Magic Rises

answered. Metal clanged and the massive gates swung open.
    Hibla bowed. “My lord and lady. Welcome to Castle Megobari.”
    I took a deep breath and walked next to Curran into the castle.
    * * *
    I was right. The walls were six feet thick. I counted six ballistas and four high-caliber antipersonnel guns on the walls, and that was just what I could see. This castle was built to withstand an assault from supernatural assailants. The Megobari family had some serious cash to throw around, and they’d used it to arm themselves to the teeth.
    I elbowed Curran. “Their castle is bigger.”
    He winked at me. “Mine is taller. It’s not the size of the castle. It’s what you do with it.”
    No obvious guards manned the gate, but as we passed under the portcullis, I felt watched. I was a hundred percent sure that if I made a sudden movement, someone would send an arrow my way. The question was, would they bother with a warning shot? I didn’t especially want to test that theory.
    We crossed the inner courtyard and followed Hibla into the main building. After the city, I had half expected carvings and moldings, but the inside of the castle was as devoid of ornamentation as the outside. Brown stone, straight-as-an-arrow hallways, arched windows. No doors but some niches, positioned in such a way that if the castle was breached, a couple of fighters with ranged firepower could hold off a flood of attackers. Everything was functional, solid, and meticulously clean.
    We passed a pair of shapeshifter men in the hallway, both blond. They stared at us with obvious hostility. I stared back. Looking is free. Touching will cost you an arm or a leg. Your choice.
    “Your rooms are on the third floor,” Hibla said. “Dinner will be served at ten.”
    “Late for a human,” I said. In the Keep we typically ate dinner around nine. Shapeshifters weren’t early risers, since they tended to stay up half of the night.
    “The Megobari family respects the customs of its guests,” Hibla said.
    “I will see all of you at dinner.” Lorelei said, looking directly at Curran.
    “Looking forward to it,” Curran said.
    I felt an urge to stab something and squished it. Lorelei retreated down the hallway.
    “Where is Desandra?” Curran asked.
    “She is in her quarters, on the third floor also,” Hibla said.
    Curran turned. “Hibla, we need to see Desandra. Now.”
    Andrea passed her bag to Raphael and came to stand by me. Derek came to stand by Curran.
    “Very well.” Hibla said something in a lilting language.
    The daggered dozen split: eight went with the rest of the group, led by an older man, and four came with us. We climbed the same stairs, and then Hibla turned right, while the rest of the shapeshifters turned left. We followed her to a metal door, guarded by a man and a woman in the same dark djigit coats. They moved aside as Hibla unlocked the door.
    The stench of rotten citrus washed over me. Not good.
    We stepped into a huge room. It was the size of my entire first apartment with all the walls knocked out. The vast ceiling rose to fully thirty feet in height, and gloom obscured the massive wooden beams running high above. Clothes lay strewn all over the floor, some shredded, some stained, punctuated by crumpled papers, food-stained plates, and shards of broken glass. A large wooden bed piled high with pillows and clumped blankets stood against one wall. A pregnant woman sat on it, her long hair tangled and dangling down over her purple dress. She looked up. Her irises shone with orange shapeshifter fluorescence.
    I looked at Andrea. She looked back at me. I saw the exact same thought on her face: this job was going to suck.
    “Hello, Desandra,” Curran said.
    “Fuck you.”
    “That’s nice,” Curran said. “It smells like rotten food in here.”
    Desandra shrugged. “Why are you here?”
    No trace of an accent. She spoke like she was born in the United States.
    “We’re here to take care of you.”
    “That’s bullshit and you know it.” She bared her teeth. “You’ll make the deal with whatever clan pays you more and sell these little parasites in my stomach. So go, make your deals. Nothing will change for me. Nothing ever changes for me.”
    “Are you done?” Curran asked.
    “You could’ve taken me away from all this,” she snarled.
    “You wouldn’t last a week in Atlanta,” he said.
    She stabbed her finger in my direction. “And she’s better? After all of your grandstanding, and oh, I’m the