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"As a freeholding lord of the Unseelie Accords," I said, "it would be considered an act of war if I killed you out of hand, despite your militant intrusion into my territory." I narrowed my eyes. "However, your behavior gives me ample latitude to invoke the defense of property and self clause. I will leave the decision to you. Continue this asinine behavior, and I will kill you and offer a weregild to your lord, King Corb, in accordance with the conflict resolution guidelines of section two, paragraph four."
As I told you, my lawyers send me endless letters. I speak their language.
Mag seemed to take that in for a moment. He looked at me, then Gard. His eyes narrowed. They tracked back to Hendricks, his head hardly moving, and he seemed to freeze when he saw the sword in Hendricks's hand.
His eyes flicked to Justine and the child and burned for a moment--not with adoration or even simple lust. There was a pure and possessive hunger there, coupled with a need to destroy that which he desired. I have spent my entire life around hard men. I know that form of madness when I see it.
"So," Mag said. His eyes traveled back to me and were suddenly heavy-lidded and calculating. "You are the new mortal lord. We half believed that you must be imaginary. That no one could be as foolish as that."
"You are incorrect," I said. "Moreover, you can't have them. Get out."
Mag stood up. The movement was slow, liquid. His limbs didn't seem to bend the proper way. "Lord Marcone," he said, "this affair is no concern of yours. I only wish to take the slaves."
"You can't have them. Get out."
"I warn you," Mag said. There was an ugly tone in his voice. "If you make me return for her--for them--you will not enjoy what follows."
"I do not require enjoyment to thrive. Leave my domain. I won't ask again."
Hendricks shuffled his feet a little, settling his balance.
Mag gathered himself up slowly. He extended his hand, and the twisted stick leapt from the floor and into his fingers. He gave Gard a slow and well-practiced sneer and said, "Anon, mortal lordling. It is time you learned the truth of the world. It will please me to be your instructor." Then he turned, slow and haughty, and walked out, his shoulders hunching in an odd, unsettling motion as he moved.
"Make sure he leaves," I said quietly.
Gard and Hendricks followed Mag from the room.
I turned my eyes to Justine and the child.
"Mag," I said, "is not the sort of man who is used to disappointment."
Justine looked after the vanished fomor and then back at me, confusion in her eyes. "That was sorcery. How did you . . . ?"
I stood up from behind my desk and stepped out of the copper circle set into the floor around my chair. It was powered by the sorcerous equivalent of a nine-volt battery, connected to the control on the underside of my desk. Basic magical defense, Gard said. It had seemed like nonsense to me--it clearly was not.
I took my gun from its holster and set it on my desk.
Justine took note of my reply.
Of course, I wouldn't give the personal aide of the most dangerous woman in Chicago information about my magical defenses.
There was something hard and not at all submissive in her eyes. "Thank you, sir, for . . ."
"For what?" I said very calmly. "You understand, do you not, what you have done by asking for my help under the Accords?"
"Sir?"
"The Accords govern relations between supernatural powers," I said. "The signatories of the Accords and their named vassals are granted certain rights and obligations--such as offering a warning to a signatory who has trespassed upon another's territory unwittingly before killing him."
"I know, sir," Justine said.
"Then you should also know that you are most definitely not a signatory of the Accords. At best, you qualify in the category of 'servitors and chattel.' At worst, you are considered to be a food animal."
She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening--not in any sense of outrage or offense, but in realization. Good. She grasped the realities of the situation.
"In either case," I continued, "you are property. You have no rights in the current situation, in the eyes of the Accords--and more to the point, I have no right to withhold another's rightful property. Mag's behavior provided me with an excuse to kill him if he did not depart. He will not give me such an opening a second time."
Justine swallowed and stared at me for a moment. Then she glanced down at the child in her arms. The child clung harder to her and seemed to lean somewhat away from me.
