Magic Tides (Kate Daniels: Wilmington Years #1)(24)

Thomas’ mouth turned into a hard, flat line.

“I’ve seen her kill a dragon,” Keelan told him in a confidential tone.

Thomas jerked, startled.

“Oh, it was glorious.” The werewolf raised his hand, drawing a wide arc across the sky. “The world was smoke and fire. The dragon spat flames like a jet of napalm to and fro. People died where they stood, and their bodies turned to ash. And she ran up its head and thrust two swords into the dragon’s eyes while her husband tore out its throat.”

Thank you, Keelan, for stabbing my last hope for anonymity through the heart. “You should talk less.”

Keelan winked at Thomas. “If anyone can get your boy, she is it. And he’ll be overjoyed that his dad is in one piece. Trust in the Consort. I do and I haven’t regretted it yet.”



GETTING across Cape Fear proved to be surprisingly easy because the ferry was now running. According to the captain, a juvenile Sargasso Sea kraken had come into the river, probably due to inexperience, and some fool had blown it clear out of the water, causing a feeding frenzy. Nobody knew how. Crazy what people got up to nowadays.

Thomas had given me detailed directions. I was to take Market Street heading northeast to Porter’s Neck, then make a right at the old Walgreens that now was half-pharmacy, half-apothecary, onto Porter’s Neck Road. Then I’d make another right onto Edgewater Club, then a left onto Bridge Road, and another left onto Siren Call once I got to Figure Eight Island. About 22 miles. Give or take 3 hours, with some delays built in. The sun had finally set, so it was around 8:30 pm or so. I should get there by midnight.

We parted ways. Keelan, Thomas, and the other two shapeshifters headed south. They would swing by their secondary HQ in Veteran’s Forest and pick up more “friends,” as Keelan put it, before heading to our place. I wished Keelan good luck, he somberly told me to “stay safe,” and I went east on Market Street.

According to the archival records, pre-Shift Market Street was a busy place, a typical small-southern-city kind of road. Hotels, auto parts stores, restaurants, little plaza strips, most buildings one story, maybe two, flanked by generous parking lots. Some of that was still there, but the landscape had changed. Buildings occurred in clumps, with wide killing zones around them in case something weird crawled out of the encroaching woods and decided to sample some two-legged cuisine. A lot of parking lots had fences.

I reached a Food Lion with a large parking lot defended by a guard in a tower. The place was probably about to close—most stores didn’t stay open after dark. There was a small restaurant adjacent to it, lit up by blue feylanterns. The sign on it said, “7 to 11.” A smaller sign offered breakfast all day. Perfect.

I rode into the parking lot, tied Cuddles to the rail put in front of the restaurant for that purpose, and walked in. The restaurant was tiny, only five tables, all empty. A fast-food style counter cut the kitchen off from the dining area. Above it hung pictures of the dishes with prices: eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns…

A middle-aged woman, with black, curly hair put away into a round bun and cool tint to her brown skin, came to the counter and gave me a friendly smile.

“What will it be?”

I put $50 worth of silver onto the counter. “Can I use your phone?”

She picked up the silver, reached below the counter, and set the phone onto it. “Got a long night ahead of you?”

How did she know? “Probably.”

She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

I tried the phone. Dial tone. Score.

I dialed Hugh’s number. The phone rang. And rang. And rang…

There was a click and Hugh’s voice said, “Yes?”

“It’s me.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Did you know the bone-breaking command can explode krakens?”

“Yes.”

What the hell. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Did you blow up a kraken?”

“Maybe.”

He laughed into the phone. “Is Wilmington still standing?”

“Last I checked.”

The woman returned, put a cup of coffee with creamer in front of me and a plate with a small apple Danish, smiled again, and went away.

I took a whiff of apple, cinnamon, and coffee and almost cried with happiness. I’d have to remember this place.

“I went to see Barrett.”

“Why?”

“Something came up.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“No.” I bit into my Danish, poured too much cream into my coffee, and took a big gulp. “I might have pretended to be one of your people.”

“Run that by me again?”

“I let Barrett think I was a former Iron Dog.”

He guffawed.

“Laugh it up, why don’t you?”

“Why?” Hugh managed finally.

“He ran a vampire at me at full speed and I forgot to flinch.”

“Aha. And why did you leave my stellar leadership?”

“Apparently I have a problem with authority.”

“That checks out. I’ll add you to the roll. Lennart or Daniels? Or make something up?”

“Make something up, please.”

I took another bite.

The humor drained from Hugh’s voice. “Barrett is only dangerous when he smiles and when he doesn’t.”