Kate Daniels 03 - Magic Strikes

pinch of copper thrown in, was incredibly potent magically. It was also extremely toxic to shapeshifters.
    “You don’t rank high enough to know the rest, so they won’t tell you,” Andrea said, “but I do. This particular alloy is very old and very poisonous to shapeshifters. You know how high my silver tolerance is. I can’t even hold it, Kate. Do you remember the agreement we made during the flare?”
    “Yes.” We had agreed that I would never reveal to the Order that she was a beastkin and she would never reveal that I knew enough specific information about Roland to induce a collective seizure in the entire Order.
    “There is only one person who has access to this alloy in a large quantity. The composition is very specific. It’s—”
    “About fifty-five percent gold, forty-five percent silver, three percent copper, and the rest is random crap.”
    “Yes.”
    Samos electrum, from the coins struck on a small Greek island in the North Aegean Sea in 600 BC. My heart dropped. Logic had lost and my unreasonable paranoia had triumphed.
    “I guess you know what that means, then,” she said.
    “Yes. Thank you,” I said.
    “Be careful.”
    I hung up.
    Roland. Only he had a large supply of the ancient Samos electrum. No doubt he meant for it to be used sparingly, perhaps as bullets or stakes, but instead the rakshasas had melted the lot of it just so they could pour it on Derek’s face. Dumb.
    Roland was the Sultan of Death. If I continued to oppose the rakshasas, I would come into a confrontation with his agents. I would be discovered.
    “Are you alright?” Dali asked.
    “Never better,” I said.
    A hot anger swept through me. If I was discovered, I would fight him to the end with everything I had, just like my mother had. I was fucking tired of paranoia and panic. It was an irrational, totally idiotic thought, and I reveled in it.
    Jim came up the stairs. “He’s up and talking.”
    I rushed down, abandoning my coffee.

CHAPTER 24

    HE SAT ON THE BED, HIS LEGS COVERED BY A BLUE sheet. He was human and his color had returned to its normal skin tone. His hair was still dark brown. And that was about all that remained of the former Derek.
    His face had lost its perfect symmetry. Its lines, so sharply defined before, had thickened and grown harsher. His features gained a rough hardness, and from the top of his mouth to his hairline, his face seemed slightly uneven, as if the shattered bones of his skull didn’t quite mesh. Before if he walked into a rough bar, someone would whistle and tell him he was too pretty. Now people would stare into their drinks and whisper to one another, “Here’s a guy who’s been through some bad shit.”
    He looked up. Dark velvet eyes regarded me. Usually a hint of sly humor hid there behind the solemn composure of a Pack wolf. It was gone now.
    “Hi, Kate.”
    His lips moved but it took me a second to connect the low, raspy voice with Derek’s mouth.
    “Damaged vocal cords?” I asked.
    He nodded.
    “It’s permanent,” Doolittle said softly. He stepped out of the room and closed the door. It was me and Derek now.
    I perched on the side of the bed. “You sound like you kill people for a living,” I told him.
    “I look like it, too.” He smiled. The effect was chilling.
    “Is there a spot on you that’s safe to punch?”
    “Depends on who’ll be doing the punching.”
    “Me.”
    Derek winced. “Then no.”
    “Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage to release from the past couple of days.” My voice was breaking. I struggled for control.
    “Positive.”
    All of my guilt, all of my worry, all the anxiety and pain and regret, everything I had carefully packaged and stuffed away into the deepest recesses of myself so I could function, all of it swelled into an unbearable pressure. I fought to contain it, but it was like trying to hold back the tide. A hint of relief was all it took. The flood burst through my defenses and drowned me.
    My spine turned to wet cotton. I clamped my arms to my sides, trying to hold myself rigid and keep myself from slumping over. A hard, hot clump blocked my throat. My heart thudded. It hurt, it really hurt, and I didn’t even understand where the pain emanated from. I just knew I hurt all over. Cold and burning up at the same time, I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering.
    “Kate?” Derek’s alarmed voice demanded my attention. If only I could speak, I’d be okay.
    I wished I could cry or something; I