Blood Spells

now, but if it’s true . . . well, let’s say it’d be a far better outcome than I was expecting.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Patience asked. Granted, it’d be huge to have Mendez work out, not just as a Nightkeeper, but as a second Triad mage. But that would impact the team in general, not her, Brandt, and Hannah.

“When we told him where everyone was, he asked if he could come out for the funeral. He doesn’t want to take attention away from Woody, but he’d like to show his respect for Wood’s sacrifice.”

Strike paused. “Either he’s talking a really good game, or his ancestors did a hell of a job reprogramming him.”

Patience looked up at Brandt. “Your call.”

He nodded. “Yeah, let him come on out. Woody would like knowing there might be one more of us.”

Strike palmed his cell and made the call. A few minutes later, Mendez appeared on the pathway, walking slowly between Rabbit and Jox, not entirely steady on his legs yet. Awake, he looked pretty much the same as he had when he arrived—huge even by Nightkeeper standards, with sharp features, a Mayan nose, and a punch of edgy charisma that was notable even among the magi—with the addition of a pair of pale hazel eyes that seemed to be trying to take in everything at once.

When the small group joined the funerary circle, Rabbit took a moment to look at the pyre and make a gesture of respect, and then sent the twins a finger-wiggle. Finally, he gestured to Mendez and said, “He believes what he’s saying, and it checks out as far down as I can go.”

Strike nodded. “That’ll do for starters.” To Mendez, he said, “Consider yourself on probation. I believe you’re familiar with the concept.” He and Mendez exchanged a long, charged look before Strike glanced at the others. “Okay, everyone . . . this is—” He broke off, glancing back at the newcomer. “Mendez? Snake?”

After a pause, the big man said, “I go by Dez.” His voice was surprisingly smooth for his bulk, more rich baritone than bass. He scanned the crowd. “It’d be ridiculous to say ‘Don’t let me interrupt,’ so I won’t. Instead, I’ll say thanks for having me, and I look forward to meeting the rest of you after the ceremony.” He was looking at Brandt as he finished, as if he had recognized him as another Triad mage, and from there made the connection to Woody.

Brandt tipped his head. “Glad to have you.” Patience was pretty sure he meant it too.

For her part, she couldn’t get past the feeling that there was something a little too easy about Dez’s conversion. Then again, Triad magic was powerful stuff. She supposed it was possible.

As Strike had implied, they would let time tell on this one. Still, her fingers itched for her star deck.

She wondered what she would get if she asked about Dez. Would he be the Chuen trickster, sent to shake them up, or would she draw the Oc card, which symbolized breakthroughs and new beginnings?

Or something else entirely?

Strike began the funeral rites, and she focused on the ceremony as he invoked the gods and his kingship, and then ritually praised Woody for his strength and sacrifices, both those he had made in his life and the ultimate sacrifice of his death.

As Strike spoke, Harry and Braden joined the circle, fitting themselves between her and Brandt.

Braden kept looking up at Brandt to see if he was doing things right. Harry, on the other hand, had his eyes fixed on the mortuary bundle.

What do you see? Patience wanted to ask him, certain somehow that he was perceiving something more than human-normal. She wished she could spend longer with him, with them both, but that time would come. One year, three hundred and sixty-five days, she thought, only then realizing that she had started to count, not to the zero date, but to the day after that, when the new cycle would—gods willing—begin and life would go on.

When the time came, Brandt held out the torch to Rabbit, who lit it with a quick burst of fire magic and stepped away. But Brandt waved him in. “Get your ass in here. You’re part of the family.”

Rabbit’s quick surprise was followed by a rare smile. He nodded and stepped into the group as Patience, Hannah, Harry, and Braden all added their hands to the torch Brandt held. When Rabbit too was gripping the torch, they together touched it to the edge of the pyre. The fire caught and spread quickly, with Rabbit giving a little pyrokinetic encouragement. Within minutes the whole thing was ablaze, driving back the circle of mourners.

The gray smoke spiraled up into the sky, twining tendrils of gray amid puffy winter clouds. Two tendrils crossed, darkening for a moment. When they parted again, an eagle flew where there hadn’t been one before.

“Did you . . . ?” Patience trailed off.

“Yeah. I did.” Brandt glanced at his forearm as if just realizing that he was now the only person on the earth plane who wore the mark of the eagle bloodline.

“Oh.” Hannah’s soft exclamation drew their attention back to the sky, where a dozen other eagles suddenly winged out of a cloud and bore down on the lone eagle. They split to surround the single bird, and then the thirteen eagles flew together, arrowing up into the sky, into the clouds . . . and disappearing.

“That didn’t just happen.” Patience’s voice was thick. “Eagles don’t flock. They’re loners.”

Brandt slipped an arm around her waist and leaned into her. “Not today, they’re not.”

It was a long time before anyone said anything else.

Then, too soon, it was time for Hannah and the boys to hit the road. She had insisted on taking one of the Jeeps rather than having Strike ’port them, staying off the magical radar from the very beginning. She and Carlos planned to ditch the vehicle by night-fall; Sven would track the GPS the following day and retrieve the Jeep . . . and Hannah, Carlos, Harry, and Braden would be in the wind.

Gone.

Most of the teammates said their good-byes on the way back to the mansion, including Rabbit, who had to snuffle back tears as he hugged the twins good-bye. That left just Patience and Brandt to accompany Hannah and the boys out to the looping driveway at the front of the mansion, where Carlos was going to meet them with the Jeep.

While Brandt took the boys a few steps away and crouched down, talking to them earnestly, Patience threw her arms around Hannah. “Take care of them,” she whispered. “And you take care too.

Be good to yourself.”

“I will. I promise.” Hannah hugged her back fiercely. But when they parted, the winikin’s eyes glittered with a mixture of hurt and anger. “He didn’t say good-bye.”

Patience nodded. “I know.” For all that Jox had followed Hannah with his eyes when she wasn’t looking, he hadn’t spent any real time with her. Worse, he’d made only a brief appearance at the funeral, and he’d slipped away once the good-byes started.

Granted, the royal winikin had a heavy burden of responsibility to his blood-bound charges and as the leader of the winikin, and he’d had to prioritize those duties over Hannah. But as far as Patience was concerned, their situation might suck, but that didn’t give him the right to be cruel.

“You should go after him,” she said. “If nothing else, you could corner him, kiss the hell out of him, and have the satisfaction of imagining him pining after you for the next two years.”

One corner of Hannah’s mouth kicked up. “I tried that a long time ago. It didn’t help.”

The Jeep cruised around the corner of the garage then. Seeing the vehicle, the twins strangle-hugged Brandt and bolted for Patience.

Faced with the reality she’d been trying not to think about, she sat on the paved pathway as her legs practically gave out. She opened her arms to her sons and gathered them close, trying her best not to clutch too hard and freak them out more than they already were. When they drew away, faces solemn and swimming with tears, she said to Braden, voice cracking, “Promise me you’ll behave for Hannah and Carlos?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

“And you’ll look out for Harry?”

“Of course.” His look of offense cheered her immeasurably.

She turned to Harry. “Promise me you’ll get in trouble every now and then? Not big trouble, but some little, fun trouble.”