Magic Rises

stepped into his way. “Stop.”
    Eduardo skidded to a halt.
    “Look at me.”
    The big man focused on Curran’s face.
    “Man up,” Curran said, his voice saturated with force. “We’re still in danger. I still need you. Don’t fold on me.”
    Eduardo exhaled through his nose.
    “That goes for all of you,” Curran said. “Later we can sit around and wonder what if and cry about what we should’ve done different. Right now, we work. We’ve been attacked. They’re still out there. We will hunt them down and take them apart.”
    Barabas sat a little straighter. Keira pushed herself from the wall.
    Curran looked back at Eduardo. “Okay?”
    “Okay,” the big man said.
    “Good.” Curran turned to Demet. “Heal Kate.”
    * * *
    I woke up with Curran sitting next to me. He didn’t say anything. He just sat next to me and looked at me.
    “Were you watching me sleep? Because I thought we agreed that’s creepy.”
    He didn’t answer.
    We were alone in the room. Doolittle and his tub, Keira, and everyone else were gone. On second thought the covers under me looked familiar. I was on our bed. He must’ve carried me to our room. I usually woke up if someone moved outside my room behind a closed door. How did I sleep through him carrying me? Doolittle had a habit of slipping sedatives into my drink, because I ignored his instructions to lie down and rest, but the last I saw him he was in the bathtub. Demet and her children had chanted my wounds into regeneration. I recalled a rush of soothing coolness foaming over my wounds. And then George handed me a glass of water.
    “George sedated me. Okay, the drugging thing has to stop. Also, if one of them ever attempts to hold me down and pour booze on my wound, I will kill somebody. That’s not an idle threat either.”
    Curran didn’t say anything.
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    He nodded at the wall.
    I concentrated. The magic was still up, and as I quested forward, I felt something stir behind the stone. Not a vampire, but something odd. Something I hadn’t felt before. We were being listened to.
    Curran’s mouth was a hard slash across his face. He was angry. Monumentally, terribly angry.
    I reached over and touched his face, looking for that intimate connection. Hey. Are we still okay?
    He took my hand, his strong fingers hot and dry, and squeezed it. Okay. We were still okay. He didn’t have to say anything else.
    “Did Doolittle talk to you?” I asked.
    He shook his head.
    I reached over to the night table, took a small notepad, and a pen, and wrote on it, He tested Desandra’s amniotic fluid. One of the babies could grow wings.
    Curran’s eyes widened. He took the pen. Did she sleep with one of those things?
    Most likely Radomil or Gerardo is one of those things.
    How is that possible?
    You have two forms, human and animal. Doolittle thinks that these guys have a third one: human, animal, and monster with wings.
    Curran shook his head. “Which one is it?”
    No way to tell. The amniotic fluid indicates that one baby is a wolf and the other is something else. The Lyc-V with wolf genes could come from Desandra. They must’ve known or suspected Doolittle found something out. That’s why they wrecked his lab.
    Who knew that Doolittle had taken the amniotic fluid? Curran wrote.
    Ivanna for sure, I wrote. Radomil’s sister had offered to hold Desandra’s hand in case she was scared. At the time I thought she was a decent human being. Anybody could’ve seen it. Radomil and Ignazio were all brawling in the hallway while Doolittle worked.
    A familiar careful knock sounded through the door. Barabas.
    “Just a minute.” I flipped the piece of paper over. I’m going to ruffle the packs to see if I can get a reaction.
    Anybody who isn’t watching Desandra will be watching Doolittle, he wrote.
    Perfect. “I have to go meet with the packs this morning,” I said aloud. “Anything you may want me to pass along?”
    “Yes.” Curran took the note folded it and methodically tore it into confetti. “Tell them that there is no escape from me.”
    * * *
    The Belve Ravennati were my first stop. We met by a giant bay window in one of the public rooms where soft tan furniture sat arranged around a coffee table. The wolves from Ravenna didn’t want me in their quarters.
    I sat in a love seat across from Isabella Lovari. Gerardo sat on her left. His brother was nowhere to be found. Three other people joined us, all with a similar bearing: clean-cut,