Ilona Andrews - Magic Binds

His hand shot out, but I saw it a mile away. He was a wizard, but I was a professional killer. The slap never landed. Roland stared at my hand blocking his.

“I’m leaving now, Father. I’ll come for Saiman. You took him from me, I will take him back, and then we’ll be even and you’ll have a choice to make.”

I turned and walked off the wall. There was nothing else to say. People fled from my path. The two fighters from the wall had disappeared. A storm spun above the castle, dark clouds churning. I couldn’t have cared less.

Derek and Julie waited for me, standing still in the human chaos, as Roland’s people tried to secure the castle against the rising wind. Julie’s face was bloodless. She was holding the reins of her and my horses, trying to keep them in place as they eyed the storm with rising panic. Derek’s expression said nothing, flat and impassive. His eyes shone yellow-green. He was on the edge of violence. I marched past them, out the gates, and to the cross. They followed me. My father was still where I had left him, watching.

I looked at Derek and pointed at the cross. He moved behind it.

I pictured my father’s face in the wood, took a step, and hammered a side kick into the base of the cross. I sank all my strength and fury into it. The wood cracked. I kicked it again and again and again. The cross toppled down, with the man on it, and Derek caught it. I pulled a knife out of its sheath and sliced through the rope on the Iron Dog’s ankles and wrists. Derek pulled him off the cross and slung him over Cuddles’s back. I swung into the saddle and rode off, Derek and Julie following me.

Behind us, dark clouds boiled, hiding the sun.

WHEN WE RODE to the meeting spot, Curran’s group had gained two new members. Barabas, his spiky hair standing straight up, was playing cards with Evelyn, one of Jim’s scouts.

Ella eyed the Iron Dog slung over my saddle. “That’s not a cookie.”

Curran saw my face. His expression hardened.

“How’s the bridge?” Barabas called out.

“There is no bridge.”

Barabas opened his mouth and closed it with a click.

“When is he coming?” Curran asked.

“I don’t know.”

Derek took the Iron Dog off the horse. Hugh’s man looked dead.

Derek slapped his face lightly. “Hey.”

The man’s eyelashes flickered.

Derek looked up. “Water?”

One of the mercenaries passed him a canteen, and Derek held the flask to the man’s mouth.

The prisoner came to life and gripped the canteen, drinking.

“Not too much,” I said, dismounting. “He’ll vomit.”

“Who is this?” Curran asked.

“Hugh’s second-in-command.”

Curran stared at me for a long second.

“What was said, exactly?” Barabas asked.

“I told my father that he had to give Saiman back. He gave me this man as a consolation prize. Roland had ordered him to murder some people. The Iron Dog refused, so my father decided to torture and slowly kill him. Then my father condescended to explain to me that when people didn’t play ball, things like that happened. I told him what I thought about that.”

Barabas squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “How did he take it?”

“Look behind me.”

Barabas glanced at the storm raging in the east. “I knew I should’ve come with you. This is my own fault. Did he say anything about declaring war or coming for you?”

“No. He tried to slap me.”

“He what?” Curran snarled. His eyes went gold.

“He tried to slap me. I blocked it and told him that I would get Saiman back, it would make us even, and then he would have to decide what he would do about it.”

“Did he say anything else?” Barabas asked.

“No.”

The Iron Dog retched and vomited water on the ground.

“So no declaration of war has been made. We can work with this.” Barabas exhaled.

Yeah, right. “I don’t want to work with it.”

“I completely understand.” The weremongoose nodded his red head. “That’s why I would advise you to avoid speaking with your father while we untie this knot and hopefully prevent the city from being plunged into a horrible war with mass casualties.”

“Yes, of course, this is all my fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Barabas said. “All you had to do was walk in there and have a simple conversation with your father.”

Simple? “You know what I don’t need, Barabas? I don’t need you to criticize how I speak to my father .”

The mercs took a step back in unison.

Curran put his hand on my shoulder.

“Be careful, Kate,” Barabas said, his expression unreadable. “Your magic is showing.”

“Do you know where I found him?” I pointed to the Iron Dog. “I took him off a cross. There were thirty more like it.”

“Thirty-two,” a hoarse voice said.

I turned. The Iron Dog sat up, his light gray eyes open.

“Thirty-two people,” he repeated quietly. “It took them three days to die.”

“Because he had refused to kill them, my father made him watch. This is what you’re asking me to negotiate with, Barabas.”

“This is exactly why we need you to negotiate.”

“I’m getting sick of you ordering me around on my own land.”

“Enough,” Curran said.

Barabas took a step back. “We’ll talk about this another time.”

Curran crouched by the sitting man. “What happened?”

“There was a compound five miles to the south,” the man said, his words ragged. “Some kind of religious group. Roland wanted the land. He didn’t say why. He offered to buy it, but they wouldn’t sell it to him. Something they told him must’ve pissed him off, because he ordered me to take my people and clear it out. He said he wanted them buried off the land, somewhere else. I told him I was a soldier. I wouldn’t order my people to butcher unarmed civilians.”

“And if Hugh told you to do it?” Curran asked.

The Iron Dog faced him, his eyes clear. “He wouldn’t.”

Yeah, right. “I find that hard to believe,” I said.

“I’m a soldier,” the Iron Dog said. “Not a Ripper. Soldiers fight other soldiers.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Julie said behind me. “When Hugh needed a massacre, he’d use the Rippers. Most of them are dead now.”

Don’t explode. Nothing good ever came from exploding.

I turned to her.

“The Iron Dogs have six cohorts,” Julie said. “The first five cohorts have four hundred and eighty soldiers per cohort, broken into six centuries of eighty soldiers each. The Sixth Cohort had two hundred and forty people and was known as the Rippers, the shock troops. Each cohort had a captain. Hibla was the captain of the Rippers. This man is Stoyan Iliev, captain of the First Cohort. He was the first captain Hugh recruited himself.”

Great. I’d rescued Hugh’s bestie.

Stoyan turned to me. “I was in the Swan Palace. I saw you kill Hibla. If you’re going to kill me, give me a sword first.”

“Settle down,” Derek told him. “You can’t hold a sword. You can’t even keep water down. She didn’t pull you off a cross so she could kill you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the Iron Dog said. “If it weren’t that, it would’ve been something else. Of the six cohorts, the Rippers are completely gone and the rest are at less than fifty percent of their capacity. Roland is purging the ranks. Anyone loyal to Hugh has been killed or run off, and the Legatus of the Golden Legion openly hunts people Roland exiles. If you’re not going to kill me, what are you going to do with me?”

Curran looked at me. “He’s yours. It’s your call.”

I sighed. “We’ll take you to the Guild medic. The magic is up and our medmage is good. You have twenty-four hours to get on your feet. Don’t be in the city when the sun rises tomorrow.”