Magic Shifts - Page 23/143

“So glad you graced us with your presence,” Bob said. “Came to slum with us mere mortals?”

Bob and I never had a problem. Juke and I had a problem, because I enjoyed jerking her chain, but Bob and I always leveled. Where was he going with this? I leaned back. “You’d have to clean the place up a bit for it be a slum, Bob.”

Bob narrowed his eyes. “I know what you’ve been doing. I know your Pack conned enough mercs into selling you their shares so you’d control a third of this Guild. I know you’re thinking of buying those shares.”

Jim would be overjoyed to hear that someone had been talking to the Guild behind his back. That wouldn’t increase his paranoia. Not at all.

Bob was building up steam. “So that’s it, huh? You thought you’d come here, throw your weight around, and save us. Whip us into shape. I’ve got news for you.” He looked around dramatically. “Nobody’s whipping us. There won’t be any bowing or scraping.”

Curran shrugged. “Okay. Fine by me.”

Bob glowered. “I don’t give a fuck if you think that’s fine or not. I’m telling you how it’s going to be.”

Bob, you sad, sorry sonovabitch. If I didn’t steer this away from Curran, he would redecorate the place with the Four Horsemen’s guts.

I grinned. When in doubt, piss them off with humor.

“Something funny, Daniels?” Juke asked me.

“Just enjoying watching your boss here dig the hole deeper.” I nodded at Bob. “Keep going, Bob. Don’t hold back. Share your feelings with the group. Get it all out.”

Mercs at the tables chuckled.

Bob growled. That’s right, concentrate on me . . .

“You used to be somebody, Lennart.”

Damn it. He was asking for his head to be bashed in, and if he said too much more, I would do it myself.

He kept going. “I’ve got news for you: you’re a nobody.”

Really? A nobody?

Bob squared his shoulders. “We’ll throw you out on your ass . . .”

A deep inhuman sound rolled through the Guild, the sound of a predator’s voice, humorless and ice-cold, and I realized it was Curran laughing. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat.

The Guild Hall went completely silent. Oh no.

Curran studied Bob Carver, as if he hadn’t really seen him before this moment and now he’d finally noticed Bob existed and decided to dedicate his complete attention to that fact. His eyes sparked with gold, his gaze pinning Bob in place. I knew the weight of that stare. It was like looking straight into the jungle’s hungry maw. It knew no mercy and no reason. It only knew that it was hunter and you were prey. Blood rushed to your limbs, your breathing sped up, and your thoughts fractured and melted into your brain until only two options remained: fight or flight. Picking one was torture.

Bob paled. He stepped back, almost in spite of himself, falling into a familiar defensive stance, half-turned toward Curran, his hands raised. All of his bluster faded. Suddenly everyone knew who the baddest monster in the room was and nobody wanted to be his target.

Curran pushed off from the desk, his movement smooth and measured. His eyes were like two shining moons. His voice had a deep undercurrent of a snarl. “So you want to throw me out on my ass?”

Bob swallowed.

“There aren’t enough people here, Bob. You need to get reinforcements. Go ahead.” He smiled, baring his teeth, a sharp carnivore grin. “I’ll wait.”

People were slowly reaching for their weapons. The mercs had leaned forward, their weight barely on their chairs. Any loud noise and they’d run.

In the quiet, Curran’s voice rolled through the Guild Hall. “When I came here today, I hadn’t decided what I was going to do. Thank you. You helped me to reach a decision. You chose to start something here today. When it’s over, you will come to me and you will ask me to take charge of you.”

I had to give it to Bob Carver. He managed enough willpower to open his mouth. And then his brain must’ve kicked in, because he clamped it shut.

Curran turned to me. “Kate? Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then we’re done for now.”

We walked out. Nobody said a word.

•   •   •

IT TOOK US fourteen minutes to chant the Jeep into action. Cars with enchanted engines ran during magic waves, but they made enough noise to make even metalhead teenagers beg to turn the volume down. The Jeep’s cab had been isolated against noise, but we still had to raise our voices to be heard.