Kate Daniels 02 - Magic Burns

looked good. A couple of inches taller than me, broad shouldered and corded with muscle visible even under his T-shirt, Curran moved with a natural grace particular to the very strong and naturally quick. He gave an impression of coiled power, a contained violence that, if released, would explode with terrifying intensity. The last time I saw him, his blond hair had been cropped too short to grab in a fight, but today he wore it longer, showing the beginning of a wave. I had no idea his hair was wavy.
    Curran picked up one of the bowls, looked at it for a second, as if considering a matter of some importance, brought the bowl over, and held it before me. The aroma arising from the bowl was heavenly. Suddenly I was ravenous. I sat up and clamped the bowl with both hands. And let go, shaking my fingers. It was the temperature of molten lava.
    â€œIdiot.” He set the bowl on the blanket before me and handed me a spoon.
    There are times in life when there is nothing better than a hot bowl of chicken soup.
    â€œThanks.” For the soup and for saving my butt again.
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    â€œDid you get the surveys? They were…”
    â€œOn the dresser. Shut up and eat your soup.”
    Curran took Doolittle’s chair, brought it over by my bed, and sat. If I reached out with my foot, I could touch him with my toes. Entirely too close for comfort. I moved Slayer closer.
    Curran watched me eat. Sitting like this, relaxed, he seemed almost ordinary: a man slightly older than me, kind of on the handsome side. Except for the eyes. They always gave him away. They were alpha eyes, the eyes of a killer and protector to whom the life of a Pack mate meant everything and the life of an outsider meant nothing. He wasn’t giving me his hard stare now, merely watching. But I wasn’t fooled. I knew how quickly those eyes could drown in lethal gold. I’ve seen what happens when they do.
    Curran commanded over five hundred shapechangers. Half a thousand souls stuck on the crossroads between beast and man, each a spree-killer waiting to happen. Wolves, hyenas, rats, cats, bears, they were united only by two things: the desire to stay human, and loyalty to the Pack. And Curran was the Pack. They worshipped the ground he walked on.
    â€œSo that’s the secret,” the Beast Lord said.
    I froze with the spoon halfway to my mouth. That was it. He had figured out what I was and now he was playing with me.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked. “Gone a bit pale there.”
    In a moment he would drop the charade and rip me to pieces. If I was lucky. “Secret to what?”
    â€œSecret to shutting you up,” he said. “I just have to beat you till you’re half-dead, then give you chicken soup and”—he raised his hands—“blessed silence.”
    I went back to the soup. Ha-ha. Very funny.
    â€œWhat did you think I meant?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I mumbled. “The ways of the Beast Lord are a mystery to a humble merc like me.”
    â€œYou don’t do humble.”
    At least he still treated me as if I were on my feet, ready to defend myself, instead of being trapped in a bed, eating chicken soup. Speaking of soup…I set the bowl aside and looked longingly at the tray. I wanted more. The medmagic made the body burn through nutrients at an accelerated rate, and I was starving.
    Curran took a bowl from the platter and offered it to me. I reached for it. His fingers touched mine and lingered. I looked into his eyes and saw tiny gold sparks dancing in the gray. His lips parted, allowing for a narrow flash of his teeth.
    I grabbed my bowl and scooted away from him. The hint of a smile curved the corners of his mouth. He found me amusing. That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was looking for as the Order’s rep.
    â€œWhy did you save me?”
    He shrugged. “I picked up the phone and there was a hysterical child on the other end, crying that you were dying, and she was all alone, and the undead were coming. I thought it might be an interesting conclusion to a boring evening.”
    Bullshit. He came because of Julie. Shapeshifters suffered from devastating child mortality, with half their children being born dead and another quarter being killed because they went loup at puberty. Like all shapeshifters, Curran cherished children and he also hated vampires. He probably figured he would kill two birds with one stone: save Julie and