enough to keep its wealth. When the council members wear identical green and white robes, it’s because their uniform signals that all of them are equal. Appearances matter.”
“Roland was a tyrant.”
“And the council of New Shinar passed an official resolution stripping him of his Shinar citizenship. If he ever gets out of his prison, the New Shinar will put him back in.”
Nick laughed.
“This federal republic that you so love is unraveling at the seams,” I told him. “It worked before the Shift. It doesn’t now. Yesterday in this republic, a man broke a child’s bones and dragged him on a chain in plain view through the streets and not one person did anything about it.”
Nick’s face darkened. “That’s a punch below the belt. Any of the knights from this chapter would have stepped in. Any PAD officer would have intervened.”
“But they didn’t. The law enforcement is too few and stretched too thin. Jasper wasn’t being covert about it. He felt sure that his act would go unpunished. The system failed. It failed two decades ago when I became a street kid. I know exactly how ugly those streets are. It wasn’t the republic that saved me. It was Kate.”
He grimaced. “Fair enough.”
“The old system will collapse eventually, and sooner rather than later. LA is practically a city-state. So is Atlanta. I don’t want to live in a time when the strongest rise to the top and carve the country into tiny fiefdoms. I want to build a new nation where people are safe.”
“By claiming land and imposing your rule on others.”
He was like a dog with a bone. “The territory of New Shinar currently includes San Diego. Do you know why?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“Because San Diego held a referendum within its borders and their citizens voted to join us. We don’t tell the city how to govern itself. We respect its lawfully elected municipal government.”
“No, you just expect them to bow and scrape.” He tapped the photograph with the businesspeople. “Just like this.”
“That’s La Mesa’s Chamber of Commerce. Nobody asked them to bow. They came to meet with us because they had a death cult stealing children for human sacrifices and they had already tried a couple of other powers in the area and they thought scraping was expected.” I dug through the file. “I remember when this happened. I bet there is another picture… Here it is.”
I pulled it out and put it in front of him. On it, I, still dressed in the same getup, was helping an older businesswoman up the steps while the other businesspeople hovered nearby, not sure what to do with themselves.
“The New Shinar isn’t a tyranny, Uncle. No matter how much you want it to be. But since we’re on the subject, were you elected to your current position? How about Desandra? Was she elected to be the alpha of the Wolf Clan?”
“That’s different and you know it.”
“No, it’s exactly the same. Desandra could’ve left Atlanta and gone to Kentucky, where shapeshifter packs are outlawed, and raised her kids quietly. Instead she carved her way to the top with her claws.”
He shook his head. “It’s like talking to a wall.”
I sighed. “Let me ask you this, do you think Atlanta is safer now than it was ten years ago when Kate defended it?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m not blind. I’m not peddling oppression. I’m doing my best to make sure that the ideals of individual freedom and rights don’t disappear. But I didn’t come here to convince or recruit you. I’m here because Kate is in danger. Moloch burns babies alive to power up. Can we agree that it’s bad? Will you help me stop him?”
He shook his head.
“Is that a no?”
“I’m shaking my head at myself. Because I am an idiot. Who else knows?”
“Luther.”
“You told Luther, but you didn’t tell me?”
I grimaced. “I didn’t have to tell him. He figured it out.”
Nick pondered me. “I will help you with Kate. And it’s the only thing I will assist you with. I’m watching you. Every step. Every breath.”
“Deal.”
I unloaded. I told him everything I’d learned about the murders, Derek, Ascanio, the ma’avirim, and relics.
He took it all in. “Ferara is getting worse.”
“I heard that he is aiming for the Beast Lord’s throne, but I have a hard time seeing it.”
Nick sighed again. “It’s complicated. Jim’s tired. You know he has children?”
“A boy and a girl.”
“He’s missed milestones with JJ and he doesn’t want to miss Diana’s childhood. He also restructured the Pack, pushing a lot of the burden for day-to-day functions onto the Clans. Nobody disputes that this had to be done, but the process gave the Clans a lot of autonomy. Desandra thinks too much. It will take someone as exceptional as Jim to hold them together after he retires.”
If Jim picked the wrong person, the Pack would fracture. A divided Pack would be bad for everyone.
“The alphas respect Jim,” Nick continued. “He earned their trust. Ascanio, not so much.”
“Why?”
“Part of the reason was the way he went about it. There are two paths to the top in the Pack: strategic alliances and physical power. One could say they are the sides of the same coin.”
Pack politics were a quagmire. The conflicts between individual clans could get hellishly complicated.
“Raphael made the boudas into a financial powerhouse. Both he and Andrea recognize that Ascanio is ambitious. They’re not ready to step down and make way for him, and they don’t want to fight him. Together they might win, but there is a good chance he would kill at least one of them.”
“So, they redirected his ambition away from themselves?”
“Exactly. They are advising him and plotting on his behalf. Ascanio is trying to build a coalition through money. Right now, both Clan Nimble and Clan Jackal are in the boudas’ pocket because they have joint financial ventures. Clan Heavy and Clan Cat oppose Ascanio. He tried to get a foothold in and was rebuffed.”
That made sense. Clan Heavy was still led by Mahon, who had raised Curran like his own son. In Mahon’s mind, only Curran was the proper Beast Lord. Clan Cat belonged to Jim. Cats were independent and infuriating in their stubbornness, but Jim had been their alpha before becoming Beast Lord and they would follow whoever he endorsed.
“What about the rats?”
Nick frowned. “It’s murky. They made some money off him, and they must’ve reached some sort of understanding, but rats always look out for rats. You can’t count on their support unless you get a definite yes from Thomas and Robert Lonesco, and so far Ascanio hasn’t gotten one.”
