Nightkeepers

Leah slammed on the brakes and was in the process of doing a one-eighty when he said, ‘‘We could both pretend we didn’t see each other, but that’s not really the point, is it?’’

She stopped and stiffened her spine before she turned. ‘‘And what is the point?’’

A piece of her really wished the two of them could find a way to get along. She admired the hell out of the winikin’s fierce loyalty to Strike and Anna, and the traditions of their culture. Unfortunately, it was those very traditions that put them at odds. She didn’t fit into his worldview. Never would.

He said simply, ‘‘Neither of us wants him to have to choose.’’

She stilled as he echoed the sentiment she’d been thinking only moments earlier. She gave a cautious nod. ‘‘Agreed.’’

‘‘So what are you going to do about it?’’ The winikin’s expression remained impassive, but there was something new in his voice, something that wasn’t usually there on the rare occasion he spoke to her. It sounded an awful lot like sympathy, which Leah didn’t like one bit.

‘‘Don’t go there,’’ she said. Please don’t go there.

‘‘Do you have an alternative?’’

She took a deep breath that did nothing to settle the sudden queasiness in her stomach, and looked away. ‘‘No.’’

After a silent moment, he said, ‘‘Self-sacrifice isn’t a sin to the Nightkeepers. It’s the ultimate way for a magic user to honor the gods.’’

She wet her lips, forced the words. ‘‘And wouldn’t that be convenient? It’d get me out of your precious house and leave the field free for one of the others.’’ She paused, hating the hollow ache that took over her chest at the thought. ‘‘Who would you hook him up with? Alexis? Jade? Someone else? Wonder if Ledbetter’s got a daughter.’’

‘‘It wouldn’t matter if he did,’’ Jox said softly. ‘‘It doesn’t take an itza’at to know that you’re it for Strike. If you die, he’ll rule alone.’’

Emotion was a brutal gut-punch that had tears welling. ‘‘Yet you’d rather that than have us try again to bring the god through during the equinox.’’

‘‘My duty is to protect the son of the jaguar king, and the Nightkeepers.’’ He glanced at her. ‘‘For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry.’’

‘‘Maybe Jade will find something useful in Ledbetter’s journal.’’

The winikin nodded. ‘‘Maybe.’’

But what was the likelihood she’d manage it in the next twenty hours or so?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Red-Boar stayed with Anna through the night, making sure she didn’t succumb again to the nahwal’s pull. Problem was, having him in her bedroom seriously freaked her out. The two of them had always rubbed each other wrong, partly because they understood each other too well. Now he was sitting in a chair next to her bed, wearing drawstring pants and a fleece, both in penitent’s brown. Like she was really going to fall asleep with him there.

‘‘I’m fine, really,’’ she said. ‘‘You can leave anytime.’’

‘‘And if the nahwal comes back, they’d have to come get me to climb inside your head and kick the bastard out again, which would take time you wouldn’t have.’’ He folded his arms across his chest, and she worked very hard not to notice the slide of muscle beneath the soft material of his shirt.

Forcing herself to focus on what he’d said rather than how he looked—and since when did that matter to her?—she said, ‘‘You wouldn’t be here unless you wanted to be, so ergo, you want to talk to me about something. So spill it, old man, and get out of my room so I can rest.’’

He scowled. ‘‘I’m only eight years older than you, for gods’ sake.’’

Damned if he wasn’t right, she realized as she did the math. He’d been married and a father at the time of the massacre, but he’d started young. ‘‘What do you want?’’ she persisted, knowing there had to be something.

He shoved a glass of juice across the nightstand in her direction, nearly dumping it on her. ‘‘Drink your OJ. You’ll need the energy.’’

‘‘For what, exactly?’’

‘‘I want you to go back into the barrier.’’

‘‘Wait.’’ She held up both hands, sloshing the OJ. ‘‘Whoa. I thought the point was to keep me away from the nahwal. Now you want me to go back in?’’

‘‘I’ll go with you.’’ He paused. ‘‘We need more information. ’’

Her skin chilled. ‘‘You can’t use the three-question spell until the actual equinox.’’

‘‘I know. That’s why I need you. The nahwal has marked you. It will come if you call, answer if you ask.’’

‘‘Maybe.’’ She paused. It didn’t take a flying leap of intuition to guess where this was going, what he wanted her to do. ‘‘But you need to get something through your thick skull right now. I don’t want to lead the Nightkeepers. I don’t even want to be here. Maybe instead of charging into the barrier, you should be asking yourself why you’re having so much trouble accepting Strike as leader.’’

‘‘Because he hasn’t accepted it himself,’’ said the older Nightkeeper—though he was right, damn it, that he wasn’t that much older than her.

Before, she’d been a teenager and he an adult. Now they were both adults, which gave her the guts to say, ‘‘You don’t have the right to make that call. The kingship passes from father to son unless the line is broken. It