Kate Daniels 02 - Magic Burns

said in a small voice.
    â€œNot yet,” he said. “Let it grow bigger.”
    What was going on between the two of them? The way they looked at each other gave me the creeps.
    â€œTell me about the creatures that hurt you.”
    â€œThey were fast, with long hair. The hair grabbed me like it was alive. They were afraid of the bowman.”
    â€œTell me about the cauldron.”
    Red twitched as if shocked with a live wire, burst from his seat, and ran out the door. Julie was sitting closest to the door, and she beat me to the stairs by a quarter of a second. She dashed down, and I forced myself to stop.
    They were kids.
    Life had beaten them until they had nearly turned wild. They had no refuge, they trusted nobody except each other, and I would be damned if I were going to go down there and threaten Red with a beating to scare the truth out of him. Enough was enough. If they came back, they came back. In the meantime, I’d figure it out my own way.
    I went back into the kitchen and ate a piece of sausage off my plate. Through the window I could see Red and Julie on the street. They stood close together, his dark head against her blond. As I watched, the tech hit. The electric lamp came on in the living room, bathing the apartment in a comfortable muted glow. Down on the street, the lone surviving lamp shone from the top of the post, illuminating the kids. They moved to the left, just beyond its light. The faces of the new world: a street shaman and his girlfriend. Starved, feral, magic.
    They talked while I finished my plate and drank my water. Finally Red pulled something from his pocket and put it around Julie’s neck. Probably a charm.
    Julie hugged him. He sort of stood there, very rigid, while her arms were locked around his neck. He probably didn’t want to look weak in public. Dread crept up on me. Why was it that watching these two gave me a bad feeling?
    Kind of like imagining me with Max Crest.
    If Greg had still been alive, I wouldn’t have given Max a second glance. Greg’s death had hit me harder than I thought it would; I was lonely, scared, and desperate for a warm, loving guy to come home to. For someone to lean on. Max just happened to be at precisely the wrong place at the wrong time. Our relationship had been doomed from the start, because it was based on grief, and unlike love, grief eventually passed. Now that time had filed off the sharp edges, I felt no jealousy toward Myong, nor did I feel any longing for Max. I didn’t miss him. Yet every time his name came to mind, I felt a vague unpleasant sensation, not guilt exactly, but something akin to embarrassment.
    Ugh. I wanted to take the whole thing, wrap it up, stick it in a box, and drop the box off a pier. If I had never run across Max Crest again, I would’ve been perfectly happy. But now I had to arrange his wedding. How the hell did I get myself into these things?
    Speaking of the wedding. I tried the phone, got a dial tone, and called the number Derek had given me.
    â€œSoutheast office,” a female voice answered.
    Either I had gotten the wrong number or boy wonder was moving up in the world. “Derek, please.”
    The phone clicked and Derek’s voice came on the line. “Yes?”
    â€œYou have a secretary?”
    He laughed. “No, it’s just Mila. She screens the calls. What can I do for you?”
    â€œI have the packet.”
    â€œAwesome!” He checked himself and continued in a more even tone. “When can I pick it up?”
    â€œI’ll drop it by tomorrow.”
    â€œDid you beat the shit out of him?”
    Ha! Derek was still in there, under the Mr. Cool Pack Wolf veneer. “Sort of. You’re right, he disappears. He also regenerates while he’s gone.”
    Julie came back into the apartment. She was wearing a small monisto: a necklace of coins and tiny metal charms. She paused in the hallway, testing the waters, decided I wasn’t going to explode, slid back into her chair, and checked the bowl for more boil. Only potatoes were left. She took a handful and ate them, licking her fingers.
    â€œI have a favor to ask.” I moved the butter and salt closer to her.
    â€œAnything I can do,” Derek said.
    Julie was watching me covertly, probably trying to gauge if any fussing was forthcoming.
    â€œI need an audience with his furry Highness.” I can’t believe I’m saying this.
    â€œI can’t believe