Magic Unchained (38 page)

Moving around behind her, so he was off the risers and thus not looming, and Mac was more or less out of sight, Sven took up his
I’ve got her back
position and tried not to picture Kevin Costner in
The
Bodyguard
, because gods knew he’d never admit to having watched it.

Like a good bodyguard, he scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where the biggest threat was going to come from. And he found Carlos staring daggers at him from the back of the room.

A pang went through him at the look in the
winikin
’s eyes, but he locked gazes for a long moment, then sent the other man a nod. Carlos grimaced and looked away, but Sven figured the message was clear enough. He had followed through with his promise to Carlos, and waited to get his sign. Cara’s father didn’t need to know that the sign hadn’t really mattered, though, because despite everything else, he just bloody well felt
right
when he was with Cara.

Even now, as she held up a hand and waited for the mutters and shuffles to subside, and he stood there knowing that they had a hell of a fight ahead of them, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

It was when they were apart that the doubts—and the visions of being somewhere else—crept in.

“Okay, I’d like to get started,” Cara said, pitching her voice to carry to the far corners of the room, where the radicals had gravitated—Carlos and a few of the old guard on one side, Sebastian and a dozen or so rebels on the other. Sven kept his eyes moving as she continued. “I know there have been some major rumors flying over the past couple of days. Some are true, some aren’t, and most are a mix of the two. I had thought about apologizing that I’m just now calling this meeting, but the thing is, I’m not sorry for the delay. We needed the time to figure out the facts, what we think they mean, and what we’re going to do about them.”

Sebastian called, “And by ‘we,’ do you mean you and the Nightkeepers’ king, or you and lover boy there?”
One of his buddies thumped him to shut up, but a couple of the others nodded.

Cara shot him a cool look. “Do you want to tell this, or should I?”

He snorted. “Spin away, boss. Go ahead and tell us how you sent Zane and Lora to live on a nice farm somewhere, like you’d tell a six-year-old when her dog bites someone and gets put down, or how you’re not fucking us over by hooking up with that one.” His chin jerk went in Sven’s direction. “And how it makes total sense for him to be in charge, even though the king said we could damn well lead ourselves, because you think that you might be able to use his magic, and that’s why the hellhound came back after you. Like that makes everything hunky-fucking-dory.”

Sven raised an eyebrow at the extent of the rumors. It seemed that there wouldn’t be much in the way of surprises, then. Just some clarification and—hopefully—redirection.

Nodding to Sebastian, her face set in falsely pleasant lines, Cara said, “If you’re finished?” When he grumbled and subsided, she swept the room with a look before clasping her hands at the small of her back in almost a parade rest. Sven could see that her fingers linked and held and turned white from the pressure. Her voice, though, stayed steady as she said, “Okay, then. Taking it from the top…”

Clearly and concisely, she led her people through the events of the past week, giving them the facts and interpretations, the caveats. She told them more than Sven would have, maybe even more than Dez had intended for her to reveal, but at this point it was probably the only way to go. Given the depths of the rumor mill,
whatever she left out would come back to bite her in the ass somehow.

Which meant Sven got far more play than he would’ve liked, and he had to fight not to squirm at times. She glossed over the sex and his push-pull of affection and alluded to their history only in passing, but any idiot could have filled in the gaps, and while a number of the
winikin
were pains in his ass, none of them were stupid.

He tried not to react as she built her case. Instead, he watched the crowd. And damned if he didn’t see faces smoothing out, then a nod here and there. It started in the middle of the room, where Natalie and JT sat at the intersection between the two cliques, and then edged outward in an almost imperceptible ripple, one that might’ve been invisible to anybody in the thick of things. Sven, though, was on the outside looking in, and he saw it.

Pride trickled through him. She had them. She fucking had them. Or most of them, anyway. As for the holdouts ringing the room… well, they were going to be the wild cards, weren’t they? He just hoped to hell the others would be enough to trump.

