Magic Strikes by Ilona Andrews

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Bouda is what I am.”
    I wiped the last smudge of tzatziki off my plate with my bread. “She’s a knight of the Order. Only one in eight who enroll into the Order’s Academy makes it to graduation. She’s worked very hard at being a human. Be her friend. Talk to her. Find out what books she reads, what guns she likes . . . Speaking of books, I can tell you something specific about Andrea, but it will cost you.”
    “What do you need?”
    “The Midnight Games. Everything you know.”
    “Easy enough.” Raphael grinned. “You go first.”
    “How do I know you’ll pay up?”
    “Andrea’s coming up the stairs. I can hear her. Please, Kate.” He did his version of puppy eyes, and I almost fell out of my chair.
    “Fine.” Kate Daniels, trained negotiator. When in possession of some valuable information, give it away to the first sexy man you see with no guarantee of return. “Lorna Sterling. She writes paranormal romances. Andrea loves her with unholy love. She has a stack of her books under her desk at work.
    She’s missing numbers four and six.”
    Raphael pulled a pen out of his backpack and scribbled on his forearm. “Lorna?”
    “Sterling. Books four and six. Andrea’s been haunting that bookstore on the corner for weeks looking for them.”
    Andrea emerged from the door, carrying a milk shake and a plate of sliced peaches. The pen vanished into Raphael’s backpack.
    I leveled my hard stare at Raphael. “Give.”
    “The Midnight Games are forbidden,” he said. “By the direct order of the Beast Lord, no member of the Pack may participate, aid, or bet on the Midnight Games.”
    “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
    He shrugged. There was more to it; I could tell by his face. He was holding out on me. Bastard. I looked at Andrea. Help me.
    She took a peach, bit a tiny piece from it, and licked her lips slowly. Raphael did a stunning impression of a pointer sighting a pheasant.
    “How come they’re forbidden? Is there a story behind it?” Andrea bit another piece of peach and licked her lips again.
    “Yes, there is,” Raphael murmured. I almost felt sorry for him. I wonder if that would work with . . . I grabbed that thought and stomped on it before it had a chance to infect my head with nonsense.
    Andrea smiled. “That sounds interesting. I’d like to hear it.”

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    Raphael caught himself. “It’s not something we explain to outsiders.”
    “Too bad.” Andrea shrugged and glanced at me. “Are you ready to go?”
    “I was born ready.” I reached for my bag.
    “I guess there wouldn’t be any harm in telling it this once,” Raphael said.
    I let go of the bag.
    “In two thousand twenty-four, the tournament was still legal, and the championship came down to a fight between the Necro Lords and Andorf’s Seven. Andorf was a huge were-Kodiak, twenty-five hundred and eighty pounds in beast form. Had paws bigger than my head.” Raphael spread his hands, indicating a paw the size of a large watermelon. “Big, mean, vicious bastard. Loved to fight. He put together a good team, but by that point there were only four of them left: Andorf, a wolf, a rat, and my aunt Minny.”

CHAPTER 4
    ANDREA’S MOUTH HUNG OPEN IN A DECIDEDLY unseductive manner.
    “Aunt, huh?” I said to say something.
    Raphael nodded. “That’s how the bouda clan used to make its money. We’d bet on ourselves. It was different back then. Now we have the Pack, which provides us with operating funds. We draft a budget.
    We have an investment plan and own shares in businesses. But back then there was no such thing as a
    ‘Pack.’ There were isolated clans and we pretty much sank or swam on our own.”
    The bouda clan counted less than twenty people. Sixteen years ago, it must’ve been even smaller. They couldn’t have had an easy time of surviving. “Who was on the other team in the