Kate Daniels 01 - Magic Bites

this, what do you say?”
    I said nothing.
    “No clever remark? Are you scared, Kate?” His voice dropped to a whisper, but the words he said thundered with power. “Estene aleera hesaad de viren aneda.” And now, you are forever mine.
    Oh Dear God. For him power words were a language. The strength of the ancient magic gripped me, crushing my mind with its enormity. The whirlwind of light swirled about me, carrying me away into unknown depths. I bit my tongue and tasted my blood. Something furious and defiant rose inside me and screamed. Blinded by the light, I heard myself speak a single word.
    “Dair.”
    Release.
    The light dimmed and I saw Bono’s eyes staring into mine. Unfamiliar words came, surfacing from someplace long forgotten, their meaning somehow clear. “Ar ner tervan estene.” I’ll kill you first.
    I smashed the bottle against the stairs. The glass shattered, spilling across concrete. I rammed the razor-sharp edge into his throat. Blood sprayed over me.
    “Ud.” Die.
    The ground shook with the power I sank into the word. The upir fell, blood gushing from his throat. I lunged to the door and dove through. The ward flowed closed behind me.
    An odd gurgling noise came from the upir. It struggled from his ruined throat, bubbling forth with the gushes of dark blood. Bono reached for the bottle. His fingers closed about the blood-slicked glass, slid, fastened around the edge, the glass slicing into the flesh of his fingers. He pulled and ripped the bottle from his neck, dropping it gently onto the boards.
    The gurgling noise strengthened, expelling blood with each tortured cough. Glass shards slid from the wound, carried down by the crimson flow. A hideous creature crept onto the porch to sniff the bloody bottle. Bono grabbed it with one hand and flung the forty-pound thing over the rails like a kitten.
    His fingers grazed the awful cut, wiping away the blood. The wound was closing. As it sealed shut, the gurgling noise mutated, growing louder, and I realized that Bono was laughing.
    “Nice try,” he said, displaying his unscarred neck. “My turn.”
    He leaped at the open door. An explosion of crimson rolled through the doorway and he howled, thrown back. He flipped and spun about, his eyes blazing. Silver from his eyes leaked onto his cheeks, staining the skin. There was nothing at all human about him now.
    He lunged again and saw the sharp, angular vampire bones guarding the doorway from the inside.
    “Bitch!”
    “Rock, wood, and bone, Bono,” I said dully. “Your ward is reinforcing mine.”
    He screamed. The windows vibrated. I threw my hands against my ears. Bono pounded his fists against the porch floor and the boards exploded.
    “Won’t work,” I told him. “You can demolish the whole house. The ward will still stand.”
    He stared at me, silvery streaks wetting his face as if he cried metal instead of tears. His offspring shivered and hugged the ground. “This isn’t over,” he howled. “I will murder all that give you protection. I’ll kill the cat and I’ll devour his flesh. His magic will be mine and then I’ll come back. No ward will guard you then!”
    He leaped from the porch, racing into the night, and his brood followed him.
    I leaned my head against the wall. The booze made it hard to think. He didn’t die. I hadn’t expected him to. One who can weave the power words into sentences wouldn’t die from a single word.
    The cat? He said he’d kill the cat. Was he talking about Jim? No, Curran, it had to be Curran. Jim wasn’t strong enough to threaten my ward. Curran was. All shapechangers had a natural resistance to warding spells. It had to do with the animal part of their nature. Curran’s resistance was the strongest. I could call Jim and warn him.
    Who would believe me?
    “ ‘And men my prophet wail deride!’ ” I mumbled and dragged myself to my feet.
    I called Jim anyway. He didn’t answer the call and the answering machine did not pick up.

    THE JOLT OF A WARD BREAKING RIPPED THROUGH my skull. My headache exploded and sleep fled.
    Someone was in my house.
    I slipped my hand under the pillow, found the handle of a throwing dagger, and pulled the blade free.
    I lay awake, breathing quietly. Silence and dark filled the rooms. There was no need to go hunting. Whoever it was would come to me.
    A man-sized shadow loomed in the hallway, a deeper darkness against the wall. It hesitated for a breath and approached. I closed my eyes, watching it through