Jessica Andersen - Spellfire

“True. But you’re the crossover.”

“Which doesn’t mean a fucking thing unless I can figure out what I’m supposed to do.” And if he believed Bastet, there was a good chance that the whole crossover thing was just another distraction, one that both the kohan and the kax had used to confuse the Xibalbans and Nightkeepers.

“How about having some fucking faith?” Red-Boar growled. “When the gods want us to know something, they always find a way to get through.”

“Seems to me they just did.”

“That Egyptian horseshit was a lie, just like Phee’s ghost was a lie.”

“I didn’t feel any dark magic when Bastet projected herself. Did you?”

“The Banol Kax lie about every-fucking-thing. Why not about the magic, too? The barrier is barely hanging on. What’s to say they couldn’t hide their magic, make it look like something else?”

And the damn thing was, as much as Rabbit wanted to argue with anything that came out of his old man’s mouth, he couldn’t. Not this time. “I don’t. . . . Shit.”

Red-Boar’s eyes took on a satisfied gleam. “That’s better.” He didn’t move a muscle, but seemed suddenly closer, bigger in Rabbit’s field of vision. “Think about it. What’s the distraction here? Why did Bastet appear now, this late in the game?”

“Because it took this long for Anna to be ready to receive the message.”

“Bullshit. If I could get through to her off and on over the past few years, then sure as shit a god could do it.”

It shouldn’t have kicked up a spurt of resentment to know that Red-Boar had contacted Anna from the other side. Clenching his jaw, Rabbit ground out, “Fine. Let’s say you’re right. I’m not saying I think you are, but if you are, then Dez is the one you need to be working on.”

“I am. I will. But you’re the crossover, damn it. You’re the key.”

“So you keep telling me. So how about telling me what the hell you want me to do right now. Why even come after me?” His lips twisted. “Or are you just blowing off steam at someone you figure has to stand there and take it?” Now that was an old, familiar pattern.

“Poor you,” Red-Boar sneered. “You always had the basics and then some. Cry me a fucking river.”

“Don’t,” Rabbit said flatly. “You really don’t want to go there.”

His old man must’ve seen something in his eyes, because he cursed and turned away. “Screw this. I’ve got a meeting with the king. Think about it, though, boy. Think long and hard before you do something really fucking stupid.”

“That’s one of the few lessons I think I have learned.”

Red-Boar just growled back over his shoulder. “Use your head, for fuck’s sake.”

Rabbit didn’t mean to watch him walk away, but his old man always could twist him around and tie him in fucking knots. Which left him standing there for a minute, debating. Logic said he should warn Dez how bad his old man was getting. Instinct, though, had him gravitating toward the path that led to his cottage . . . and beyond that to the firing range.

At the thought of the range, warmth kicked in his chest and an ache tugged low in his gut, letting him know that he hadn’t been heading for his cottage, after all. He’d been heading for Myrinne.

His body knew where she was. His magic knew.

What it didn’t know was what he was supposed to say to her.

“Fuck it.” Deciding to let Dez and Red-Boar go the first round without him, he headed for his cottage, but ducked in only briefly to grab a couple of things. Then he kept going along the path, all the way to the range.

When the Nightkeepers had first returned to Skywatch, the weapons training area had consisted of a boring-ass indoor range of the cubicle-and-paper-target variety, plus an outdoor sniper range that wasn’t much better. These days, thanks to Michael’s background as a government-trained assassin and his lust for gadgets, the training area included a faux Mayan ruin built in cement and rebar, along with a second indoor range inside a prefab steel building. There, trainees could work their way through an urban-jungle training course, blasting away at pop-up targets and holos, with a digital scoreboard in the corner tallying their speed, kills and collateral damage.

Rabbit made for the big steel building, knowing that was where she would be even before he saw a flicker of reflected light and heard the generator kick on. The setup was like a full-scale video game. He couldn’t think of a better place for someone like him—or Myrinne—to burn off some aggression.

As he approached, he heard a muffled pop-pop-pop from one of the holo-enabled training weapons, then the crackling roar of a fireball. The surge of magic lit his senses and tightened his skin as he stepped through the main door and into the small locker room that acted as an antechamber. The lights were off in the windowless room, creating a warm darkness that wrapped around him as he paused in the shadows and looked into the main room, seeing without being seen.

Myr had changed out of the jeans and soft sweater she’d been wearing earlier, into close-fitting black workout gear that moved as fluidly as she did when she spun and snapped off a “shot” of laser light into a glowing lava demon, flung herself to the ground to avoid a hologram claw-swipe, and came up firing. Wearing her weapons belt along with the gizmos that made up the badass laser-tag system, with knives strapped to her thigh and calf, she looked deadly as hell, and twice as sexy. Her face was set in concentration, her eyes gleamed with reflected holo-light, and her moves showed the hours she’d put into her training, and the athleticism—and sharp edge—that had made her a natural at this from the very beginning. She didn’t think she was brave, didn’t think she had fought enough against the Witch, but he knew different. And could’ve stood there watching her all damn day.

She crouched and spun, flattened three hologram camazotz in rapid succession, then nailed a fourth with a bolt of crackling green magic that surged and spit with a dangerous, feminine power that hardened his flesh. More, it brought his own fighting instincts to the fore, making him want to challenge her, tussle with her, make love to her, right here and now.

Question was, what did she want?

Steeling himself, he stepped out of the shadows and into her peripheral vision.

She checked her next attack and spun to face him, cheeks flushed with exertion, eyes going wary and brittle at the sight of him. She raised her weapon but didn’t holster it, and didn’t let the magic ramp down. “I’m a little busy here. And really not in the mood for company.”

“It’s a pretty night.” He lifted the six-pack that was the first of the bribes he’d grabbed from the cottage. “I was hoping we could sit out and watch the stars for a bit.”

Her eyes didn’t give a damn thing away. “Why?”

Because last night was amazing, but you still snuck out. Because you’re the one I want to be with, the only one I trust, even when I don’t trust myself. Especially then.

He kept those answers inside, though, and went with the one that’d come to him as he’d stood there at the pathway’s fork, knowing he should go up to the mansion but wanting to be with her instead. “Because the first time around, we just sort of happened. We met, we liked each other, made sense together—at least as we saw it—and we got together and had some damn good times.” He paused. “But the thing is, I was so caught up in being a Nightkeeper, so convinced that we were destined mates that I coasted. I didn’t work for it, didn’t work for you.”

Maybe she paled a little, but she didn’t back down, didn’t lower her defenses. “And now?”

“Now I want to make it up to you. Hell, I don’t know what that even means, just that I hated waking up alone this morning, and I hate not knowing if you’ll be with me tonight, or ever again. What’s more, I know damn well that there’s not anybody else I want to be with right now, nobody else I want to talk to about the things that’re going down.” He reached into a pocket, pulled out a Ziploc half full of Sasha’s death-by-cacao brownies and held it out to her. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was asking for, but he asked it anyway. “What do you say? Are you willing to give me another chance?”