Dawnkeepers

casual, “What’s Strike doing about Iago. Do you know?”

The casual part must not’ve come off like he’d hoped, because Jox sent him a sharp look. “Why?”

Rabbit shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Then ask him yourself.” The winikin nodded past Rabbit’s shoulder. “Hey, boss. Breakfast?”

“And lots of it.” Strike took the bar stool next to Rabbit at the big kitchen island and leaned both elbows on the marble countertop. “What’s up?”

The king was wearing a schlubby gray sweatshirt and jeans. The sleeves of the shirt had fallen back to reveal his big forearms, and the marks he wore on his inner right wrist: the jaguar, the royal ju, the teleport’s glyph, Kulkulkan’s flying serpent, and the jun tan beloved mark signifying his mated status.

It was an impressive array on an impressive forearm, and left Rabbit feeling small and inconsequential, which he hated like poison, because it was pretty much his fallback status.

Taking a deep breath, trying to play it like it was just an idea, like it didn’t matter really to him one way or the other, Rabbit said, “I think we should have the PI tag Mistress Truth’s credit cards, phone, and bank accounts.” His heart drummed in his chest, from nerves and need.

Strike’s gaze sharpened. “Why?”

“Myrinne got away from the fire; I know that for sure. But you said yourself you couldn’t get a

’port lock off my description. There’s no answer at the tea shop, and the bartender down the road said the place has been closed since the fire. Nobody back in New Orleans is looking for Mistress Truth too hard, because she scared the shit out of the neighbors, and the cops are way busy already.” And Rabbit hadn’t pushed because he hadn’t wanted to make too much noise, in case Myrinne needed to keep it on the down-low. “I think Myrinne might’ve made it back to the shop and lifted Mistress’s plastic.” It was what he would’ve done, and even from their short meeting he knew the girl had survival instincts.

“Maybe,” Strike agreed, nodding his thanks as Jox hooked him up with a mug of coffee. “But we need to find Iago, not Myrinne.”

Speak for yourself, Rabbit thought, but knew that wasn’t going to get him very far with Strike, especially not with Jox listening in. “She’s important.”

“To who, you?” Strike shook his head. “Forget about her, kid. Or if you can’t forget about her, then do your best to help us get through the next few years and then go after her with my blessing. Hell, I’ll even help you look.”

“She said she’d been dreaming.”

Strike went very, very still. “Of you?”

Rabbit shook his head. “Skywatch. She nailed it too, right down to the tree.”

“Well, shit.” Strike sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was trying not to admit he had a headache. “That complicates things.”

“We have to find her,” Rabbit insisted, not sure why or how he knew, but positive that it was nonnegotiable. Call it fate, destiny, or hormones, he had to see her again.

“I’ll call Carter.” Strike fixed him with a look. “But let us deal with it, okay? I don’t want you involved.”

A chill creepy-crawled down Rabbit’s neck. “Why not?”

Strike’s expression said, Because you’re a fuckup half-blood and I don’t trust your magic for a second. But aloud he said, “Because we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Given her association with the witch, there might be something in there that we don’t want inside Skywatch. Hell, for all we know this whole thing is a setup. I’ll find the girl, but until we know her story, I don’t want you anywhere near her. Got it?”

The too-ready anger that Rabbit battled on a daily basis flared before he was even aware of it building. Heat coursed through him, flooding his veins and begging to be set free. Forcing himself to remember where he was—and who with—he fought the temptation, tried to cap the anger. Knowing it was rude, he tapped the iPod on and popped one of his earbuds in, hoping the thumping backbeat would drown out the rage. It helped some, but not enough, and the fury had him snapping, “That’s fair.

You and Anna can have your human pets, but I can’t?” He knew he’d gone too far the moment the words left his mouth.

Strike set his jaw. “Watch yourself, kid.”

“Or what?” He jumped off his stool and gave it a boot, sending it skidding across the floor to fall on its side in the kitchen pass-through. He fisted his hands and dug his fingernails into the ridged scar on his palm, keeping the fire in check, though just barely. “You going to ground me? I’m already stuck here. Going to take away my privileges? Don’t got any. Take away my magic? Just fucking try it.”

In the beat of silence that followed his shout, the scene froze in Rabbit’s head as though he’d taken a snapshot or something.

He saw Strike sitting there, coffee halfway to his lips, surprise slapped atop the anger in his expression. Jox stood in the kitchen, his face a mix of disappointment and resignation. Those hurt some, because the winikin had mostly raised Rabbit while Red-Boar had lived in the past with his

“real” family. But even at that, Jox’d always made it clear that Strike and Anna were his first and top priority. The frozen tableau was completed by Leah, who was framed in the doorway leading to the residential wing, looking pissed, which suggested that she’d heard him call her Strike’s human pet.

That pinched, because she’d always been pretty fair with him, but still. Why did Strike get to bring his girlfriend into Skywatch, but Rabbit couldn’t bring his?

And okay, so Myrinne wasn’t his girlfriend. But there was something there; he was sure of it. He just didn’t know what yet, and wasn’t going to be able to figure it out if he went along with Strike’s plan.

Then Leah stepped down from the entryway and the scene snapped from freeze-frame to play, and Strike was getting up off his stool and advancing on Rabbit, his dark blue eyes hard and angry.

Rabbit braced himself to get his shit knocked loose. Instead the king stopped just short of him, his expression leveling out some when he said, “News flash, kid: I’m not your old man. I’m not going to ground you or call you names. What I am going to do is tell you to man the fuck up, stop thinking with your dick, and factor your teammates into this equation. You bring Myrinne here and things go south, what do you think happens?”

A big chunk of the anger died a quick death, but Rabbit couldn’t back down, couldn’t let it lie. “I have to find her. I can’t explain it; I just know I have to find her.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Strike paused and traded a look with Leah before he said, “I’ll have Carter look into it. Leah can call in a few favors too. Once they find her, we’ll see what the situation looks like and figure out the next step from there.”

“I want to go back to New Orleans,” Rabbit said, feeling all itchy and tightly wound. “I can help look.”

“I can’t spare you for that. I need you in Boston.”

Rabbit had braced for the argument, so it took him a second to reorient. “What’s in Boston?”

“Jade’s tracked down two more of the artifacts. Leah and I are working on one of them. I want you, Sven, Patience, and Brandt to go retrieve the other.”

“Oh.” Rabbit’s gut churned. Strike wasn’t just avoiding his demand to see Myrinne again; the king was also throwing him back together with Patience and Brandt. Bad sign. “In other words, you think their marriage is either fixed now, or so broken that having me around them won’t fuck it up any more than it already is.”

“No! Never that.” The protest came from Leah, who crossed the landing, righted Rabbit’s toppled stool, and perched on it beside her mate. She took his mug and snagged a hit of his coffee before continuing, “We know how much they mean to you. We wanted to protect you, not punish you.” She paused, letting him see the truth in her cornflower blue eyes. “We were trying to make things easier.

I’m sorry you thought otherwise.”

Shame coiled around the anger inside Rabbit, dimming the whole mess a little. He looked down at the floor. “Sorry about calling you Strike’s pet just now. If it helps, you’d be something cool, like a rottweiler.”

Amusement sparked in Leah’s expression, and she lifted a shoulder. “No worries. I don’t get mad. I get even.”

Rabbit grinned some at that, and she grinned back, and the two of them, at the very least, were okay.

In the moment of mental calm brought by forgiveness, his brain processed the rest of what the king had