Jessica Andersen - Storm Kissed

“Ixchel,” Alexis whispered, her face alight as she was bathed in the rainbow light of her goddess.

“Look!” Sasha gasped. “More!” And it was true: high above, through the glowing gap in the sky, they could see a wing here, a flash of scales, clothing, jewels, and stones as the gods acknowledged their lost children.

Then, as the height of the solstice passed, the sky solidified, the glow disappeared, and even the firebird was gone, the sun shining brightly where it had last been.

Reese gripped Dez tightly, then sucked in an awed breath as the rainbow light drew back into itself, returning to the temple. As it hit the pillars, the stone shimmered and changed . . . and when the glimmer faded, where the undulating serpent had been, there were four columns, one at each compass point. Each of them was a jaguar, with Strike, Leah, Sasha, and Anna standing ranged in front of them, looking stunned.

In the center, a huge chac-mool altar arched over a linteled doorway that led into the earth. As they watched, the doorway shimmered and went solid, closing until the next cardinal day.

“Holy shit.” Reese breathed, gripping Dez’s hand tightly and getting a squeeze in return.

In sacrificing his kingship, Strike had won them a new intersection. The Nightkeepers had fulfilled the prophecies. And their luck had finally turned.

Dez whooped, lifted her, and spun her in a dizzying circle while cheers rose up into the sky. Tears glistened, crazy grins flared, kisses met and melded, and Sven’s coyote tipped up his nose in a joyous howl. More, movement rippled in a concentric pattern moving outward from the temple as the villagers began to stir. Dez tugged Reese so they could look over the edge to where a clamor of noise was suddenly swelling. The villagers weren’t makol anymore. But from the looks on their faces, they were sure as hell confused, headed toward terrified.

“I’ve got this,” Rabbit said. He turned to Dez. “Cheech and his brothers are out there—I can feel his echo. They’ll help me translate.”

“And me.” Myrinne put herself next to him.

Dez nodded. “Keep in touch, let us know if you need anything, blah, blah.”

Rabbit’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Dez lifted a shoulder. “I don’t have the history with you that the others do. And”—he glanced down at Reese, eyes softening—“I’m learning to deal with the person standing in front of me, not the one I remember, or think I remember, from before. So, yeah. That’s it. Try not to make me look like an idiot.”

“Will do.” Rabbit grabbed Myrinne’s hand and headed into the milling crowd.

Reese watched them go, instincts pinching. “Are you sure about that?”

“No. But I can’t blame him for what he might do.” He watched Rabbit a moment longer, then turned to the others. “Time to head home.” He looked at Strike. “Can you handle it?”

Strike grinned and held out his hand to Anna. “We’ve got this one. No more misfires. Promise.”

Reese was laughing as she linked fingers with Dez, lifted up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his, so they were kissing while the world lurched sideways, went gray-green, and the Nightkeepers headed back to Skywatch.

One month later

Denver

“I still can’t believe it.” Reese spun in a wide circle, hands outstretched, head tipped back so she could take in the transformation.

Warehouse Seventeen was being rehabbed into Skywatch North.

Local crews and contractors crawled over the place, shouting questions and answers, and wielding power tools that sounded like makol buzz-swords, but creating rather than killing. The charred warehouse ruin had been stripped back to its girders and was being rebuilt, not just to its former questionable glory, but into an entirely new incarnation, with three tiers of offices and bedrooms surrounding a central atrium that was open to the sky through tinted glass panels. The Nightkeepers’ ceremonial objects and armaments would be put in later. For now, it was all about bringing the building—and the neighborhood—up several notches.

Standing a few feet away with his hands in the pockets, Dez raised an eyebrow. “Can’t believe I bought the place, can’t believe how far the renovations have gotten, or can’t believe that I did it on the sly?”

“All of the above.” She stopped spinning and grinned at him, her heart catching at the sight of her man. Her mate.

Wearing jeans, combat boots, and a brown bomber that hid his marks and his .44, he looked as tough and capable as always, but there was more now. The heavy weight of his responsibilities had added new lines to his face, new tension in his jaw. But those were balanced by the glow that lit his eyes when he looked at her, crossed to her, and brushed his lips across hers.

She closed her eyes and leaned into him. He was warm and solid, someone she could depend on. Someone they could all depend on. Not that the two of them didn’t argue—they fought like banshees, probably always would. But he listened to her now, and when he didn’t, she was tough enough to beat her side of things into his thick skull.

They were making it work.

“This is a fabulous surprise,” she said, still reeling from how quickly her morning had gone from his, “I’ve got something to show you,” to a quick ’port hop that had landed them in the middle of Warehouse Seventeen—the place where they began. She shot him a quick look. “You’re not worried about being recognized?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Nate and Carter took care of the paperwork, so the cops won’t be able to find anything outstanding on me. Besides, it’s been a few years, and people see what they expect. When they look at me, they’ll see the latest city guy to jump on some grant money, not the very former—and very dead—cobra de rey.” He paused and shifted, hunching his shoulders a little. A faint shadow crept into his eyes. “And, ah, this isn’t the whole surprise.”

The shadows—worry? nerves?—didn’t trigger the oh shit they would have before. Now his expression just made Reese wonder what he was up to. “Am I going to like the rest of it?”

“I sure as hell hope so.” He pulled his cell, checked the time. “You mind poking around on your own for a few minutes?”

She waved him off. “No problem. I’m sure I can find some trouble to get into.” But as she watched him head off toward the east entrance, she murmured, “And you’d better not be getting yourself into any trouble.” No matter how much she loved him, believed in him, she couldn’t stop the skim of nerves. Something was up. Something big. And she couldn’t see the pattern.

Skywatch

Sven hurled a fallen cacao branch, arching it high over the picnic area to bounce crazily on the packed dust. “Go get it!”

Mac yipped eagerly as he bounded after the toy, racing with a loose-limbed abandon that Sven could feel in his own bones. It stirred him up, making him feel restless. Or rather, more restless. He had been increasingly edgy ever since he had returned from helping out down at Skywatch South—aka Coatepec Mountain—where Anna, Lucius, and Natalie were excavating several ruins near the reborn jaguar palace, in the hopes of figuring out how their ancestors had used the site, and how it would fit into the coming war. Besides being an intersection, that is.

It had been dirty, backbreaking work, and right now he probably should be exhausted. Instead, he and Mac were walking the perimeter of the compound for the second time that morning.

The coyote brought the stick back to him, eyes dancing.

“Fine. But this is the last time.” Shaking his head, Sven cocked his arm to throw it up by the pool—