Magic Claims by Ilona Andrews

“It’s not just your enemies you have to worry about,” Erra said.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“One of the men I loved had a war dog,” she said. “He was this huge drooling, farting, foul-smelling beast, bred for combat. Ugh, I hated that dog. I never hurt him, but I didn’t want him near me, so I would stomp and shoo him when he got near. A surprisingly cowardly dog. He’d gone up against lions and men in battle, but he’d see me and run.”

A six-foot-six woman built like an Olympic athlete wearing full armor and filled with roiling, terrifying magic. I’d run away too if she stomped at me.

“Is there a point to this story or did you just want to share your disturbing hobby of tormenting loyal dogs?”

Erra grimaced. “You take great advantage of my love for you. Anyway, the dog was only afraid of two things: me and thunder. Every time lightning split the sky, I would find him shivering by my bed and no matter how much I stomped and yelled, he wouldn’t leave. He just sat there, shaking, until the storm passed and then he’d slink away.”

“Aha.”

“I finally asked Leo why the dog did that, and he told me that I was the most frightening creature the dog knew. When the thunder came, he ran to me because I was so terrifying, I would scare away the thunder and keep him safe.”

I laughed.

“Listen to me, you insolent brat! People are the same. Whether you like it or not, you married a First.”

My laughter died.

“And yes, I know that your love is the greatest love there ever was under the sky and he left his Pack for you, but he took the reins of power when he was fifteen. He grew up being the Beast Lord. It wasn’t just his identity; it has shaped his way of thinking. And I don’t need to tell you that his successor isn’t faring well.”

No, she didn’t need to tell me that. We’ve been hearing rumblings. Nothing concrete, just hints that things weren’t going as well as they could be.

“Eventually things will fall apart in Atlanta. Perhaps this year, perhaps in five years, but in the end the Pack will destabilize. When that happens, the shapeshifters will panic. They will run from that thunder to the scariest person they know, expecting that he will make them safe. Do you think he’ll be able to turn them away?”

The swimmer turned toward the beach and slid through the ocean, devouring the distance in fast, measured strokes.

“I don’t know,” I told her.

“Your face tells me that you do know.” Erra fixed me with her stare again. “And even if he somehow decided to say no, you would say yes. All it would take is one vulnerable, helpless person with a sob story and you’ll trip over your feet to take them under your wing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m retired.”

“You need territory, a defensible base large enough to house many people, money, powerful allies, and connections to the local government to make it all work. Do you have any of those things?”

“No,” I squeezed out.

“Then you should get busy, shouldn’t you?”

“Thank you, dear aunt, for once again listing all of my failures.”

“I’m trying to keep you alive. If you want someone to tell you how special and wonderful you are, go see your father. He wants you to fail so you’ll be forced to run to him and beg for his wisdom.”

“What happened to the dog?” I asked.

“He sired many puppies and lived to a ripe old age. I kept a pillow by my bed, and I would drape a special blanket over him when the storms came. I buried both the pillow and the blanket with him when he died, so he wouldn’t be scared in the afterlife. Give your husband and your son my love and get to work.”

The fire went out.

I didn’t see Julie. Again. She used to fire call every couple of weeks, and then, about two years ago, the fire calls stopped. We still talked on the phone, but a long time had passed since I’d seen her. Too long.

Curran came out of the ocean, the hard muscles across his powerful frame slick with water. Oh wow.

My husband started across the sand toward me. At night he swam naked, but since it was morning, he wore blue swimming trunks and somehow that made him even hotter. But it wasn’t his body that pulled me in, although it didn’t hurt.

Looking into Curran’s eyes was like coming face to face with an apex predator. There was steel will there, raw power, and confidence bordering on arrogance to back it up, but most of all there was love when he looked at me. Erra was right. He never stopped being the Beast Lord. He was the man who could dominate thousands of shapeshifters with a single look, and he was also the man who stayed up all night with a child who’d eaten some poisonous herbs in the forest and spent twenty-four hours throwing them up. One couldn’t be separated from another. They were all aspects of Curran, and I loved all of him.

The Curran I knew was done with packs and shapeshifter hierarchy. A few years ago, Mahon came to him with this harebrained proposal of starting another Pack several states over, and Curran had shot him down flat. When Mahon demanded to know who would keep our family safe, Curran did his alpha stare and informed him that he was all the safety we needed. And yet if the Pack came to him now, desperate for his help, I wasn’t sure what he would do.

Try as you might, you cannot change who you are. A son of Jushur, my father’s former spymaster, told me this two months ago when I ran into him at the Farm. I didn’t want to change who Curran was.