Page 148 of Cold Curses

“I have no objection to reducing his power,” I said. “Having a sword strong enough to beat him is one thing, but I still have to avoid what he’s dishing out. And we have to make sure he can be safely incarcerated.”

“I like this plan.”

We looked up, found Gwen in the doorway. She wore jeans and a CPD T-shirt today, and I wasn’t sure if she was dressed for relaxation or for mixing it up with villains. Probably the latter, given the weapon holstered at her waist.

“Hey,” Theo said, his eyes warming. He rose to meet her. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she said, and squeezed the hand he offered her. But she shook her head, held up her free hand. “Okay, that’s a lie. I heard someone got magically swole.” She looked me over, her scan pausing at the scabbard on my belt.

“It’s locked away,” Theo said on my behalf. “I’ll give you all the details later. It is a long story.”

“Took like fifteen straight minutes,” Roger said with a grin.

“You’re all awful,” I said. “But I love you anyway.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod, her final determination.

I felt like I’d won a prize: I’d gained her confidence.

“Petra and Lulu are going to figure out a way to pry some of the extra magic out of Black,” I said. “And then it’s go time.”

“And if the magic doers can make that happen, how do we get him to where we need him to be?” Gwen asked.

“Monster is the lure,” Connor said. “When we tell Black we’re ready to deal, he’s gonna come running.”

My screen buzzed, and I pulled it out. Then my blood went cold.

It was a message from an unknown number, with a single image of Kieran Swift. He stood against a building, arms spread and bound by gleaming chains. Probably silver, which was kryptonite to shifters.

Then a second message appeared—a single phrase.

Come get him.

* * *

I showed Connor and the team. This time, I was the one who had to hold Connor back. And it wasn’t easy. He was a shifter in his prime, with the power of an alpha, and Black had threatened Pack. Maybe not his Pack, but Pack all the same.

I moved in front of him, a physical barrier between him and the door. And he did not like that.

“This is my problem,” he said, “and I will fix it.”

“No,” I said, “this isourproblem, and we will fix it when our plan is ready. Remember that Black doesn’t care about Swift or you.”

I immediately felt guilty when I remembered the curiosity in Black’s gaze when he’d seen Swift the night before. Was that when he’d concocted his plan?

“He cares about monster and incidentally me. He cares about himself most of all. He thinks this will get us where he wants us to be, so he can proceed to take Sorcha’s magic out of me.” The sword shimmied.

Petra was already on her screen with the sorcerers. Roger and Theo searched for data in the picture or the file that might tell us where Swift was being held.

“You need to call your dad and tell him we’ll get Swift back. And then the Pack is going to have to give us room.”

His eyes flashed like those of a predator in moonlight, a plain warning that I would ignore at my own peril. “The Pack will do what it has to do.”

“Run full on into a trap? Put more shifters in danger?”

Connor’s lips curled. Magic rolled off his body, thickening the air in the room.

Not one to miss a chance, Petra took off her gloves and wiggled her fingers in the air, presumably to collect Connor’s magic. A good idea, given the possibility we’d need a bolt from her later.