Home > Magic Rises (Kate Daniels #6)(68)

Magic Rises (Kate Daniels #6)(68)
Author: Ilona Andrews

Oh, give me a break.

"We all must make sacrifices. Hunting with my mate is just one of the things I can't do."

The way he said it, with deep profound regret, stabbed me straight in the chest.

"Perhaps she could become a shapeshifter?"

"She is immune," Curran said.

Lorelei inhaled sharply. "So you gave up half of your life for her? I'm so sorry. What if her children are born human?"

You bitch.

"Then I will deal with it." He sounded cold like a glacier.

My chest hurt. The world gained a slight red tint. I concentrated on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

"I shouldn't have mentioned it. It's just that she's so much more fragile than we are. Humans die of disease. They're weaker and easily hurt. If her children are born human, they would inherit her weakness . . . You shouldn't have to give up your . . . I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

Exhale. Inhale.

"I appreciate your kindness. It's about time for us to go back," Curran said. "I will be missed."

Exhale.

"Of course."

A door thumped closed. Hugh shook his head. "I wasn't sure before, but now I know-the man is an idiot."

The pain sat in my chest, hot and solid. "Don't say it."

"He's a man of limited vision, Kate. All he cares about is the immediate: she's telling him that you can't hunt with him, you don't grow fur, and he isn't defending you. Sweet gods, your children might be human. The horror. He hasn't even considered what it means to have you on his side long-term. You handed him a priceless red diamond and he's reaching for glass beads because they are bigger and flashier."

"It's none of your business." This was it. This was his angle. Separate me from Curran and present himself as a better alternative. Hugh was playing me. I was walking along the edge of a cliff and needed to be sharp or I'd plunge down, but the red mist in my head was making it hard to concentrate.

"There are dozens of girls like Lorelei. They think they are special because they were born shapeshifters and they are cute and spoiled. They expect the world to bend for them." Hugh pointed toward the hall. "I can go in there right now, ask for one, and by morning I'll have ten just like her. You are special, Kate. You were born special, and then you passed through Voron's crucible, and you've excelled. Curran can't see it. There is an old word for it: unworthy."

"Will you be quiet?" I ground out.

He kept talking, never raising his voice, his tone reasonable but insistent. "I work with shapeshifters. I know them. I have them in my order. They don't think like us. They like to pretend they do, but their physiology is simply too different. They don't experience complex emotions, they experience urges. It's a cold, hard fact. Shapeshifters are ruled by instincts and needs: the urge to survive, to eat, and to produce offspring. Everything they do is dictated by animalistic thinking: they feel fear and it drives them into forming packs; they're driven to procreate and so they become aggressive toward their competition in an effort to pass on their genes; they make children-"

Maddie's mother flashed before me. "They love their children! They defend them to the end."

"So do cheetahs and wolf spiders. But expecting compassion or complex emotions from them would be foolish. It's a survival instinct, Kate. When a human mother loses a child, it's a life-breaking tragedy. When a shapeshifter child turns loup, they grieve and weep for a month or so, and then they get to work on a replacement."

Hugh raised his hands in front of him about a foot apart, palms facing each other. "They have tunnel vision and they live in the moment. Right now Curran's instincts are telling him you are a problem. Being with you is too complicated. You don't fit neatly into the structure of his world, and others are questioning his choice. You are a source of friction and now he's found a more suitable alternative."

I didn't want to hear any more. I pushed from the wall, but he blocked my way.

"Move."

"Ask yourself if you will be content living your life in his shadow. You know you were meant for greater things. Deep down he knows this, too. He knows he can't hold you or he would've begged you to marry him. When a man wants to share his life with a woman, he offers her everything."

"Move." If he didn't, I would move him.

"You need to blow off some steam. I have an exercise yard full of swords. Spar with me."

"No."

"If you're too scared to try, just say you're scared, and we'll come back to it when you grow a backbone."

Voron. That was what Voron used to say to me. He would critique my fights, he would batter me in practice, and when I came up short, he'd reprimand me. "Do better" was bad. "Sloppy" was worse. But nothing compared to "Say you're scared." There was no worse sin than to not try because you couldn't scrape together enough courage.

The anger that had simmered boiled over. The ice cage cracked. I was so done. He wanted a fight, I would give him a f**king fight. "Fine. Lead the way."

Chapter 15

I followed Hugh down the stairs. We emerged into the hallway and I nearly walked into George. She saw Hugh. Her smart eyes narrowed. "Hey, Kate."

"Hey."

"Where you going?"

"Out for a little exercise."

George turned. "I'll come with you."

"Suit yourself."

We walked through the hallways to a door. Hugh pushed it open and we emerged into the inner yard. Six large racks of weapons greeted me, spaced in a crescent along the nearest wall. Swords, axes, spears. He must've taken time to prepare. It wouldn't help him.

I strolled along the racks. I recognized a few Japanese blades, but most were European, bastard swords, rapiers, sabers. An ancient falcata waited by the Greek kopis, a Roman gladius rested next to a hand-and-a-half, and a German messer next to its descendant, the saber. Falchions, claymores, tactical blades, every single one of them not only functional but beautiful, a kind of weapon that was a tool of war and a piece of art. Voron would've loved this. It had to be Hugh's personal collection. It was beautiful, as long as one ignored the man in the cage slowly dying of thirst in the corner.

I glanced up. Christopher was watching us through the bars with haunted eyes. I had meant to bring him water this morning.

Hugh stalked on the other side, watching me.

"Kate," George said. "What are you planning to do?"

"We're planning to spar," Hugh told her. "Just a friendly competition."

"This is a really bad idea," George said.

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