Finishing the recitation with a quick rundown of the evidence suggesting that the ancestors—and presumably the gods—had paired her and Sven against the odds and perhaps even the writs, she went on to say, “I won’t claim to be infallible—far from it. I should have handled things differently during the war games, I should have figured out what Zane was up to, and I should have insisted on handling his and Lora’s arrests differently. But I’m determined to learn from my mistakes and put us in the absolute best position to survive. To do that, I need to be partnered up with Sven, and I need your support.”

This time when she paused, there was some shuffling and sidelong looks, but nobody—not even Sebastian—spoke out.

She waited a beat, then said, “Jox put me in charge of you without a vote, and there’s no vote mandated by writ or tradition, but I think we need one, because these are your lives we’re talking about. These are all of our lives. But first… questions?”

For a three-count, the loudest sound in the room was Mac’s breathing. Sven had his eye on Sebastian and his cronies, so it was a surprise when the first question came from the other side of the room. “The
nahwal
didn’t specifically say that you and the mage should be lovers, and a similar bond could be achieved by your taking back the
aj winikin
mark. Wouldn’t that be a better way to show your loyalty?”

It was Carlos.

Sven stiffened and Mac gave a low growl, responding to his sudden flash of ire. Cara, though, showed no outward response. She just said, “Over the past four years, the magi have had to rely on their instincts when the prophecies and magic have failed. I may not have magic of my own, but I have good instincts, and they’re telling me that this is right and good. I don’t need to take the
aj winikin
to prove anything to anyone, except maybe you.” Her voice cooled. “You forced the servant’s mark on me once before. You’re not going to do it again.”

That got a bunch of nods from the rebel side of the room, but Sven got an
uh-oh
feeling when he saw a few of the other, older
winikin
shifting in their seats.

“There’s no evidence that you’re supposed to be sleeping with him, is there?” Carlos persisted.

She lifted her chin and met his eyes, but she was talking
to all of them when she said, “I’m not sleeping with Sven because of the
nahwal
or the gods. I’m sleeping with him because I’ve wanted to be with him for a long time now, but only recently became convinced that our being together will in no way be a detriment to the
winikin
or the war. And I’m sleeping with him because when I was strapped to that altar with the water over my head, he was the person I thought about, the one I wanted to see.”

Sven’s throat lumped as, for the first time since the meeting began, she turned to look at him. And for a moment her eyes were those of the woman he’d woken up with, the one he’d made morning love to. He wanted to tell her what it meant to hear her say that, wanted to give her something in return, but couldn’t.

Her eyes warmed, though, as if he had, and she turned back to the crowd and said simply, “Then there he was. He was there for me when nobody else was.” Her eyes went to Carlos. “If you want to condemn me for putting myself first in this, then that’s certainly your right. But I think you’re wrong. The other magi have shown that there’s room for love and family in their society. I think the same should be true for ours.”

She paused a beat, and then swept the crowd. “Next?”

There was a quiet moment—Sven thought a few people in the middle of the room were teetering on the brink of applause but didn’t dare try it—and then JT said, “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Fire away.”

He asked about the First Father’s resurrection—Sven had a feeling Cara had planted the question, and gave her points for anticipating the need—and that turned things away from their relationship. She fielded two
more questions along those lines, ignored a third that tried to circle back around to the bedroom, and went into more detail about the hellhound’s second appearance and what it might—or might not—mean.

And, watching her cool competence and grace under fire, Sven’s brain chewed on an old refrain:
I don’t deserve her
. But this time it wasn’t because of his restlessness or the knowledge that he couldn’t give her what she needed. Instead, it was because she flat-out awed the shit out of him. She was tough, edgy, and sexy as hell, but with an inner vulnerability that she didn’t mind showing. Yet at other times, she could be an elemental force, immovable and yet flexible, facing down her father on one side and kindling hope on the other. And she did it all without magic, without having been raised into the belief that she was somehow special, better than everyone around her. She did it simply by being her.

