My aunt, the downer.

“Binding a child of the Koorgahn. A dangerous game you’re playing, squirrel.”

“I was trying to save her. She was dying of loupism.”

“Yes, they are susceptible. Wolves, horses, and birds of prey, those are her things. That’s how they came to battle, riding their horses, guarded by their birds of prey and their wolves. Your great-grandfather fought a bloody war for thirty years just to keep the people of Koorgahn out of our valley as they were sweeping west. How ironic that you would find one in this age and in this place, yet have no idea how to use her.”

“I don’t want to use her. She is my kid.”

Erra sighed. “We’ll talk about this and what happened today later. Now I will go and see if your ‘kid’ knows the extent of her powers.”

“Good luck with that. I can’t even get her to clean her room.”

I turned and went upstairs. I locked the bedroom door and walked into the bathroom. Curran was already in the shower.

I stripped my clothes off and went in there with him.

He stared at my body. I looked like a gang of street thugs with steel-toed boots had worked me over. I stepped under the water and hugged him.

He hugged me back.

• • •

SOMETHING TOUCHED MY ear. I shrugged off sleep long enough to open my eyes and saw Curran holding the phone. For me. Ugh.

“Yes?” I said into the phone.

“What do you need?” Saiman asked.

Well, he didn’t last long. “Let me make you a list . . .”

“Do spare me the smartass comments. What do you need me to do?”

“A way to kill or contain my father. Failing that, I need a record of what he wrote on my skin.”

“Your office in two hours.”

He hung up. I opened my eyes and looked at Curran. “What time is it?”

“Six o’clock.”

“You let me sleep for four hours straight?” I’d stay up all night.

“Sixteen,” he said. “It’s six in the morning. You needed it.”

After the shower I’d crashed. The thing with my aunt had taken a lot out of me, and the thing with Andrea’s baby didn’t help either. Sooner or later, you had to pay the piper. I dimly recalled waking up at some point, because I had dreamed Dali died and Jim wouldn’t let me go to her funeral, but exhaustion had soon dragged me back under.

“Did you have dinner last night?”

“Yes. The kids and I went to George and Eduardo’s,” he said. “Mahon’s bear guards arrived with honey muffins and roasted deer and we all ate ourselves into a coma.”

“That’s nice.” I hugged my pillow. “Will you wake me up in an hour?”

He picked me up and stood me upright on my feet. I punched him in the neck. Not very hard and not very fast. I missed.

“The medmage is here.”

“I don’t need a medmage.” I yawned.

He picked me up, carried me into the bathroom, and set me in front of the mirror. I had acquired a lovely reddish-purple color. Both of my shoulders had turned raspberry red. The edges of my wounds were puffy. Irene must’ve had something nasty on her blades, or maybe Mishmar wasn’t the most sterile environment to get cut in. My left hip, my knees—and probably my back, judging by the lake of pain that pulled in my trapezius muscles—were a deep blue, too.

“My impersonation of a peacock is proceeding as planned.”

“Not funny.” Curran’s expression could’ve stopped a raging bear in his tracks.

I had tried to seduce him after the shower but he wasn’t having any of it. He packed me into the bed, and I was making some sort of smartass quip about his new powers post-saber-tooth-devouring, and then there was nothing. Here’s hoping I didn’t fall asleep in mid-sentence.

Yep, I probably did.

In fact, I could totally sleep more. I could lie down on this nice cold floor and nap. I yawned again.

“Curran, where are you going?”

“To make breakfast.”

Sleep evaporated. My eyes snapped open. If I didn’t get downstairs in the next ten minutes, he’d smoke out the kitchen again with bacon.

I made it down in time to save the bacon from a terrible fate. Curran had brought in Nellie Kerning, one of the medmages the Guild frequently hired. She had set up camp at our dining room table. She was short, plump, and in her early fifties. She also took no prisoners, which was why Curran must’ve called her in the first place.

“Strip.”

I pulled off most of my clothes, leaving on my sports bra and underwear. A woman had to have limits. Nellie examined me.

I caught Curran giving me an interested look. Was he actually . . . Yep, he was checking me out. Yeah, where were you last night, buddy? I would’ve stayed awake . . . Well, no. Probably not.

“Did you play tag with a rock troll?” Nellie asked.

“No.” My aunt played tennis with me against the walls. But explaining that would cramp my style.

Where was my aunt?

Nellie sighed. “Why does everyone have to be a hard case? Is it in your job description?”

“Yes. Also I know a were–honey badger you would really like.”

“Mm-hm. Let’s see if we can salvage this mess.”

She was fifteen minutes into the chant when Andrea and Raphael walked through the door, followed by Robert.

“Would it kill you to knock?” I asked.

“Would it kill you to lock your door?” Andrea marched over to me and handed Baby B over. “Here, hold my kid.”

Oh boy. I took Baby B. She looked at me and yawned.

Raphael very carefully avoided looking at undressed me and went into the kitchen.

“First, Dali survived, so you can stop freaking out,” Andrea said. “And don’t get any ideas about things being awkward between us because of what happened. Things are not awkward.”

“Things are awkward,” Robert said. “Your father ordered a hit on the heir of Clan Bouda, and his assassin injured the Consort.”

“Done,” Nellie said. “I’ll bill you.”

I waited until she left, gave the baby back to Andrea, and pulled on my T-shirt and my shorts.

“Is she recovering okay?” I asked.

“I’m forbidden to answer any questions,” Robert said.

“What do you mean, forbidden?” Curran asked. The tone of his voice wasn’t friendly.