Magic Rises

completely.
    Then bad things happened and Derek’s face paid the price. His good bone structure was still there, but trauma had thickened his clean lines and stripped any remnants of softness from his features. His brown eyes had turned hard and distant, and when he decided to be unfriendly, they went completely flat. I’d seen that kind of stare from veteran pit fighters. It said you weren’t a human being. You were an object to be removed.
    The stare worried me. Derek was a friend. Even if the entire Pack turned on me, he would stay in my corner. But the humor, the spark that used to make Derek who he was, was growing dimmer and dimmer. If it disappeared, Derek would be in a bad place. I’d been there and it was hard to claw your way out of that hole.
    Curran pretended not to see him. Derek didn’t say anything. He simply stood.
    “Yes,” Curran said without turning.
    Derek nodded and walked away without a word. Now we had five: Barabas, George, Mahon, Derek, and tentatively Keira. The contract had specified that the Carpathians expected us to bring no more than fifteen people. Curran and I settled on ten, excluding ourselves. It was a nice number and it showed that we weren’t afraid.
    Jim was sitting there with that slightly glazed-over look in his eyes that usually meant that three fourths of his brain was engaged somewhere else.
    “You okay?” I asked him.
    He looked at me. “Where the hell am I going to find a ship . . . ?”
    A guard approached the door.
    “Yes?” I asked.
    “Aunt B is here to speak with the Consort.”
    Meeting with the alpha of Clan Bouda was like sticking your hand into a garbage disposal. The switch could be flicked on at any second.
    Curran got up. “I’ve got to go.”
    “Coward,” I told him.
    He grinned at me. “Later, baby. Come on, Jim, you have to go, too.”
    They took off down the hallway.
    I looked at Barabas. “There is only one exit. How do they plan to get by her?”
    “They’ll hide in the guard room until she comes through. Shall I show Aunt B in?” Barabas asked.
    “There is no escape, is there?”
    “No.”
    I sighed. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
    * * *
    The alpha of Clan Bouda wore a cheery white sundress with an overlapping pattern of large red poppies. Her hair was rolled into a loose, carefree bun. A pair of sunglasses perched above her forehead. If you added a straw hat and a picnic basket, she would be all set.
    Aunt B was in her early fifties, but the kind of fifties to which most women would aspire. Her skin was smooth, her makeup understated but expert, her figure generous but still athletic. Her lips smiled often, and her voice was all sweetness and cookies, but when she really looked at you, the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, because you realized that she was smart, ruthless, and dangerous as hell. She ruled the bouda clan, and anybody able to hold more than three dozen werehyenas in check should never be taken lightly. I’d seen her in action. Not many things gave me the creeps, but she managed. For now Aunt B was in my corner, but I had no delusions. Ours was a conditional kind of friendship: if I stopped being useful to her and hers, she’d forget my name.
    Behind her, Andrea Nash, my best friend and the current beta female of Clan Bouda, walked into the room. Short, blond, and lethal, Andrea was engaged to Aunt B’s son, Raphael. People really liked Andrea. She seemed nice and approachable. She also could shoot the dots off dominoes from great distances and turned into a monster with claws the size of my pinkies.
    I smiled at Aunt B and pointed at the table. “Please, join me.”
    For shapeshifters, an offering of food held a certain significance. It could be a declaration of romantic interest, or it could be a confirmation of alpha status. Those who offered food declared themselves responsible for those who took it. Despite the fact that Aunt B had clued me in on the custom before I became the Consort, she had tried to feed me. Since I stood higher than Aunt B on the food chain, the tables had turned.
    “Don’t mind if I do.” Aunt B seated herself on my right. Andrea took position behind her, as beta.
    I glanced at her. “Really?”
    Andrea sighed. “Oh fine, just don’t tell anybody.” She dropped into the chair next to me. I passed her a plate.
    “What brings you up all these stairs?”
    “I’m concerned for your well-being.” Aunt B slid a piece of bacon into a pancake, folded it,