Лори Девоти - Unbound

This human weakness had to stop. The best way to save Kara was to stop thinking of her as a woman and start thinking of her as just another witch he had to retrieve.

Dressed, he pressed his palms against the rough stones of his fireplace and concentrated. He would go to the garm, force the wolf forandre to let him pass, and retrieve Kara’s sister. After that he would…His mind grasped for a solution.

He smacked the rock with his closed fist; a chunk of stone smashed against the floor. He picked it up, let the sharp edges dig into his palm.

There had to be a solution, and he would find it, but for now he would just concentrate on the first step in his plan. Time to intimidate the garm.

Focusing on the area outside the bar, he prepared to shimmer. The first tingles had started crawling up his arms when he heard it — the eerie peel of Lusse’s horn.

Damn the witch. She was calling him back again.

Risk arrived in Lusse’s parlor again. She was sitting in her velvet chair flanked by Bader, who held the horn, and Sigurd. The other hound shot Risk a challenging stare.

Risk ignored him.

“Lusse,” Risk said, a tinge of his impatience leaking into his voice.

“Risk?” She arched one brow.

He breathed in. This was not the time to antagonize her, not when he was so close to finding Kara’s sister. He curved his lips into a smile. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon.”

She tapped white-tinted nails on the arm of her chair. “Is my call a problem?”

He stepped forward. “Of course not. I was just on my way to confront the garm.”

“So, you found him.” She tilted her head toward Sigurd. “Sigurd suggested perhaps you were getting sidetracked. He heard…rumors.”

Where had Sigurd been that he would be hearing anything involving Risk’s activity in the human world? “I didn’t realize Sigurd was so trusted.”

She tipped just the ends of her lips upward. “Yes, well, it’s always good to have a backup plan, don’t you think? With Venge…detained. I needed another option. Sigurd stepped forward.”

The other male crossed his arms over his chest.

“No need. I will question the garm as soon as we are done here.”

“And the witch?” Lusse asked.

“Safe. I’m sure it won’t take me long to retrieve the sister,” Risk replied.

“But what will you do once you’ve retrieved her?” Sigurd asked, dropping his arms to his side, his chest expanding.

“Did you need anything else from me before I go capture your witch?” Risk asked, his gaze on Lusse.

Lusse twisted in her chair, her eyes drifting over the two men. With a smile, she turned back to Risk. “Don’t you have an answer for Sigurd?”

“Oh.” Risk angled his head. “Did he ask something?”

Bader clasped the horn, his hands turning white from the effort.

Risk’s gaze jumped from the old servant to Sigurd. “I apologize. Did you say something?”

Sigurd clenched his jaw, his eyebrows lowering. “You heard me. Talk is that the witch you were sent to find has a new pet. A hellhound.”

Risk kept his face still. “Of course, I’ve been with her. How else could I use her to find the sister?”

“Or maybe she’s using you. I can smell the humanity on you.” Sigurd curled his lip.

“I’m surprised you can smell anything over the stench of your jealousy.” Risk turned his gaze to Lusse. “I’m close. If you have no objection, I’ll—” With a roar, Sigurd changed from man to beast.

Kara straightened. “Why can’t I just pay the toll myself? With myself?”

The bartender picked up a towel and rubbed a glass dry. “’Cause I’m the guardian. I get the basics from the things on the other side of that doorway, what they want. I decide the details and what I want. And detail number one is no witch is giving herself up.

“You want to get through that door? Show enough balls to deal with one of them—” he pointed to the wall behind her “—out there. I guarantee you, desperate as they are — they’ve got nothing on what’s beyond that door.” He twisted his finger to point behind him.

Kara stared over his shoulder toward the dark doorway to which he’d gestured. Where did that thing lead? “Is it h-hell?” she asked.

He snorted. “No such place, at least not like you’re thinking of. Besides, in this case it isn’t the place you need to fear, but what’s living there, and how bad he wants out.”

“Is it—” He held up one hand, interrupting her. “We’re hitting those details again. I’m done. Time for you to pick your fate.”

Kara walked to the front door and placed her hands against the chipped paint. She could do this. She had to.

“You want, I can call that hellhound of yours. He can get you out of here.”

Call Risk? Kara didn’t even bother asking the bartender how he would do it — it didn’t matter. Shaking her head, she placed her hand on the doorknob.

The door burst open before she could even turn the metal ball. Her hooded attacker from earlier fell inside, his knife clattering onto the floor beside him.

The bartender walked to the end of the bar to scowl at the new arrival. “We’re closed.”

Her attacker looked up at the bartender then pushed himself to a sit. “I lost something here earlier. Had to leave in a bit of a hurry. Just stopping back to see if I could—” Kara stepped out of the shadows and the man froze. Using the heels of his feet, he scooted backward. Eyes wide, he held up one arm as if to ward her off. “I didn’t hurt you none. Don’t be turning your hellhound on me.”

Kara glanced from the man to the bartender, whose frown darkened.

She squatted onto the floor next to the man, and grabbed his foot as he made a move to put more distance between them. “I want you to take me through the doorway.”

His mouth fell open, revealing twisted, yellowed teeth. “No.”

With a light smile, the bartender shrugged and reached for another glass.

“It will be worth your while. I promise,” Kara urged.

“Even a giant’s cauldron of gold won’t help me if your hound gets me first.” The man successfully jerked his foot from her grasp, curled his legs into his chest and glowered at her.

“What about two cauldrons? I’m really valuable,” she replied.

“Two?” The man’s gaze darted to the bartender.

The bartender shook his head. “I just know the toll, not the reward or price once you fill it.”

The man edged forward, his eyes darting from side to side before settling on Kara’s face. “What makes you think you’re so valuable? That Jormun will pay more for you?”

The bartender made a hissing noise between his teeth. “No names, Narr.”

Narr tossed another cautious gaze around the empty room. Then reached out to grab Kara around the wrist. “What’s your talent?”

Narr’s rough hand bit into Kara’s skin, and he smelled of old beer and sweat. But he was a helluva better bargain than whatever waited for her outside the Guardian’s Keep.

“I’m a twin. A twin witch. And this…” she glanced at the bartender and lowered her voice “…Jormun you mentioned. He already has my sister.” At least she thought he did, and was willing to gamble her own life on that belief.

A small intake of breath signaled Narr’s excitement. He rubbed his hands together, glee shining from his eyes. “So, he needs you more than the others.”

He pulled his ratty hoodie close around his face and mumbled to himself. “Should be worth an extra cauldron, but—” He tightened his grip on Kara’s wrist. “What about the hound? I don’t want to be messing with no hound.”

“He’s not here is he?” she asked.

“Don’t mean he won’t show up. Forandre.” He narrowed his eyes to stare at the bartender. “They’re a territorial bunch.”