Hounded

could not only sense my bindings but also determine their intent. » Precisely. That is because Radomila has placed a magical cloak on it. I want you to remove it, if you can. « I could remove it at any time with my tears—or so Radomila claimed, but I didn’t really trust her word anymore—and I wanted to see what Laksha could do. Those last three words guaranteed she would do it if she could. She didn’t want to admit that Radomila was a better witch than she was.
    » Ah, now I know what to look for. Just a minute. « She bent to study the sword again, stretched out a hand toward the hilt, then stopped and looked up. » May I? « I nodded and she continued. She lifted up the hilt from the bar and peered closely at the base of it. That evidently was not enough; she closed her eyes and then drew it toward her forehead, resting it there for about five seconds. Then the mask of concentration broke and she smiled, placing the hilt back on the bar.
    » Magical cloaks have to be fastened to the object, just like a normal cloak must be fastened about one’s neck. The most logical place to do that on a sword would be at the base of the hilt, and that is what she has done. She did a very good job; the cloak overlaps and there is almost no magical leakage at all. What did you have to pay her for such a service? «
    » Well, I went to Mendocino to fetch her a certain necklace. «
    Laksha threw Granuaile’s head back and laughed. It was not a reassuring one.
    » You gave her my necklace in exchange for this cloak! I think she got the better of you in that bargain! «
    » Well, she is going to get her karma soon, isn’t she? «
    Laksha nodded. » Yes, she will. «
    » Can you remove her cloak? «
    » Yes. It is the work of ten minutes. «
    » Excellent. There is one more small service I shall require of you to feel myself duly compensated in our exchange of favors. «
    The amused countenance on Granuaile’s face turned suddenly businesslike. » One more. Name it. «
    » When this is over—when you have your necklace back and a new body to live in—you will live east of the Mississippi and never enter Arizona again without informing me first. «
    She narrowed Granuaile’s eyes at me. » May I ask why? «
    » Certainly, « I said. » I have a healthy respect for your abilities, Laksha Kulasekaran. And I applaud your resolution to live cleanly and even do good works from this day forth. I especially appreciate the consideration you have shown to Granuaile to this point—and to me. But in the unlikely event you should again … traffic … with demons, I would prefer that it be someone else’s problem, far, far away. «
    She regarded me steadily, and I thought briefly it was going to become an Ancient Geezer Staring Contest, but she dropped her eyes and nodded before it could be construed as a challenge. » Done, « she said. » Contact Granuaile when you wish to dispel this cloak. It will require some preparation and some privacy. Contact her also when it is time to go after Radomila. «
    » I will. Thank you. «
    Granuaile’s head lolled to the side as if she were chronically narcoleptic, and then it bobbed back up again with the native owner’s personality back in charge.
    » Hi, Atticus! « she said, beaming. » Need another drink yet? «
    I looked at my glass, still half full, and quickly downed it. » Yep, « I said, plopping the glass down a bit sloppily. » Good to have you back. I missed you. « I took a deep breath and exhaled as the whiskey did its work, burning the tension away. She filled me up again and told me she’d be back after another round of visits to the rest of her customers.
    I never got to enjoy that last whiskey, because that’s when Gunnar Magnusson, alpha male of the Tempe Pack, came barging into Rúla Búla with most of his werewolves behind him—including Dr. Snorri Jodursson.
    » Where’s Hal? « he snarled at me.
    » He left almost an hour ago, « I said.
    » Something’s wrong, « Magnusson said. » Have you checked your phone lately? «
    » No, « I admitted, then remembered it beeping at me in the middle of my conversation with Laksha. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the display. It was from Emily, the youngest of the Sisters of the Three Auroras. The text read, » I have your lawyer and your little dog, too! Bring the sword to me or they both die. Emily. «
    It had been a long time since I’d felt any desire to truly inflict pain upon another person. I tend to take