Iron and Magic (The Iron Covenant, #1)

by Ilona Andrews

“There may be hope for you yet.” “Rot in hell, d’Ambray.” “I love you too, darling.”

Elara reached over, picked up a folder from the desk, and held it in front of her so only her eyes were visible. “What are you doing?” “Waiting for your head to explode. I don’t want to miss it, but I don’t want to be splattered with gore.”

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. “I’m picturing cutting your head off with these scissors.” Elara laughed and walked out of the barracks.

“I don’t believe you.” “Wait.” She held up her hand. “Let me check if I care.” Hugh glared at her. “No,” she said. “Apparently, I don’t. It’s good that we got that straightened out.”

Hugh reached over and held out his hand. The entire column was behind them, watching. She gritted her teeth and put her hand into his. “Oh look, my skin isn’t smoking,” Hugh murmured. “You’re overdoing it with the PDAs.” “We’re newlyweds. If I threw you over my shoulder and dragged you into the woods, that would be overdoing it.”

“Try it. They won’t even find your bones.” “Oh, darling, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding my bone.”

“You’ll pay for that,” she ground out. “Mmm, are you going to punish me? Kinky girl.”

“Stay near me on the way back.” Surprise slapped her face. She turned it into cold arrogance. “Worried about my survival?” “Don’t want to miss an opportunity to use you as a body shield.” “How sweet of you.”

“Do you not understand me? I won’t work with Lennart. Elara, are you stupid or hard of hearing?” “I must be stupid, because I married an idiot who stomps around and throws tantrums like a spoiled child! What the hell did this Curran do to you? Killed your master, stole your girl, burned down your castle? What?” Hugh leaned back, his eyes blazing. Oooh, she touched a nerve. Direct hit. She turned to Stoyan. “Let me guess, it was the girl.” “And the castle,” Felix said quietly.

She sighed. “Come on, then, wife. Put on a happy face.” “Ugh.” She reached over and slid her fingers into the crook of his elbow. “Good God, control yourself, woman. We’re in public. At least wait until we’re in the bedroom.” “Your corpse will grow lovely goldenseal.”

“What is he doing?” she ground out. “Not staying in his room like you told him to,” Dugas said. “I suppose he doesn’t like being grounded.”

“He isn’t my dog.” She pointed at Cedric. “Tell him that.”

“You know,” Elara murmured thoughtfully. “He is kind of handsome. In that older grizzled veteran way.” “Rufus the Ashes? Sorry to disappoint you, but he’s happily married.” “Really?” “For about thirty years now. Marissa likes splitting people with her axe, so I would think twice if I were you.” “You’re making this up,” she said. “Go ahead. Test the waters. Just don’t come running to me when she shows up here looking to make you a head shorter.”

“How is it that Raphael made more holes in you than in swiss cheese, but your assholeness survived?” “Raphael doesn’t have a knife big enough to kill my assholeness.”

She spun on her feet and walked out. Behind her Lamar murmured, “One day that woman will drown you in the moat and I won’t blame her.”

“Has your man even held a hoe before?” Bishop asked. Stoyan grimaced. “Not that kind.”

“Oh please. I gave you three gorgeous naked women, and you practically dislocated your knees chasing me around the pool instead.”

“What if I’m dead and this is purgatory, and you’re my punishment?” “I doubt it,” she told him. “Why?” “Because if I’m your punishment, you’re mine. The Christian god is the god of forgiveness. He is too kind to do this, even to us.”

Hugh fixed her with a stare. “Were you planning on telling me about the damn tunnels?” She pretended to ponder it. “Possibly.” “Would you like to tell me now?” “There are tunnels under the castle, Hugh.” “There it is. Thank you.” If sarcasm was liquid, she would be up to her ankles in it. “You’re welcome.”

The scumbag would do it. Hugh saw it in Nez’s eyes. “Good speech,” he said. “I’d clap, but I’m all tied up.”

“Why are you reading him this boring shit?” Bale asked. “Unlike your half-blood prince, this is a classic.” “Half-Blood Prince is a great book.” “Of course it is. What could be better than stories of clueless teenagers sent off to… Bale, what is that?” “What, this?” Lamar’s voice took on a sharp edge. “Is that a wand?” “It’s a stick.” “Are you pointing a wand at me?” “Who, me?”

“Bale, if any Latin comes out of your mouth, it better be a litany of the saints, because I will end you.”