Gunmetal Magic: A Novel in the World of Kate Daniels

I didn’t linger. I headed straight for the Keep, where the Atlanta shapeshifter Pack and His Furry Majesty resided.
    “I thought we’d go to dinner,” he said. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out.”
    Technically we had never gone out to dinner, just the two of us. Oh, we had eaten together in the city but usually it was accidental and most of those times had involved other people and frequently ended in a violent incident.
    “What’s the occasion?”
    Curran’s blond eyebrows came together. “Does there have to be a special occasion for me to take you out to dinner?”
    Yes. “No.”
    He leaned in to me. “I missed you and I got tired of waiting for you to come home. Come grab a bite with me.”
    Grabbing a bite sounded heavenly, except Andrea would be stuck here by herself. “I have to wait for Biohazard to pick up the jellyfish.”
    “I’ve got it,” Andrea offered. “Go, there’s no reason for both of us to sit here. I have some stuff I need to take care of anyway.”
    I hesitated.
    “I can sign forms just as well as you,” Andrea informed me. “And my signature doesn’t look like the scratches of a drunken chicken in the dirt.”
    “My signature is just fine, thank you very much.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Go have some fun.”
    “I need a shower,” I told Curran. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”
    It was Friday, eight o’clock on a warm spring night, my hair was brushed, my clothes were clean and slime-free, and I was going out with the Beast Lord. Curran drove. He did it very carefully, concentrating on the road. I had a feeling he’d learned to drive as an adult. I drove carefully too, mostly because I expected the car to fail on me at any second.
    I glanced at Curran in the driver’s seat. Even at rest, like he was now, relaxed and driving, he emanated a kind of coiled power. He was built to kill, his body a blend of hard, powerful muscle and supple quickness, and something in the way he carried himself telegraphed a shocking potential for violence and a willingness to use it. He seemed to occupy a much larger space than his body actually did and he was impossible to ignore. The promise of violence he carried used to scare me, so I’d bait him until some of it came out, the same way people afraid of heights would rock climb to cure themselves. Now I just accepted him, the way he accepted my need to sleep with a sword under my bed.
    Curran caught me looking. He flexed, letting the carved muscles bulge on his arms, and winked. “Hey, baby.”
    I cracked up. “So where are we going?”
    “Arirang,” Curran said. “It’s a nice Korean place, Kate. They have charcoal grills at the tables. They bring you meat and you cook it any way you want.”
    It figured. Left to his own devices, Curran consumed only meat, punctuated with an occasional dessert. “That’s nice for me, but what will your vegetarian Majesty eat?”
    Curran gave me a flat look. “I can always drive to a burger joint instead.”
    “Oh, so you’d throw a burger down my throat and then expect making out in the backseat?”
    He grinned. “We can do it in the front seat instead, if you prefer. Or on the hood of the car.”
    “I’m not doing it on the hood of the car.”
    “Is that a dare?”
    Why me?
    “Kate?”
    “Keep your mind on the road, Your Furriness.”
    The city rolled by, twisted by magic, battered and bruised but still standing. The night swallowed the ruins, hiding the sad husks of once mighty, tall buildings. New houses flanked the street, constructed by hand with wood, stone, and brick to withstand magic’s jaws.
    I rolled down the window and let the night in. It floated into the car, bringing with it spring and a hint of wood smoke from a distant fire. Somewhere a lone dog barked out of boredom, each woof punctuated by a long pause, probably to see if the owners would let him in.
    Ten minutes later we pulled into a long, empty parking lot, guarded by old office buildings that now housed Asian shops. A typical stone building with huge storefront windows sat at the very end, marked by a sign that read ARIRANG .
    “This is the place?”
    “Mhm,” Curran said.
    “I thought you said it was a Korean restaurant.” For some reason I had expected a
hanok
house with a curved tiled roof and a wide front porch.
    “It is.”
    “It looks like a Western Sizzlin.” In fact, it probably used to be a Western Sizzlin.
    “Will you just trust me? It’s a nice place…” Curran braked, and the Pack