Gunmetal Magic: A Novel in the World of Kate Daniels

want my help, let her off the hook.” Raphael growled.
    Anapa shook his head. “No.”
    “Why?”
    The ghostly jackal head appeared around Anubis. “Who are you to question me?”
    Raphael’s lips trembled, betraying a flash of his teeth. “She goes free with no obligation to participate in your scheme. That’s my price.”
    “Rejected.”
    They stared at each other. Muscles tensed on Raphael’s frame. I smelled a brawl.
    A third of me wanted to rip Raphael’s head off for the insult. I was perfectly capable of holding my own. I didn’t need his help to extricate me, nor did I need his grand sacrifice. Another third was all bursting at the seams with happiness: when facing a god, his first thought wasn’t about saving himself but about keeping me safe. He was willing to fight a god of chaos to keep me out of this mess. The final third of me just howled in blind terror, terrified for my safety, and even more terrified for the idiot bouda who was trying to buy my life with his.
    And that was my relationship with Raphael in a nutshell: too complicated.
    If I didn’t do something, the fool would throw himself away. In my head I saw Raphael buried under a pile of snakes. It was like a dagger straight in the heart.
    No. No-no-no. Not happening.
    I cleared my throat. “Girls, girls, you’re both lovely. I appreciate the sentiment, I do. But I will make my own decisions and the two of you will kindly get the hell out of my way.”
    Raphael looked like he wanted to bite something. A self-satisfied smirk played on Anapa’s lips. I didn’t like it. Not one little bit.
    “Counteroffer,” I said. “You take me, let Raphael go.” No need for both of us to get killed.
    “Denied,” the god said. “This is getting tiresome.”
    Arghhh. “What is it you want from us, exactly?”
    “The priests have my fang, the staff, and the descendants of the Saii. They lack the scale. It was made into a shield. I need you to get it before the priests do.”
    “Why don’t you just get it yourself?” Raphael asked.
    “Because I am a god. I don’t run my own errands.”
    “Did you know he’s a god?” Raphael asked me.
    “I had no idea. He hasn’t mentioned it,” I said.
    “So modest and unassuming,” Raphael said.
    “I will kill you both and make pretty rugs out of your pelts,” Anapa said. “Stop being tiresome and get the scale for me.”
    Simple enough. “Where is it?”
    “Ask your friend,” Anapa said. “Ask the Beast Lord’s Consort.”
    “Kate?” How the hell was Kate involved in this?
    “Yes. Tell her to bring another deer. She will know.”
    “I’m not going to move a finger unless you give me clear and simple instructions without mystical bullshit.”
    “That’s not my way,” Anapa said. “You will take your instructions in whatever form I choose.”
    “Then I’m out.” Chew on that, why don’t you.
    “Is that your final word?” Anapa said.
    “Yes.”
    “Fine. We’ll do it the hard way.”
    A girl walked out of the back room. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. She moved slowly, as if unsure where her feet were. Her eyes, dark and opened wide, were blank. Her dark skin had an ashen tint.
    I tensed. Next to me Raphael bent his knees slightly, preparing for a leap.
    “This is Brandy.”
    Brandy looked at us with her empty eyes.
    “Brandy is a shapeshifter like you. From Clan Jackal. The jackals and I share a certain bond.” Anapa studied his nails, looking bored. “I plucked her out at random. Her parents are frantically looking for her by now, I’d imagine. Why don’t you tell them how you feel, Brandy?”
    The child opened her mouth. “Help,” a weak tiny voice said. “Help…me.”
    I yanked the bow off my shoulder and aimed an arrow at Anapa’s left eye. Raphael exploded in a riot of fur and muscle, snarling as the monster that was a bouda in a warrior form spilled into existence.
    “Let the child go.” I sank the promise of death into my voice.
    “Every day you do not do as you are told, I’ll take another Jackal child at sunset,” Anapa said. “If the lion gets involved, the children die. If any of your other Pack friends help you fight, the children die.”
    I fired. My arrow pierced the wood of the chair a fraction of a second before Raphael’s claws scoured it. The child and the god were gone.

CHAPTER 13

    The office phone was dead.
    Roman took off “to gather supplies.”
    Anapa said the shapeshifters couldn’t help us fight. He said