Nightkeepers

separate the man from the sorcery or his upbringing, and if he believed the dreams meant the gods intended them to be together, that was the direction his brain was going to go, whether or not they were compatible. And aside from the whole save-the-world thing, she was enough of a girl to want him to want her, not just the woman the gods had shoved at him.

Though she’d ended her share of relationships, she’d heard enough of the old, ‘‘it’s not you, it’s me,’’ to know that it really was her most of the time. She was too much work for not enough payoff, too judgmental, too driven by the job and her own concepts of right and wrong.

Was it so much to ask for a guy who wanted those parts of her, too? One who was willing to fight for her, not just against their common enemy, but against the tenets that said they couldn’t be together?

And that brought her right back to the thirteenth prophecy and the whole, ‘‘I’d love you but then I’d have to kill you’’ thing, which just sucked beyond sucking.

Trying to banish the faint suspicion that his interpretation of the thirteenth prophecy was a cosmic version of, ‘‘it’s not you, it’s me,’’ Leah pushed through the doors leading from the pool deck to the mansion’s great room, intending to hunt up Jox and pass along Strike’s message.

The winikin was waiting for her just inside the door, wearing jeans, a light-colored long-sleeved shirt, a pair of rope sandals, and an expression that said he wished she’d just go away. Permanently.

‘‘Oh.’’ Leah stopped in her tracks, feeling off balance. ‘‘You’re here.’’

‘‘I was headed out to check on Strike.’’ The winikin moved to push through the door.

Leah blocked him. ‘‘He’s fine. Told me to tell you to assemble the trainees for a meeting.’’ Jox just stood and glared and she did the same, and though she hadn’t intended the standoff, she figured they’d been headed there all along. ‘‘Go around me or go through me,’’ she said evenly. ‘‘But I’m not moving.’’

The winikin’s mouth went tight. ‘‘The barbecue was a good idea, as was the name.’’ It took her a moment to realize he’d actually said something nice to her, but he blunted the shock by saying, ‘‘That doesn’t mean I think you’re good for him.’’

That stung—especially given her and Strike’s recent conversation—but she didn’t let Jox see that he’d scored. Instead, she said, ‘‘The trainees, Jox. Now.’’

He held his glare for a five-count before he said, ‘‘They’re in the training hall. I’ll go tell Strike to meet you there.’’

Then he brushed past her, and even though he’d been the one to leave, Leah felt thoroughly dismissed.

Tears prickled at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to give him the satisfaction, keeping her head high as she marched through the mansion and out the other side, muttering imprecations under her breath.

Once she was outside and the double doors were shut at her back so he couldn’t see, she leaned against them and took a moment. ‘‘Damn it.’’

She’d tried to make friends with the winikin, knowing how important he was to Strike and the others. Failing that, she’d tried to negotiate a workable peace, and thought they’d made some progress in that department.

Apparently not, though she wasn’t sure what she’d done wrong. Probably something to do with Strike’s flying- serpent mark and her being human. And there wasn’t much she could do about that, was there?

Shoving away from the doors with a muttered curse, she strode to the steel-span building on the far side of the ceiba tree. Before she’d even entered the training hall, she could hear shouts coming from inside, and as she swung through the door she was figuring on a pickup basketball game. But the trainees weren’t playing, she saw the moment she was inside.

They were working.

Rabbit sat off in a corner, frowning as he kindled a red-orange fireball the size of his head and held it suspended between his hands. Brandt stood nearby, holding his palms up and out, as though he’d been frozen mid-mugging. Then Patience blinked back in, becoming visible standing opposite him with her palms pressed to his. Sven, Alexis, and Nate were war-gaming it in the middle of the football field-size room, spinning and feinting with blunted stone knives, three against one as Michael blocked the attacks with shield magic. The only one missing was Jade.

Holy crap, Leah thought, freezing in place. She’d seen bits and pieces of the magic before. Hell, she’d made a kitchen knife fly. But she’d never seen it all at once like this, couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be when they reached their full powers and learned to link up, never mind what it must’ve been like before, when there had been hundreds of magi fighting as a unit.

For the first time she thought she really understood what the massacre had meant, not just to the Nightkeepers but to the future of the world. And in understanding it, she thought she understood Jox a little bit better, too.

It wasn’t personal for him. It was all about the balance of power, and Strike would be far stronger paired with a true Godkeeper than with her.

‘‘Hey!’’ Alexis called, catching sight of her. ‘‘Leah’s here.’’

Where before her entrance would’ve earned her a perfunctory wave or two and some sidelong looks, now the others stopped what they were doing and headed in her direction.

Forcing herself not to back away, Leah said, ‘‘You’re all here. You’re practicing.’’ Which was obvious, but this normally would’ve been their break time, when they would’ve scattered to do their own things.

‘‘Strike wasn’t the only one who got a kick in the ass last night,’’ Nate said. ‘‘Jox got the other winikin in on it, too, and they let us have it.’’

‘‘Really?’’ Leah wouldn’t have guessed he’d been that far on board with the idea of rallying the troops. Then again, agreeing with her openly would’ve meant admitting he’d fallen down on the job.

‘‘They were right,’’ Patience said, her soft voice preceding her appearance as she shimmered back to visibility beside her husband. ‘‘Most of us were coming around to the realization that we’re running out of time and there’s