So that’s why he was running around the city unsupervised. The rats took the “wait and see” position. They observed him, they let him scheme, but they didn’t aid him. The fact that they didn’t interfere meant they thought he might succeed. Nobody would know where they stood until five minutes to midnight.
“I will say that for him, he’s gone further than anyone expected,” Nick said. “He’s good at observing people and using their weaknesses to his advantage. He doesn’t lose his temper like a typical bouda and he uses his head. Except when it comes to your boyfriend.”
“Derek Gaunt is not my boyfriend.”
“Does he know who you are?”
“No, and I plan to keep it that way. What happened between him and Ascanio?”
“This was just before Derek left, about six years ago. Ascanio needed to establish himself in Clan Bouda, so he could claim the beta spot. He tried to pull off a scheme in the city. It wasn’t exactly shady, but it was borderline.” Nick raised his hand and moved it side to side. “I don’t know all the details, but Derek got involved in it and told him to knock it off.”
That fit the pattern. As long as I’d known them, Ascanio had tried to prove that he was awesome, and Derek had showed him the error of his ways. When we were kids, Ascanio was younger and had less training. Ascanio’s own clan gave him to Kate to keep him breathing, while Derek had Curran, who treated him like a younger brother, something Ascanio envied. They were never friends.
“Things didn’t go well?” I guessed.
“Derek beat his ass in front of Ascanio’s bouda crew. They decided to jump in, and he beat them into submission. There were witnesses. People saw them cringing.”
And now everything made sense. Ascanio got his ass handed to him in public. Derek embarrassed Ascanio and then left before Ascanio could get a rematch. No matter what Ascanio did, his crew would always wonder if Derek was the better shapeshifter.
He had to fight Derek to keep his authority.
“So Ascanio has Clan Bouda, Clan Jackal, and Clan Nimble,” I thought out loud. “Clan Cat and Clan Heavy are in opposition. Clan Rat is sitting on the sidelines. Ascanio needs Clan Wolf. They are the largest clan. All of them are solid fighters, and they work well together. If he gets the wolves, he could tip the balance in his favor.”
“That’s right,” Nick said.
“What does Desandra think about him?”
“He irritates her.” Nick smiled. “Desandra is an alpha before all else. For her to bow her head, you would have to be stronger, smarter, and more skilled. Someone who would make her feel secure. Ascanio isn’t trustworthy. In her eyes, the very fact that he is resorting to money instead of making alliances or just challenging Jim makes him unfit.”
“That’s why he went after Pastor Haywood’s killer. Tying Desandra’s children to it would give him leverage.”
The muscles on Nick’s jaw bulged. “That’s what he thinks.”
I really wanted to ask what was wrong with Desimir that Nick would suspect him of flying around and murdering people, but he wouldn’t tell me in a million years.
“It’s not Desimir,” I told him. “I’m absolutely sure. The magic signatures don’t lie. Your stepson isn’t involved in this at all.”
Some of the tension went out of Nick’s shoulders. Despite everything, he still worried.
We looked at each other.
“You almost killed me.”
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“You made up this huge crazy theory and nearly started a war. I thought you were better, Uncle. You seemed so sane until this morning, but you’re worse now than when I left eight years ago.”
A slow, crooked smile stretched his lips. “Insanity works for me.”
Eventually the Order and the Pack would come into conflict. It was inevitable. I didn’t know what he would do then, and I had a feeling neither did he.
“What’s your next step?” Nick asked.
“I’m going to drop my great uncle off at my house and then I’ll go after Mark Rudolph.”
“Use the badge,” he told me.
“I’m planning on it.”
“I want updates. Every day.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t die.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
He waved his hand. The magic slithering along the floorboards died. I was free to go.
I was almost to the door when he asked, “The old man in Stella’s office, you said he was the highest-ranking minister.”
“Yes.”
“Minister of what?”
“Internal security.”
“He is a counter-spy?”
“He’s a royal assassin. The best in the Old Kingdom.”
Nick stared at me.
“Like I said, Shinar had its issues.” I smiled and escaped.
When I walked through the door of Stella’s office, she was on the phone. She had this flat expression on her face. Namtur watched her quietly.
Stella saw me. “She is right here.”
She held the phone out to me. I took it. Miraculously, the connection held.
“Knight Ryder?” Bishop Chao said into the phone.
“Yes?”
“Douglas had a stroke. I’m so sorry.”
Cold rolled over me. The world slid sideways. The memory of Douglas on the ground, his small, battered body smeared with blood. Don’t let them hurt me anymore… The words blended with a hoarse whisper from all those years ago that didn’t even sound like Kate. Want to…die…at home…
I heard myself say, “I thought he was improving.”
“So did we. They are working on him now. I will let you know if there is any change.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” I said.
“We will pray for him,” she said.
I handed the phone to Stella. She carefully hung it up and looked at me.
“You should sit down,” she said.
“I have things to do.” My voice sounded light, almost carefree.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not good,” she said. “I think you should sit down, take a breath, and reevaluate.”
I didn’t need to reevaluate anything. I was crystal clear on what I needed to do. “Thank you for your advice, Knight Davis. We will be going now.”
I walked out of the office with Namtur next to me. The groom was walking Tulip and Lady toward us.
“Who was he?” Namtur asked.
“A street child.”
“There will always be street children,” he said gently. “They will always get hurt. Some will die too early. You and I know this better than anyone.”
“This one was different.”
“How?”
“I saved him. He is supposed to survive.”
I took the reins from the Order’s groom and swung into Tulip’s saddle. She sensed my mood. Her ears went flat back.
Namtur mounted, and we rode down the street.
“You smell of murder,” the old assassin said. “It’s in your eyes.”
“I’ll take you to my home now, Great Uncle. I have something I must do this morning. Please wait for me in my house.”
He bowed to me slightly. “Yes, Sharratum.”