But he shook his head. “Cara… I can’t. I’ve got to go with my gut on this one, and it says I need to be true to my bloodline.”
She tried not to hear the echo of her father’s voice in that, tried not to think he’d finally come between them for good. Because this was it. She’d given Sven his last chance to prove that he could stick it out and be the kind of man she knew he could be, and he was blowing it.
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Please.”
His eyes glistened. “It’s already done.”
As if on cue, the compound’s alarm system gave a two-note bleep-bleep of warning. It was time to go.
She instinctively clutched at her wrist, as if covering her mark could prevent him from blocking her out. For a second, she thought he was mistaken; the glimmer of connection was still alive. But pain pierced her as she realized that it wasn’t the same. It was muted now, sluggish and still. A one-way street now rather than two.
Her wristband buzzed, followed by JT’s voice. “Cara? You copy?”
Eyes still locked on Sven’s, she raised her wrist to answer him. “I copy. We’re on our way.” Lowering her arm, she said stiffly, “We should go.”
“First, tell me that you’re okay.”
“No. I’m really not. But I will be.” She turned her back on him and headed for the rendezvous, hoping to hell they hadn’t just fucked things up for everyone else… and wishing that the day was already over, so she could go back to her room, pull the covers over her head, and weep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Candelaria Caverns
Guatemala
According to Lucius’s report, the Candelaria cave system had probably been the cradle of the ancient Mayan religion, because it was the one place that had all the elements symbolized by the pyramids: a mountain climb leading to a cave mouth, with a river inside it that descended down into the earth to a hidden tomb. And since the river was supposed to lead the dead to the afterlife, that made Che’en Yaaxil—a hollowed-out cavern buried deep in the forest and well off the radar screens of Candelaria’s tourists and researchers alike—a damn good place for a resurrection.
In theory, anyway. In reality, there was a big question mark all of a sudden, because where the Nightkeepers’ early scouts had reported that the place practically vibrated with power, it had suddenly become a dead zone, and not just of the radio variety. Yes, the communications were down because of the equinox’s power fluxes… but there also wasn’t a scrap of magic to be felt.
“You’re sure this is the right cave?” Dez asked, keeping his voice down so the others nearby—mostly winikin setting up the stone-shield perimeter—wouldn’t hear.
“It’s the one we saw in the vision,” Cara confirmed, not letting herself glance across the cavern to where Sven was helping with the setup. She was holding it together, but just barely, caught in a tug-of-war between grief and guilt, with a heaping side of anger—at him for not wanting her enough to fight for it, at herself for falling so hard that it had suddenly become all or nothing.
She was pretty sure the timing of the blowout had come from the magic, though. Maybe Carlos had been right that she had been reaching all along, that the signs hadn’t meant what she’d wanted them to.
“You’re positive this is the place,” the king pressed.
She nodded. The circular cavern, the irregular domed roof with the fallen-in spot that let sunlight filter through, the waterway and sandy beach were all the same. “This is where the nahwal told us we needed to be.”
“Okay. Then let’s do this, and let’s hope to hell the spell can bring the power level back up and that Rabbit didn’t damage the skull. Without his magic amplifying the uplink…” Dez shook his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”
Me too, Cara thought as Dez strode to the spit of dry sand, where the skull had been placed on a tripod altar made from carved bones.
“You okay?” Natalie asked, coming up beside her and sending a look in Sven’s direction.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me, and only because I’ve seen that look before in the mirror when JT’s being particularly irascible. I recommend chocolate, alcohol, a chick flick, and some target practice, not necessarily in that order.”
A laugh bubbled up in Cara’s throat, where it choked to a sob. “I think I’ll have to take a rain check. And I don’t… Damn it.” Sudden tears burned her eyes, and she turned away from the others. “I can’t do this now.”
“Are you sure? What if—”
“Don’t,” Cara said sharply, having already done the what-ifs herself. What if he didn’t make it through the op? What if she didn’t? What if they’d met as normal people doing normal things, and discovered fireworks? What if, what if, what if. “We’re at an impasse, and talking about it any more now would only distract us from our priorities.”
“That sounds like something your father would say.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t make it wrong.”
“Places, everyone!” Dez called, waving for the magic wielders to form an inner circle and the winikin to form the perimeter, along with the two magi who would be acting as their backup.
Cara’s eyes skimmed over Brandt and went to Sven, who was checking weapons and ammo. As if sensing her gaze on him, he looked up, and their eyes locked. She caught a flash of pain in his face, felt it in her soul, and, without thinking, took a step toward him.
“Go on,” Natalie urged. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, not right now.”
But then, from outside the cavern, Mac let out a shivering howl, followed by a flurry of furious barks. Sven’s head whipped around. And Cara’s heart sank as he hesitated a split second and looked back at her with heartache and apology written on his face. Then he turned and bolted for the short tunnel that led out of the cave, chasing after the sound.
And he was gone.
It was only a few seconds from the first howl to the moment he disappeared into the tunnel’s darkness. But Cara stood staring at the empty tunnel entrance for nearly half a minute. One part of her couldn’t comprehend that it had happened so quickly; another said it had been inevitable.
Oh, gods. It had really happened.
Dez waved for Patience to join Brandt in the winikin line, and she did so without missing a beat, which told Cara that the king had known about Sven’s visions, probably before she did. That should have hurt far more than it did, but it seemed that the parts of her that handled grief and pain had overloaded. She felt dead inside. Dull. And so very cold, partly from shock and partly because there wasn’t any warmth coming through the connection anymore, not even a trickle.
“Cara, sweetie…” Natalie reached out and clasped her arm.
“I’m okay,” Cara said, though that was a lie. “He warned me this would happen.” She hadn’t believed him, though. Somewhere deep down inside, she must have told herself that it wouldn’t come to this, or that if it did, he would stay with her.
Apparently parts of her were still seventeen and stupidly optimistic. Or they had been. She could feel them now, dying inside her as she turned away from the tunnel mouth and focused on her team. Hers now, because she no longer had a coleader, no check to her balance. It was going to be up to her to lead the winikin, up to them to protect the magi.
And Sven… Gods, please keep him safe. But that was the only thing she would ask for when it came to him, because she had a job to do and a team to lead.… And he had just bailed on her for the last time.
Sven ran along a narrow game trail in the rain forest, searching, searching. There! Up ahead, a flash of movement, a stir of leaves, and then gone. Lungs burning. Close now, but where?
The vision blurred to reality and then back again, making him feel desperate and schizo. He ran on two legs,
