Magic Unchained Read Online Free PDF Page B

hoped for the better.
    He exhaled through his nose. “Look, Cara, I—”
    “Something’s wrong,” she interrupted, attention fixed on the others, where there was a sudden flurry of activity, a few shouts. “Come on.” She was in motion before he could call her back, beelining for where JT was suddenly faced off opposite Carlos, both of them red faced and furious.
    Sven cursed and strode after her, knowing she was right. Duty called. And wasn’t that a bitch?
    As Cara headed toward the others, she was too aware of Sven walking beside her, Mac dogtrotting at his heels. The two moved alike, making her think of wide-open spaces and the kind of freedom she was suddenly dying for, because she was raw from the funeral, shaky from the attack, and churned up over Sven’s unexpected return, which could spell trouble. The rebel members of the
winikin
mistrusted her old connection to the coyote mage, thinking it put her closer to the traditionalists or, worse, the Nightkeepers themselves. That meant she needed to watch not just her own step, but their perceptions, as well.
    Sure enough, as she drew nearer, a couple of the rebels shot her dark looks that accused her of fraternizing. Or maybe the accusation was inside her, coming from the heat that was still vibrating through her body, singing a familiar inner refrain of,
He’s back, he’s back, he’s back,
just as it had when she was younger. Back then she’d thought each time he came home that he’d finally be ready to settle down, stick around, be there for the people who needed him.
    Focus,
she told herself, shoving aside the lingering heat and the churning excitement that belonged to the too-optimistic girl she couldn’t afford to be anymore.“What’s wrong?” she asked as she reached the
winikin
. They gave way, muttering and shifting, letting her into the group and then closing around her, shutting Sven on the outside.
    As she reached the center, JT snarled, “Fuck this,” and spun and stalked away in the opposite direction, shoulder-checking a couple of guys who didn’t get clear fast enough.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dez shaking his head as if to say,
Typical,
but she knew that JT might have a temper and a major shoulder chip when it came to the Nightkeepers, but the fiery rebel wasn’t irrational. If he was in a mood, there was a reason.
    Just as she turned to ask her father what the hell was going on, another of the newer
winikin,
Sebastian, caught her arm. “You going to show us yours?” He was a hard-edged fiftyish man who had lost his wife and child in the massacre and made no secret of his hatred for the magi… and right now, he was looking at her like she was the enemy. His eyes were hard and harsh, his grip rough enough to put a stir of fear in her belly, though she didn’t—couldn’t—let it show.
    “Godsdamn it, Sebastian.” She yanked her arm away. “What the hell are you—”
    She broke off as he shoved back his right sleeve to bare his forearm… which now wore a black, tattoolike mark of two interconnected ovals, along with eyes and a gaping beak, and the hint of feathers. Cara froze as her heart
thudda-thudda
ed in her chest, kicked off rhythm by shock.
    Oh, holy shit.
It was the mark of the owl bloodline.
    And it hadn’t been there before the funeral.
    Cloth rustled and a few more of the rebels pushed uptheir sleeves to bare their forearms, which now bore their bloodline marks. She saw an eagle, an ax, a curl of smoke, and two others she didn’t recognize. But she sure as hell recognized the despair in their eyes. She’d seen it in her own right after Carlos had forced her marks on her, indenturing her to Sven and putting her under Nightkeeper law whether she liked it or not. Because where the Nightkeepers’ forearm marks were the symbols of status and power, the marks of the
winikin
made them into servants, pairing the
aj winikin
“I serve” glyph with smaller bloodline glyphs.
    The rebels hadn’t chosen to have