Jessica Andersen - Spellfire

She burrowed into him, her breath hot on his throat. “I just . . . gods, I’m a mess. I’m scared, and I don’t want to be scared.”

“It’s all going to be okay,” he said into her hair, though they both knew those were empty words. He tightened his grip on her, suddenly all too aware that the next time they saw each other, it would be time to ’port to Coatepec Mountain, signaling the beginning of the end. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” She wouldn’t be beside him, but she would still be on the frontlines. He hated knowing that, even though he respected it. But, gods, he needed to believe she was going to be okay.

It terrified him how much he needed that, needed her.

She pulled away to look up at him. “Only if you’ll promise me the same thing.”

“You’ve got it,” he said, and kissed her before she could make him swear it in blood. The kiss was deep, warm and wet, with a sharp edge that he didn’t let himself think was good-bye. And after a moment, they drew apart, knowing there wasn’t enough time for more.

She glanced at her wristband. “We’re down to a half hour.”

“Better hurry if you want that shower.” And he needed all the time he could get to lock his head down tight.

“Yeah, I . . . yeah.” Reaching up on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek, and slipped through the door without looking back.

He moved to the window and watched her go, trying to memorize all of it: her curves, the swing of her hair, the natural swagger that had gotten more pronounced as she had gained confidence with the magic, and with herself. And, watching her, he knew the sad truth. She said she wasn’t brave, but of the two of them, he was the coward. Because only a coward would keep secrets from the woman he loved.

It was just that he’d fucked up so many things in his life, he didn’t want to fuck up the doomsday, too.

Myr cut through the rock garden behind the mansion, hoping to slip into the mage’s wing unseen. She didn’t notice Anna sitting there with her eyes closed and her amulet cradled in her palm until she had tromped halfway across the stonescape, totally disrupting the peace and quiet.

She crunched to a stop. “Shit. Sorry.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Rabbit,” she said, figuring that was explanation enough. “But it’s stupid to be upset over him today of all days.”

“Maybe not. Maybe this is exactly when we need to be thinking about ourselves.”

“Hello, blasphemy.” But part of Myr thought she was right. At the same time, though, she was afraid that thinking about her own problems would only confuse her more right now. She wasn’t sure which was worse—how hard it had hit her to realize Rabbit was keeping secrets from her, or the fact that she’d gone from “what the hell” to “okay, I understand” in two minutes flat, and wasn’t sure if it was fear or logic talking.

Anna let her amulet fall to hang from its chain. “Look, I know I’ve told you to use your head and be careful you don’t confuse leftover emotions with the real thing. But I’ve seen you and Rabbit together, and it doesn’t look like leftover anything to me. And as for using your head? I’m starting to think there’s a lot to be said for following your heart, too.”

“Are you talking about me and Rabbit or you and the outbreak doctor?”

“I don’t have a clue. And you know what? I’m okay with it.”

“You’re not worried about being distracted today?”

“No. I’m giving myself something to fight for. The potential for things. Maybe nothing will happen between me and David. Maybe we’ll ride off into the sunset together, maybe we’ll fizzle out. Who knows?” She made a face. “I’m sorry. You’ve had a fight with Rabbit, and I’m going on about my new crush. That’s not cool.”

“It’s okay. And we didn’t fight. We just . . . I don’t know. Things don’t feel right.”

“Nothing’s going to feel right today. Not until it’s all over.”

“Good point. And thanks.” Myr was suddenly reminded that Rabbit wasn’t the only one she might not see again after today. “I mean it. Not just for this, but for being there for me the past few months. I’ve liked . . . well, I haven’t had many friends. It’s been nice.”

“Same goes. Seriously.” Anna stood and came over to hug her, squeezing tight enough that Myr felt the hard bump of the crystal amulet between them. Then Anna drew back and tipped her head toward the side door. “Now, go. You’ve got twenty-five minutes before we meet for the ’port.”

Four hours to the Great Conjunction

Skywatch

Dez had been afraid to hope for a full army, but that was what he got. And as more and more of his fighters showed up at the ball court meet-up point, striding in wearing their full combat gear and holding their heads high, his chest tightened with emotion.

“They’re all here,” he rasped as the crowd grew, eddying among the piles of equipment.

Reese nodded, but since she was the one who’d been keeping tabs, she said, “Carlos, Shandi and Sebastian left. That’s it as far as I know.”

“Three out of almost eighty. That’s good.” And two of the three were older, more tradition-bound winikin who hadn’t been granted their magical shadow-familiars, and likely wouldn’t have been much use in the actual fighting. As for Sebastian . . . well, he’d always been on the borderline. He’d had a tougher life than most, even among the survivors of the massacre. Apparently he’d decided to go it on his own.

To Dez’s mild surprise, he wished them luck.

“Red-Boar stayed,” Reese said, making a face.

“No surprise there. I didn’t expect him to go quietly.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “Don’t worry. I’ve got him covered.” At least he hoped he did, just like he hoped he wasn’t about to trigger a second, even more devastating Solstice Massacre. Scarred-Jaguar had followed a message from the gods and led his teammates to their deaths. What if he was doing the same damn thing, just dressed up to look different?

Problem was, there wasn’t really a plan B. This was it. This was the war.

Taking another look around, he said, “Looks like they’re all here.” And they were burning daylight.

She squeezed his hand. “We’re behind you one hundred percent, and this is the right thing to do.”

“Gods, I hope so.”

“I know so.”

He looked down at her—tiny, compact, kickass, and armed to the teeth, his mate and his beloved wife, ’til death did them part—and he felt his I’m in charge face falter. “Reese—”

“Don’t.” Eyes flashing, she caught his collar and hauled his face down to hers. “Don’t even try to leave me behind.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, taking strength from her fierceness. “I wish I could.” It killed him that he couldn’t protect her the way he wanted to, and he knew he wasn’t the only one. All throughout the gathering throng, the mated pairs were huddled together, eking out the last few minutes here on home ground.

She gave him a shake. “I wouldn’t let you. We’re a team, Mendez. You and me, always and forever.” She eased back and held up her left hand, so the light glinted off the coiled serpent ring, with its gleaming ruby. “See? I’ve got proof.” And, bless her, she cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

Warmth washed through him like sunlight finding its way into the shadows. Gods, he loved her. He kissed her softly, and then again deeper, with more heat than finesse, until she made that sexy noise in the back of her throat and stopped holding him down by his collar and started using it to hold herself up. Then, he drew back. “You really don’t think I’m repeating history here?”