Dawnkeepers

mated, period. He didn’t want the responsibility of being Nightkeeper to her Godkeeper, when he wasn’t even sure he wanted her. Or, more accurately, he knew damn well he wanted her—he just wasn’t sure for how long, or whether he wanted her, or a fantasy woman who looked like her but acted totally different.

Alexis was still talking, but her voice was lost beneath the roaring that built in his blood. An image slammed into his brain fully formed, with sight and sound and touch and taste. In it, she was bent over the altar as she was now, with her hands pressed flat, as they were now. Only in his waking fantasy she was naked, and he was coming into her from behind.

He’d taken two steps toward her before he could force himself to stop, force himself to lower the hands he’d raised to strip her combat clothes away. Warned by the sound of his harsh, rattling breaths, she spun to face him. He expected her to smack him across the jaw or, knowing Alexis, throw a full-on roundhouse for his thoughts.

But he was wrong, he realized when he saw the flush riding high on her cheeks and the glitter in her eyes. She wasn’t pissed. She was aroused.

“Bad idea,” he managed to say as she advanced on him, still fully clothed, but wiggling inside those clothes in a way that reminded him of before, when they’d been lovers and blamed it on the magic.

She shook her head, seeming lit from within with excitement, with a power he’d never seen in her before as she said, “The world needs a Godkeeper.”

“Patience and Brandt are married,” he countered, telling himself to move away. But his resolve wasn’t as strong as it needed to be. It was weakened by the humming in his blood, the sparkle of power in the air, and the feel of her against him when she rose up on her toes so they were eye to eye.

Mouth to mouth.

Unable to do otherwise, he touched his lips to hers. She leaned into him, opening herself to the kiss.

The moment she did the chamber shuddered and heaved around them. And began to descend.

Nate cursed and hung on to her as the floor dropped beneath them. No, goddamn it! he shouted in his skull. Not us, not her!

He knew the theory: For a god to enter a Godkeeper, she had to be close to death, which brought her close to the gods. Then it was up to her mate to bring her back with the strongest of physical magic: the act of love. The sex would bind both man and god to the woman, linking them in an unbreakable three-way partnership.

To be chosen was the greatest honor in Nightkeeper lore. Yet if he’d been a teleport, he would’ve zapped them both the fuck out of there the moment the chamber started dropping down into the water table. He didn’t want this, didn’t want to be involved in a screwed-up cosmic business arrangement that exchanged sex for power. But the gods didn’t seem to care what he wanted, or whether he was ready for a mate, for the responsibility. He was a conscript, plucked up and press-ganged into a position that Brandt was so much better suited to, with his wife as his mate.

“The gods are fucking crazy,” he snapped, bracing his legs when the inconstant motion of the chamber rocked the floor beneath them. “Where’s the emergency exit?”

But the door was shut tight and there was no other way in or out. They were stuck there until a god’s power brought them out again. Assuming, of course, that the transition spell worked, they didn’t die in the process, and the god didn’t get stuck between the planes, as Kulkulkan had done during Leah’s transition. Which was a godsdamned lot of assumptions, as far as Nate was concerned.

Rock grated against rock as the chamber sped its descent. Alexis gave a low cry and clung to him, then seemed to realize what she was doing and tried to push away. He didn’t let her break free, holding her close until she stopped struggling and sagged against him, breath shuddering.

“I’m scared.” Her words were muffled in the fabric of his shirt, and nearly drowned out by the sound of the subterranean river that was being diverted by ancient mechanisms and magic, to fulfill the need of the gods.

“So am I.” He wrapped his arms around her, cursing the gods for taking away their free will, forcing them into a union they’d tried once before and failed to make work. He and Alexis weren’t prepared for this, hadn’t ever thought it would be them going through the ritual. He could only assume the problems between Patience and Brandt went deeper than he’d thought, or else the gods wouldn’t have bypassed them. Hell, if he and Alexis were better candidates for the spell, then the White-Eagles’ marriage was in serious trouble.

The chamber finished its grating descent, coming to rest with a resonant thud and a shudder. Scant seconds later jets of water burst from the carved skulls at the perimeter of the room. The skeletal mouths screamed the water, dousing Alexis and Nate instantly with fire-hose pressure and cold. There was no preamble, no steady build like the one Leah had described. This was a mad rush to fill the chamber. Either the gods were impatient or something was very wrong, Nate thought.

As in the fucking chamber’s broken wrong.

It wasn’t entirely clear how much of the die-and-be-reborn trick of the sacred chamber was magic and how much was thousand-year-old engineering, and that was a seriously chilling thought, because if whatever was in charge of the water flow had been broken in the cave-ins the tunnels had suffered during the fall equinox, then the chamber might not drain the way it was supposed to when the transition spell was complete.

Game over, he thought as the water climbed past his knees.

“What if this whole place is broken?” he said softly. The water was to their upper thighs now and the pressurized jets continued screaming from the skulls high above.

“It isn’t,” she said without hesitation.

“You don’t know that.”

“I have faith.”

“You want to have faith,” he contradicted, feeling dread curl. “But it’s too simple to say that what has happened before will happen again, or that it’s not a sacrifice if it’s easy. What if all that’s bullshit, just like every other religion out there, just a construct used to frame some commonsense rules?”

She looked as though she pitied him. “It must suck to be stuck inside a belief system like yours.”

“At least I’ve got a system,” he snapped. “You just let your winikin tell you what to think.” Inside, though, something said, What are you doing? He was being a jerk; that was what. And he was doing it because he was scared. The water was cool, almost cold, reaching past his chest and threatening to buoy him off the floor. He let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I take it back. I’m being an ass because I’m not sure what else I can do.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do at this point.” Her words were matter- of-fact, but her eyes were wide and scared, and she was trembling. Then the water snuffed the torches, plunging them into darkness. She gave a short scream, then muffled it.

He caught her arm and drew her close, making sure they could find each other in the darkness. The water wasn’t glowing, and there wasn’t any noise or wind, which didn’t match up with how Strike and Leah had described their experience. Those details only added to his worry that the chamber mechanism wasn’t working right.

If this was the end for them, he didn’t want the last thing between them to be anger. Softening his voice and gathering her close, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Lexie.”

Her voice went hollow and very small. “Me too.”

Working by feel and instinct, he found her lips with his in a kiss that was part apology, part wish that things had, in the end, been different for them.

Then the water closed over both their heads. He couldn’t hear the incoming rush anymore, couldn’t hear beyond the pounding of his heartbeat, couldn’t feel much of anything in the cool numbness except her lips against his. She hung on to him, her fingers digging into him for a moment, then two . .

. then loosening and falling away.

Wishing he’d done it differently, that he’d been a better man all along, he held Alexis close and pictured the woman of his dreams. He whispered her name and let himself imagine the impossible as he kissed her and let out the last of his air, resigning himself to death.

White-gold light detonated in his skull. And then he was falling.

Alexis returned to herself slowly, as if awakening from a deep sleep, though her body didn’t feel like she’d been motionless for long. She was aware of being wet through, and a little cold, with a hard stone surface beneath her and a heavy weight pressing on her from above. Water dripped somewhere nearby.