Kate Daniels 01 - Magic Bites

could make out dim contours of a human shape hanging motionless in the green water.
    I knocked on the glass. The body moved and Curran surfaced with a splash. He took the oxygen mask from his mouth and held on to the edge of the tank for support, which resulted in the rest of him pressing against the glass. Just what I needed. Pasty Beast Lord in all his nude glory against the backdrop of swamp water.
    His new skin was very pale. The thick blond hair of his scalp and eyebrows was now barely longer than morning stubble.
    “Thank you,” I said, keeping my gaze fixed on his face.
    “You’re welcome.”
    Feeling awkward, I fought an urge to shift from foot to foot. “I’m leaving.”
    “When?”
    “After I talk to you.”
    “Doolittle’s released you?”
    The memory of the aging doctor glaring at me in outrage popped into my head. “He didn’t have much choice.”
    “You can stay if you need to.” Curran wiped the moisture dripping from his chin.
    “No thanks. I appreciate it and all, but it’s time to go.”
    “Places to go, people to meet?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Sure you don’t want to join me in the tank? The water is fine.”
    I blinked, at a loss for words. Curran laughed, clearly enjoying every second.
    “Ahh, no,” I managed.
    “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
    Was he coming on to me or just messing with me? Probably the latter. Well, then, two could play that game. I looked pointedly at his midsection. “No thanks,” I said. “I know exactly what I’m missing.”
    He grinned.
    I said, “I’ve come to talk about Derek.”
    Curran managed to shrug while still holding on to the wall. “I’ve released him from his blood oath.”
    “I know. He insists on tagging along and I don’t want him to. I tried to explain that I do dangerous work for little money and that being in my vicinity is bad for his health.”
    “What did he say?”
    “He said, ‘Yeah, but will I get chicks? In truckloads?’ ”
    Curran laughed, submerging like a dolphin, and surfaced again. “I’ll talk to him.”
    “Could you do it sooner rather than later? He thinks he’s going to drive me home.”
    “Alright. Tell Mila at the door to send him to me.”
    “Thanks.”
    I turned.
    “How did you get through the fire?” he asked.
    Oh crap. “It wasn’t fully up,” I said. “Dumb luck. Couldn’t get out of it though. I guess she was hell bent on bringing that ceiling down on my head.”
    “I see,” Curran said. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not.
    I turned around and made a little mocking bow that made my stomach hurt. “Would there be anything else, Your Majesty?”
    He waved me off with a flick of his wrist. “Dismissed.”
    Curran was too dangerous to know. Too powerful, too unpredictable, and worst of all, possessing an innate ability to infuriate me, throwing me off balance.
    Hopefully our paths would not cross again.
    A young wolf whose name I didn’t know drove me to Greg’s apartment. I thanked him and walked up the stairs to find a white stain of a note pinned to my door. It said, “Kate, I tried to call but you didn’t answer. I hope we’re still on for tonight. I’ve made a reservation at Fernando’s for six o’clock. Crest.” I tore the note off the door, crumpling it, and tossed it aside. The wards shimmered shut. The sturdy door separated me from the rest of the world, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Kicking off the Pack’s sneakers, I crawled into the bed, and fell asleep.
     
     
    WHEN I AWOKE, LATE AFTERNOON WAS SLOWLY burning down to evening. I felt drained and uneasy, unsettled, as if I’d missed an important deadline. Searching my brain for the causes of my rotten mood produced no results and I felt worse.
    I lay in bed and looked at the ceiling, considering calling Crest and telling him to forget it. That would be the sensible thing to do. Unfortunately, sensibility was not among my virtues. To miss the date was somehow equivalent to giving up without trying.
    I shambled to the bathroom and washed my face with cold water. It didn’t help.
    There was only one dress I could wear to Fernando’s, both because it was the only formal dress I owned and because it was the only dress hanging in Greg’s guest closet. I had worn it to a formal function he had dragged me to in November, where I had spent two hours listening to people who loved hearing themselves orate.
    I took the dress from the closet and dropped it onto the bed, then went to the