Ilona Andrews: Magic Breaks

“That’s fine,” Curran said. “He’ll meddle with us instead of the Pack and we’ll deal with it. The real question is, will you still love me if I’m not Beast Lord?”

I put my arms around him. “Of course I’ll still love you, you stupid idiot. The Beast Lord is an arrogant jerk. I never wanted him. I only wanted Curran.”

“Stay with me,” he said.

“Always,” I told him.

“I LIKE THIS one,” Julie announced.

I surveyed the three-story house. Solid, with thick walls and grates over the windows, it was built post-Shift from hard brown stone. Curran tilted his head. The announcement of our retirement had hit the Pack first thing in the morning and spawned a shit storm of enormous proportions. We were supposed to be attending an emergency Pack Council session, except the three of us sneaked out of the Keep instead. We had breakfast at a small mom-and-pop joint and then stopped by a Pack real estate office. Once Nina, the real estate agent, a red-haired woman in her forties, regained her ability to speak, she sprang into action. This was the third house we had seen and I really liked it. It sat by itself on a five-acre lot on the outskirts of Atlanta, only three miles from Cutting Edge. Peach trees grew in the back, but the house itself sat in the middle of what would be a grassy lawn in the spring. Julie circled around and reported the presence of a pool in the backyard.

“All of this used to be office buildings.” Nina waved her arm at the street. “Once it was cleared, they decided to subdivide it into five-acre lots. You have neighbors on the left and on the right, but across from you there’s only about a hundred yards of trees and then Lake Smallish. Pool and stables for six mounts are in the back. This is a relatively safe area as far as northern Atlanta goes.”

“Safe isn’t a problem,” Curran said. “I’ll make it safe.”

“It’s only half an hour from my school,” Julie said. “That cuts my commute in half.”

“You might have to ride a horse,” I told her. “Jezebel won’t be able to take you back and forth anymore.” Jezebel worked for the Pack and we were severing ties.

Julie’s eyes lit up. “Can I ride Hugh’s horse?”

“I’ll think about it,” Curran said.

I thought she’d be upset about leaving the Keep. Instead, she’d shrugged and announced that as long as she could go to the same school, she didn’t care.

“Shall we go in?” Nina unlocked the door.

Julie went inside.

“It’s kind of big,” I said.

Curran grinned. I tapped him on the arm.

“That’s good. Plenty of privacy.”

“Can we afford this?” I asked Curran. It had to cost an arm and a leg.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m loaded.”

“Well, aren’t we smug, Your Furriness.”

“Technically, you can’t call me that anymore.”

“I’ll call you whatever I like.”

We stepped inside. Sand-colored tile lined the floor. The house was bright and open. Light streamed through the windows. The air smelled like freshly baked cookies. Here we go. It felt so comfortable here. And the office was less than twenty minutes away by horse. It was like it was tailor made for us.

“Four thousand square feet. Open floor plan,” Nina rattled off. “Tile on the first floor, hardwood on the two top floors. Beautiful windows throughout, state-of-the-art grates with high silver content . . .”

We followed her into the kitchen. It was almost as big as my old apartment. A platter of cookies waited for us on the counter with a small white note.

“The cookies are a nice touch,” Curran said.

Nina paused. “I didn’t do that. I had no idea I was going to show this one today.”

I plucked the note from the counter.

I like this one. Plenty of room for the grandchildren and a sizable guest suite.

PS. The wards on the north side need to be reinforced.

~R