Jessica Andersen - Spellfire

“Wow.” Strike shook his head. “Seriously. That was. Wow.”

Conversation rippled outward from there, with a whole lot of “holy shit” and “did you see that?” Then Rabbit threw back his head and let out a howl of “Yahoooo!” It echoed off the confines of the sacred well and the distant ruins and came back to them.

“Awoooo!” caroled one of the coyotes, and the second one joined in a beat later. And then everyone joined in, shouting and screaming, and making noise as it started dawning that they had survived—every one of them, with not a single fatality—and the barrier was sealed.

“We won!” Rabbit swept Myr up and spun her around. “We won!”

“Damn straight!” She kissed him on the lips—her beautiful, wonderful, chaotic man—and raised her hands in the air as he spun them both around. “First round’s on me!” she shouted to a chorus of cheers. “And the second one’s on Rabbit here, so save the expensive stuff for him!”

While the others whirled and cheered, shouting plans for a party to end all parties back at Skywatch, Anna stripped off her weapons belt and slipped away, heading for the fringes of the excitement.

“Hey, sis.” Strike’s voice stopped her, had her turning back.

“I’m just . . .” She made a vague gesture that wasn’t quite in the direction of the quarantine camp. “I’ll be back soon. If you need me to ’port before then, just—”

“I just wanted to wish you all the luck in the world.”

“Oh.” A tentative smile caught, then spread. “Thanks.”

He waved her off. “Go on, take your time. I’ll cover the transport.”

She glanced down at her marks. “Do you think the ’port magic will still work?”

“While we’re still in equinox and the conjunction? Yeah. Tomorrow? We’ll have to see.” He paused. “Does it matter?”

“Not to me.” She lifted a hand. “See you in a bit, little brother.”

He was chuckling and saying something along the lines of “Little, my ass” as she spun up the magic, found the golden travel thread connecting her to her destination, and made the jump.

The supply closet she ’ported into was deserted, but the hallway outside was anything but. She stepped out into a scene of utter chaos.

It was glorious and fan-freaking-tastic chaos, though, because it didn’t come from doctors running around, trying to deal with some new medical crisis. Instead, it came from the johnny-clad people thronging the hallways, all talking at once in a mix of English, Spanish and Maya, and the shouts of the security officers trying to herd them along.

Over the cranked-loud intercom, a woman’s voice blared, “Please follow the exit signs out to the central courtyard. Officers will direct you to the mess hall, where you will be given further information.” The message repeated in the other two languages.

A bubble of joy lifted in Anna’s throat, coming out as a delighted laugh. They were awake! The xombis were up and moving, and out of their restraints. She wasn’t sure how that had happened or why, as it seemed there could’ve been a more organized release protocol in place. But that wasn’t her call; she wasn’t in charge.

And speaking of the man in charge . . . she looked but didn’t see any of the volunteers she’d gotten to know, and the few scrub-wearing nurses and techs within range were wide-eyed, overwhelmed, and doing their best to keep the human tide moving. But that was okay. Anna had a feeling she knew where she could find David.

It took her a long five minutes to make it to the far patient wing, even with some subtle magical nudges, but she finally reached her destination. She paused for a moment outside Rosa’s door, sudden nerves kicking. The panel was closed and the KEEP OUT signs were still posted. What if she was too late? What if . . . ?

“Knock it off,” she told herself, then took a deep breath and let herself through.

Rosa was there, still curled up beneath the teddy bears. And David was there, sitting at her bedside in jeans and a rolled-up shirt, with a beard-shadow and dark circles under his eyes, looking as if he hadn’t moved since last night. The lab coat tossed over the back of his chair said he’d been with the others, though, and the worry in his face told her the news wasn’t good, at least in this one room.

When he saw Anna, his expression blanked for a second, then flared. He rose and crossed to her, stopping short with a move that made her think he wanted to reach out, wanted to touch her, but didn’t know whether he should. And she felt the same sudden shyness, the realization that their e-mails had gotten far more intimate than their physical selves.

He cleared his throat. “I should probably snarl at you for still being in this area, but I’m not sure I’ve really got the right to yell at you, and, besides, it’d be a total lie because damn, I’m glad to see you.”

And there it was, the e-mail voice she’d started looking for, needing. Fighting for, even. She grinned as his online and real selves merged once more in her mind. “Let’s just say I didn’t go all that far.” Her smile faded, though, as she looked past him. “She didn’t wake up when the others did?”

“How did you know about that?” He waved it off. “Never mind. Rumor mill. God knows I’m surprised the families haven’t rushed the fence line yet to get to the patients, or vice versa. We need to run some tests first, make sure this isn’t some weird lull before another outbreak, or . . . shit. I’m stalling. Because yeah, Rosa didn’t wake up. Probably ninety percent of the patients just clicked on about twenty minutes ago, bing, the lights went on and somebody was home. Almost all of the ones who didn’t wake up had been really far gone before they went into stasis, so starved there’s a good chance they were brain-dead or close to it.” He turned back to the bed, eyes hollowing out. “Rosa, though . . . I just don’t know what’s going on, whether it’s still the disease, or if there’s something else. For all I know, she’s staying under because of the shock of seeing her parents kill each other. But even then, how can I help her?” His voice lowered, went soft as he said to the child in Spanish, “You can come back, little one. I know you’ve had a bad time of it, but you’ve got people here on your side. We’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Anna’s heart tugged for them both, yet ached a little for herself. Because what she was about to do was a hell of a risk. “I brought something I think might help her.”

His head came up. “More homeopathics?”

“Something like that.” She reached into a pocket and came up with the sturdy stoppered bottle she had carried into battle as a talisman. The liquid inside was brown, greasy and brackish, and reminded her of dark magic. It was the good stuff, though. And maybe it would work.

She’d gotten it from Sasha early this morning, along with the basic recipe if more was needed. The healer had taken a tonic she’d had on hand, and infused it with a jolt of equinox magic and a potent mixture of cacao, maize and sacrificial blood. It couldn’t cure the xombi virus, but Sasha had thought that once the spell was lifted—if it lifted—the potion might help bring the patients back by strengthening their chu’ul, their life force.

The xombis hadn’t needed it, luckily. But would it be enough to bring Rosa back? There was no telling why the child was still out, if it was because of the virus or the shock to her system, or if channeling Bastet’s message had changed her irrevocably, perhaps putting her mind partly in this world, partly in the next. Anna knew she had to try the potion, though, had to do anything in her power to break through the little girl’s coma. Even if what she did was guaranteed to increase David’s suspicions.