Book One -- The Chain

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She entered in a flurry of skirts and brown hair, a dervish that rushed towards my desk. Coming to an abrupt halt, she knelt in front of it. For a moment, I thought she’d begin a prayer as she clasped her hands together.

“I beg you, do not do this.” Her eyes were closed, but they still pleaded with me. “This is the stupidest idea you have ever come up with, and that’s saying something because all your ideas are stupid.”

I laughed. “Thanks.”

She cracked an eye open and glared. “I’m serious. Stupidest idea ever!” Her voice increased in pitch as she enunciated every word.

“Look at this.” Her hands flew apart to point downward. “I’m on my knees begging. How often am I on my knees?”

I struggled to keep the smirk off my face. “Depends on who you talk to.”

Her exasperation ran the gamut of thrown hands, eye rolls, and a throaty grunt as she rose to her feet again.

“Mira, it’ll be fine.” I assured her. “I promise.”

She leaned closer. When she spoke, her voice was a furious whisper. “No, it won’t be fine! I love you but you’re so--” Mira growled as her hands squeezed together, intimating her wish to strangle me.

I stood from my chair then, circling the edge of the desk to draw her into a hug. I loved how she nicely fit against me, curvy and soft in my arms. Her hair still smelled of the sun.

“Mira—”

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” Her hands smoothed over my back and she gave me a gentle squeeze. “Nothing good will come of this. Nothing.”

I smoothed my cheek over those brown curls and held her tighter. “I need to do this. Please understand.”

“I understand.” She mumbled into my shirt. Turning her face, Mira pressed a kiss to my jaw. “I just don’t agree.”

****

Ingredients didn’t grow on trees — not all of them anyway. It took me the better part of a month to track down the things that went bump in the night, slay them, and harvest an eyeball here, a kidney there, even a musk gland or two.

For the excursions I needed backup, I invited Misha. He embodied his nickname. Gruff and grizzly, he was perfect for intimidation. It didn’t hurt that he could swing a silver sword with the best of the demon hunters.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked at one point, extending out a broad hand to help me across the ditch he had cleared in one jump.

“You know why.” I dug a boot into the slick mud for a toe hold before boosting myself up.

“No, why are you doing this?” He emphasized the ‘you’ as he pulled, letting go once I reached the grass beside him. “Anyone else could work the incantations and do the binding. After all you’ve been through—”

“I owe it to him.” I interrupted, stubbing my toe to scrape off the mud. “I can’t do anything else, but I can do this.”

Misha nodded, satisfied. “Are the rumors true?”

I chuckled as I pulled a small pouch from my coat and crouched to smooth a hand over the grass. The soft blades were damp from the cold night air.

“Which ones?” Glancing up at Misha I smiled. He was a mountain of dark against the starry backdrop of the sky.

“That you and he were lovers.”

My fingers paused on the laces to the pouch. It didn’t matter who knew any more.

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