Ilona Andrews - Magic Binds

“Your move,” he said, his voice rough.

I kissed his lips, moved down and kissed that chest, stroking him, sliding my hand lower, over the ridges of his abs, down to the hard length of him in his jeans. He drew a sharp breath. I unzipped him and slid my hand up and down his shaft. He groaned, straining, trying to stay where he was.

Any more and it would be torture for us both.

I hopped off of him and pulled off my jeans. When I was done, he grabbed me, already naked and ready to go. His hand caught my hair. His body caged mine. I wrapped my legs around him. I had no patience left. He pushed my legs off him and slid down. His mouth closed on me, his tongue in the perfect spot. Each lick, each touch coaxed pleasure out of my body. He kept going, faster and faster, insistent, the wet heat growing hotter until the climax burst through me. I cried out and forgot about everything as waves of bliss shook me. He was on top of me, thrusting, long and hard, all of him focused on me, all of him mine alone. We were making love and when the second burst of pleasure came, we shared it.

He was right about the danger. I had no idea.

MY EYES SNAPPED open. A noise came from the street, the very particular noise of claws scraping brick outside my window. Next to me Curran lay still, his eyes open. My head was on his chest, his right arm around me.

A clawed hand grabbed the windowsill and a furry, thin creature landed on it and hunched over, its face a nightmarish blend of human and rodent.

Last time a vampire, this time a wererat. There was no peace to be had in my apartment.

The wererat inclined his head. “Former Beassssht Lord. Former Consssshort.”

I knew that voice. I’d met him before; he was Robert’s favorite surveillance agent.

“Hello, Jardin,” Curran said, his voice calm.

“The former Conssshort’s father is away from hisssh bassshe. When he returnssh, he will find only asshess.”

“Jim burned my father’s base?”

Jardin nodded. “You can shee the glow in the easssht.”

Oh, Jim. I knew why he did it. Dali was hurt. She was his world. He wanted to retaliate, the Pack expected him to retaliate, because that’s what a strong shapeshifter leader would do, and so he retaliated. Curran might have done the same.

“I’m to tell you that war issh coming. Thesshe are dangeroush timesh. Friendsh mussht look out for each other if all are to shhhurvive.”

“We heard your message,” Curran said.

Jardin nodded and leapt off the windowsill into the night.

“Robert is scared,” I said.

Curran nodded, his hand stroking my shoulder. “There were probably heavy losses.”

“Jim isn’t going to come to us, is he?”

“No.”

“We still have to protect the Pack. It’s on the land we claimed.”

“Can you block his magic?” Curran asked.

“Erra says I can. I won’t know for sure until I try.”

“Do you trust your aunt?”

I turned over and looked at him. “There are certain moral principles that rule my aunt. They are what her childhood was built on. Honor and love your parents. Guard the land you claim. Have children, teach them, and guide them so the family may live on. My father trampled all of them like a runaway bulldozer. She will make him pay for it. I don’t think she’ll betray us, but if she does, we’ll deal with it.”

“But is she making you stronger?”

“She is. But magic alone won’t be enough, Curran.”

“We’ll need an army,” he said.

“YOU NEED AN army.” My aunt paced back and forth in my kitchen.

It was morning and I was on my first cup of coffee. My head throbbed.

“How can you not have a throne room?” Erra peered at me. “Where do you receive supplicants?”

“Here, or at the office.” I walked over to the counter to pour myself another cup of coffee. Curran had left on a morning run through the woods. He said he needed to burn off some energy after last night. All I wanted to do after last night was sleep for twenty-four hours straight. Where the hell he got his energy I didn’t know, but I sure would’ve loved to have some of it.

Julie sat at the table, watching my aunt with a sour expression on her face, and sipped her coffee.

“Is the office that place where you did a ridiculous dance?”

“Yes.”

“And you have no other dwelling? No palace, no fortress?”

“No.”

“You make me want to stab you.”

“I have that effect on many people.”

“How is it you’re still alive?”

“I’m hard to kill.” I drank my coffee.

“Not that hard.”

“You couldn’t do it.”

“I didn’t really try.”

I looked at her from above the brim of my cup. “You tried. I was there.”

Julie grimaced.

“What’s wrong with you this morning?”

“She doesn’t like my banner.”

Why me? Why? I counted to five in my head.

Curran walked through the kitchen door. “What’s wrong with the banner?”

“It’s blue,” Julie said.

“Why is it blue?” my aunt demanded.

“Because it’s the color of human magic,” Julie said.

“It’s the color of every human mage out there,” Erra snapped. “It’s not fit.”

I raised my hands. “I don’t care about the banner.”

My aunt reached over and smacked me upside the head. Magic exploded against my skull.

“If you do that again, I will drop your knife into a manhole for a few days.”

“Don’t make empty threats,” Erra said. “You won’t survive the next few days without me. When you want to threaten someone, you must mean it.”

“I mean it.”

“You remind me of me.” Erra groaned. “You are the punishment for all my transgressions.”

I smiled at her.

“Always remember you are a queen,” Erra ground out. “Banners are important. They are symbols. When a scared child barely old enough to hold his weapon comes to a field of battle to raise his spear for you, your banner will be the first thing he sees—and the last, as he lies dying, gazing at the sky. Your banner tells him what he is dying for.”

“Well, what banner should I have?”

“You are the only living female within our bloodline. You would inherit In-Shinar from me as I inherited it from my mother, while your father would hold Im-Shinar. The oldest female of our blood always holds In-Shinar and flies its green banner. It is your right.”

“Nobody knows what Shinar is,” Julie said.

“Her father does.”

“Will her father recognize the banner?” Curran said.

“Yes,” Erra said. “He will.”

My father would see the banner of his own family on the other side of the battlefield. It would hammer home the point: he was fighting a civil war.

“Let’s split it,” I said. “Green for Shinar and blue for Atlanta.”

“Green with a blue stripe,” my aunt said.

“Fine,” Julie grumbled.

“Go across the street,” Curran told Julie. “George’s cousin owns a textile shop. See what they can do for us. We need large banners. A lot of large banners.”

“Finally,” Erra said. “Someone who understands. Bring me samples, child. The shade of green must be exact.”

Julie got up, sighed to let us know she was suffering, and left the room.

“This still doesn’t solve the problem of our not having an army,” I said.

“What are Roland’s typical tactics?” Curran asked.

Erra sighed. “He will make a fist out of his troops and punch your Pack fortress with it. Straight-on assault with overwhelming force. Im has been taught tactics and strategy, but he has no interest in it. That’s why he relies on others to lead his armies and only assists when he has to.”