Nope, Sven thought with sudden clarity, he didn’t deserve her… but he was damn well going to try to live up to her for the next three—

Dizziness slapped through him with the suddenness of a squall, nearly dragging him to his knees. He stayed on his feet by force of will, not wanting to embarrass either of them by passing the hell out in the middle of her speech, but his vision blurred and brightened, and suddenly he wasn’t in the hall anymore; he was in a rain forest, racing along a narrow game trail with his nose to the ground.
Searching, searching. Hot sun. Cool shade. Thirsty but can’t stop now. So close, but where?
He glimpsed a cave mouth, heard the sound of water inside, caught the whisper of a hated scent, and felt a low growl rumble in his chest.
Enemy!

Adrenaline chased away the vision. The rain forest
fragmented, disappeared, and then he was back in the hall. He was still on his feet, thank the gods, and the only one staring at him was Mac. His familiar’s ears were plastered forward, his eyes intent, but he stayed silent.

Sven didn’t know what to make of that. Hell, he didn’t know what to make of any of it. If this was his subconscious telling him to move on, it was going to have to work harder than that, because he was staying put, damn it.

Gritting his teeth, he refocused on Cara.

She seemed to be wrapping things up. “We can’t pretend the Nightkeepers don’t exist, or that we can do this without them. That’s just dumb. We need to work with them, and yes, we need to support them while they do the things we can’t. But we have what they lack, what they need, and that’s the strength of numbers. So I’ll ask you now to work with me and Sven, and with the Nightkeepers, while we all do our absolute damnedest to pull this plane through the end-time and into a new cosmic cycle.”

Pausing, she looked around, then pointed to the chair JT was sitting in. “From there to the window is the center line. If you agree to follow Sven and me, stand on that side.” She indicated the traditionalists’ side of the room. “If you refuse, take the other side.” She waved to where the rebels sat. “I’ll give you a ten-count. When I hit ten, that’s the vote.”

She started with “one” and there was a generalized shuffle. By “three” the pattern was clear: The middle of the room was drifting to the “yes” side, the outskirts to the “no.” On “five” it looked like a fifty-fifty split, and Sven’s gut knotted with a rising tide of frustrated anger.

“Six,” Cara said, her face starting to go grim. “Sev—”

“Hold it,” Sven snapped. “Just hold it right there.” She stopped the count and turned to him with a warning head shake, but he wasn’t having it, wasn’t having any of it. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I’ve got something to say.”

He halfway expected the
winikin
to shout him down or tell him he was out of line. It was a tribute to Cara’s impassioned speech, he supposed, that they didn’t. Or maybe they were waiting to see what she did. A test of allegiance.

She gave him a long look, as if trying to decide whether he was going to help or hurt her case, but then nodded. “You’re out of order, but I’ll allow it. You’re just as much a part of this as I am.” And with that he thought she might have lost some ground, which meant he damn well better make it up, and then some.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the risers with Mac right behind him, conscious of the way all eyes had to zoom up to keep him in range, seeming to halo him with a big old neon sign that said,
He’s not one of us
.

No, he wasn’t. But he thought he could help them if they would just give him a chance.
Man up,
he told himself.
Get this right. She deserves better than your usual best
. Starting now.

Problem was, he saw only one way to tip the scales. And it was going to be a hell of a risk.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I know some of you are pretty pissed at me right now, at least a couple of you with good reason.” He sent a nod toward the two guys who’d been hurt in the fight; one looked startled, the other thoughtful. “And what I’m about to say probably isn’t going to win me any points from the rest of you… but are you out of your fucking minds?”

That got him a stirring of the crowd, a few scowls, and Cara’s low warning of, “Bad idea.”

Maybe it was. But it was the only one he had. “Look, I know you’re probably saying, ‘Who the hell does he think he is, talking to us like that?’ But that’s the thing—I don’t see
winikin
or magi; I never did. I see people. And as one person to a bunch of others, I’m asking whether you’re out of your fucking minds. We have a chance to do something good here, something special. Fuck, we’ve got the opportunity—hell, the mandate—to save the godsdamned world here, and you’re dicking around over semantics?”