Jessica Andersen - Dawnkeepers

“I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt Anna,” Alexis said, feeling like they were going around in circles. “But it’s simply not safe for us to harbor a makol in our midst. Just look what happened when Iago got one of his people inside. Do you really want to give the actual Banol Kax a foothold?”

“Lucius is locked up and double-warded,” Nate countered. “We can keep him that way, and study him during the cardinal days, maybe come up with a way to cure him. The rest of the time he’ll be free to roam the compound and help Jade in the library, just like he is now.” He spoke to the group, but Alexis knew his words were aimed directly at her.

The air crackled between them, rife with energy. But it wasn’t the same anger and frustration as before; this was a good energy, a productive energy that had developed in the week since she had gone to him as a woman wanting a man, and nothing more.

During the day they trained together, and advised the king and queen, taking opposite sides partly because their views differed that sharply, and partly because having a devil’s advocate never hurt.

They spent their nights together, usually in the cottage, which she liked for its privacy, and for the touches of home. The shag rug would have to go, of course, but the other kitsch had grown on her just as quickly as the idea of Nate as her lover and partner. They worked well together, loved well together.

And if she’d fallen hard while he was still seeing the sex as a nice side benefit, then that was entirely her problem, her choice. Her responsibility to deal with.

She shook her head, both at her own weakness for the slick, aloof ones, and to counter his point.

“You’re making Lucius sound like a pet we can stick in a kennel and let out when it’s convenient.

That’s inhumane.”

“So it’s more humane to kill him now, without giving him a chance to come out of it?” Nate’s eyes narrowed on hers. “That’s logical.”

“From his perspective? Maybe not. But from the perspective of keeping the Nightkeepers safe, so we’ll have the greatest possible number of warriors to hold the barrier and fight the end-time, then yes. It’s the most rational answer.” Alexis glanced at a too-pale Anna, hating the necessity, and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

The king’s sister grimaced. “What we need is a mind-bender to exorcise the makol .”

Nate held up both hands in a don’t go there gesture. “The only one we know of is Iago, and not even I’m going to okay a plan that involves capturing him and somehow forcing him to fix Lucius. Besides, wouldn’t it be more or less impossible to make a mind-bender like him do something? He could just twist us back around and make us think it was our idea to release him in the middle of Skywatch.”

“Now, there’s a cheerful thought.” Alexis shuddered. “Too bad none of the others got—” She broke off as a new thought occurred. “Oh, shit!”

“Is that a good ‘oh, shit,’ or a bad one?” Leah asked.

“Potentially both,” Alexis answered as adrenaline kicked. “After what happened with the library, a bunch of us were sitting around and brainstorming, trying to figure out how Iago does what he can do.

Lucius was wondering whether Iago might not have far fewer talents than it seems. For example, during the parley he didn’t try to force us to open the front door; he jammed the wards and the woman

’ported inside. So what if that means he didn’t have access to his mind-bending abilities? What if he’s actually borrowing some of his powers from the magi around him?”

The others took a moment to digest the concept. Nate finally broke the silence, saying, “Not a bad point, but it’s academic, isn’t it? It doesn’t really matter where he gets the powers from, as long as he’s got access.”

“It does matter, though, if you think about who he was with when he showed mind-bending powers,” Alexis said. “The first time was when he got the knife from Rabbit, and we’re figuring that he probably used it again in the museum, to distract Rabbit and lure the security guard onto the scene at exactly the wrong moment, then later to make Sven drop the bowl and leave it behind.” She paused.

“Are we seeing the pattern here?”

Anna’s eyes sharpened. “The peccary bloodline carries mind-benders.” She paused. “You’re thinking that Iago was borrowing from Rabbit?”

Leah exhaled. “But Rabbit doesn’t—” She broke off. “You’re right. It could be in his bag of tricks, like the telekinesis. He might not even know he has it yet, or didn’t when he left.” She nodded pensively. “If that’s the case and we can find him, it’s possible he could help rescue Lucius from the makol .”

“That’s assuming Rabbit’s still alive,” Strike grated, his face setting in pain. “We have no reason to believe that’s the case. For gods’ sake, I can’t even get a ’port lock on him.”

Alexis leaned in. “You couldn’t get one on Desiree or Iago, either. What if they’ve got him and they’re blocking your ’port?”

Strike’s expression went thunderous. “Then we find them. And they’re dead.”

Rabbit and Myrinne had been locked up together in the warded cabin for nearly a week with no outside contact, and only a couple of jugs of water and a box of energy bars. Her bruises had faded, leaving her high-cheekboned face unmarked and lovely, though pale with nerves as they sat shoulder to shoulder up against the wall. “You’re sure he’ll come today?” she asked quietly.

“Tomorrow at the absolute latest. He’ll want me for the equinox, which is the day after.” Rabbit tugged at the grimy cuff of his sweatshirt, pulling it down farther, even though it already hid the new mark he wore on his forearm: the quatrefoil red hellmouth of the Xibalbans. He’d sold himself for Myrinne and didn’t regret the transaction for an instant. They’d clicked with each other there in captivity. She was tough and bossy, with an edge of street cool, and she got him like nobody else did.

She understood when he needed to be quiet. Heck, she’d shut him down once or twice when she’d needed her own space, and he hadn’t minded. She couldn’t do magic, but wasn’t afraid of it, either, wasn’t afraid of him. After being the odd man out for so long, it was a huge relief to Rabbit to have someone else out there with him.

They fit, they matched, just as he’d known they would when he’d first seen her and the restless, edgy part inside him had gone still.

They hadn’t done more than hold hands, or curl close together to share body heat as they slept, but that much had been exactly right, calling to something deep inside him, letting him know that now that he’d found her, it was up to him to protect her. Which meant getting both their asses out of there and back to Skywatch. He no longer cared whether Strike was pissed at him. He just wanted to go home. Once he got there, he’d kiss whoever’s ass he had to, promise whatever was necessary in order to claim sanctuary for him and Myrinne.

But first they had to get the hell out of the cabin and away from Iago, which was way easier said than done, given that the bastard had that whole fast-forward/pause thing going on.

Thing was, Rabbit thought he knew a way to neutralize Iago’s advantages—some of them, anyway.

He didn’t know how he knew; he just did.

It all went back to the second day of his captivity, when he’d traded his magic for Myrinne’s life.

After making the deal, he’d followed Iago’s orders, standing inside the skull circle and drinking his own blood from the ceremonial bowl that had been dedicated to the earthquake demon, Cabrakan.