Blood Heir (Aurelia Ryder, #1)(87)

“Mr. Gaunt and I are old friends,” Ascanio purred.

“You don’t have friends, Ascanio,” Derek said. “You have people who are useful to you and people who are not.”

“Awww. You’re trying to hurt my feelings.” A ruby light rolled over Ascanio’s irises. “And I was so looking forward to our reunion.”

Derek raised his hand and flicked his fingers. Five shapeshifters materialized from the buildings on the right, three men and two women. Wolves, all of them, except Zahar, who perched on the heap of rubble directly behind us. Our eyes met, and he winked at me. With Derek, that made six against Ascanio’s nine.

“You’re outnumbered,” Derek said.

Ascanio laughed. “You haven’t changed.”

The two groups fanned out behind their leaders, each shapeshifter sizing up their opponents and picking out targets. This was now bigger than the two of them. If they fought, it would be a bloodbath.

“Walk away, both of you,” I said. “This accomplishes nothing. What are you hoping to win?”

“This isn’t about winning,” Ascanio said. His face took on a savage edge. A deranged light played in his eyes, the bouda crazy spilling out. “You should have stayed gone.”

Derek looked impassive, as if he were attending a boring lecture and couldn’t wait for it to be over.

No intelligent life on either side. I tried again. “You do this, and the Pack goes to war.”

“Cherry,” Ascanio said. “Remove the knight and keep her safe.”

A larger female bouda on the right stepped toward me.

Right. “Cherry, I am a Knight of the Order. Put your hands on me, and you’ll be hauling rocks for weeks.”

Cherry halted, unsure. The Pack was a big believer in redemption through hard labor.

I turned to Ascanio. “If you give them an illegal order, they will still be punished. Your authority won’t shield them. Is that the kind of beta you are?”

“This doesn’t concern you,” Ascanio snapped. “Stay out of Pack business, human.”

The front door of my house burst open, and Namtur stormed out in all his tunic and sandals glory. “What is the meaning of this?”

Behind him Marten snuck out onto the porch and gave me a little wave.

I slapped my hand over my face. Why, Fate? Why? What did I do?

The shapeshifters froze, momentarily perplexed by the appearance of an indignant old man in their midst. Ascanio blinked. Derek raised his eyebrows.

Namtur pointed at the two boudas standing too close to my house. “You there! Get off this land.”

One of the boudas cackled.

“Great Uncle,” I growled.

He stabbed his finger at me. “You! You come over here. It is unseemly! It is beneath you to brawl in the street.”

Ascanio shook his head. “Somebody, pick up grandpa and put him back in the house before he gets hurt.”

Namtur’s eyes bulged.

“Uh oh,” Marten said.

“Insolent worm,” the Royal Assassin hissed. “I’ll skin you, weakling, and wear shoes made of your mangy pelt.”

Derek looked at me. “Interesting relatives you have.”

Ascanio pivoted to Namtur. “Mangy?”

Of all the things he could have taken offense to.

“Yes, carrion-eater. Slink away. It’s what your kind does best.”

Ascanio sighed and waved his hand. The female bouda on his left started toward Namtur.

Namtur smiled. There was no warmth in it.

“No killing!” I called out. “No—”

Namtur bent his right leg and raised it up, resting his ankle on his left leg, toes flexed out. His left arm came up to his chest, bent at the elbow. His right elbow rested on his left wrist, the forearm pointing straight up, his palm parallel to the ground, fingers pointing at the female bouda. Python’s coil.

Well, it could’ve been worse.

The female bouda covered the last six feet and reached for him.

Magic struck out of Namtur in a purple cloud filled with the coils of a phantom serpent. It splayed through the street, like a blast wave, and vanished. Translucent purple chains gripped every shapeshifter, locking them in place. The top ring of the chain clamped their mouths, gagging them.

The shapeshifters strained. Muscles bulged. Faces turned red. Nobody moved. Ascanio’s eyes burned with murderous fire. If looks could kill, Namtur would have two smoking holes in his head.

“Ooh,” Marten said. “You could steal all their things.”

Namtur smiled at the child. “I told you, there is no thief in this world equal to me.”

My life was a circus. A circus full of thieves, and stupid shapeshifters, and small children executing evasive maneuvers.

“How long will it last?” Marten asked.

Namtur shrugged. “In my day, the People of the Fur were valiant and mighty. Great men and terrible beasts, a wonder to behold and a challenge to fight.” He waved his hand. “These… Meh.”

Derek flexed his shoulders. The chains shattered and melted into thin air.

Wow. He hadn’t even strained.

Namtur’s eyes narrowed. “Except that one. Go inside, child.” He pulled a long, curved knife out of his robes.

Okay, that was enough. The words of the old language came naturally, as if I was born to it. “Release them and take the child inside. Please.”