your way.”
“Yeah. Okay.” They stood there for a moment that probably seemed longer than it really was. A dull headache thudded as adrenaline drained. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she said softly, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it back.”
And she was, really. The anticipation had been worse than the actual event. Sort of.
“Thanks. And Myr?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you were the one who got my magic. Of anyone, I’m glad it was you.”
She just nodded, doing her damnedest to hold it together. He was really her ex now; it was really over. Which shouldn’t have hurt but somehow still did, warning that some part of her had hoped, deep down inside, that when Red-Boar found him he’d be the old Rabbit, quirky and unexpected, and so thoroughly in love with her that he made her feel like she could do anything.
Thing was, she didn’t need a lover to be strong. More, the man standing opposite her wasn’t the guy she’d been in love with . . . but he also wasn’t the angry, strung-out stranger he’d been at the end. He was both of those men and neither of them, a grim, scarred version with stark, honest eyes that had new shadows, new secrets. She didn’t know this Rabbit, didn’t know how to deal with him.
Just walk away, she told herself. Be smart this time, and just walk the hell away. And, forcing her feet to move, she did exactly that.
Rabbit hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d never expected to see her again. But in his deepest, most secret fantasies—the ones he hadn’t even really admitted to himself—he’d never pictured her walking away from him.
She still cared—he’d seen it in her face, along with the shadows that said she didn’t want to care. Which meant . . . shit, he didn’t know what it meant, but he knew he didn’t want to leave it like this. Couldn’t. He went after her, boots digging into the soft sand outside the ruin as she headed for the bogged-down Jeep.
But the moment he started down the incline, Red-Boar came out behind him and grated, “Hold it right there.” And the bastard backed it up with a shield spell that he cast like a damn cage.
Rabbit banged off the invisible wall, cursed, and spun back toward his old man. “Stay out of this,” he warned. “It’s none of your damned business.”
Red-Boar was alone; the others hadn’t followed, though Rabbit didn’t know what that meant. His old man cast a long enough shadow as it was, as he strode to where the shield enclosed Rabbit, then leaned in close to growl, “It’s entirely my damned business. The gods sent me back to make sure you do your duty, and that doesn’t have fuck-all to do with patching things up with your girlfriend.”
Rabbit’s jaw locked. “We were mates.”
His father shot a pointed look at his forearm, which was bare of the jun tan mark. “Listen up, boy, and listen good. We’re both here by the gods’ graces, and for only one reason: To figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do that’s going to tip the balance of the war, and then make sure you fucking do it. So you need to focus on what’s important, and she’s not it.”
Which meant Red-Boar didn’t know dick about the crossover’s supposed powers. “She’s got my magic.”
“Lucius will find a way to fix that,” Red-Boar said, flicking his fingers to dismiss the detail, and Myrinne.
“Do you dislike her because she’s human, because she’s got access to boar magic, or because she was mine?”
“Me? You’re the one who thought she was a spy.” The old man’s eyes narrowed. “She’s always wanted power, after all. Now that she’s got it, she doesn’t want anything to do with you. Funny how that worked.”
“Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My head,” Rabbit said grimly, spacing the words between his teeth. In his peripheral vision, he saw Myrinne use her wand to telekinetically ease the Jeep back onto its tires and roll it up to the road.
“You want her, even love her, but you don’t trust her all the way when it comes to the magic,” Red-Boar said, digging in. “She’s always been attracted to it, always wanted it, even when getting it conflicted with the writs and your king’s orders. But she’s a hot piece of tail, and damn good at leading you around by your dick, so you followed wherever she led. At least until the end.”
“Fuck you.”
The Jeep’s engine fired up, grit spurted from beneath the tires, and Myrinne wheeled off, headed back in the direction of Skywatch and catching air on the first big bump. She went too fast when she was upset, he knew. And also when she was pissed. When she was happy. Pretty much any other time, too. She was a high-octane, life-in-the-fast-lane woman, and there was nothing wrong with that.
It didn’t make her a spy or the enemy; it just made her who she was.
Red-Boar stepped up beside him to watch the Jeep speed away. Changing tactics, he said quietly, like they were man-to-man and he gave a shit, “You should leave her alone. You’ve done enough damage.”
And the hell of it was, he was right about that one. Maybe she’d healed up stronger than ever, but that didn’t make up for what he’d done.
So he watched her go, and kept watching until the dust cloud disappeared. Then, exhaling, he turned back to Red-Boar, aware that the shield spell was gone and the others had ’ported away, leaving the two of them alone. “What do you want from me?”
“The same thing I’ve always wanted: for you to get your head out of your ass and behave.”
“According to whose rules? Yours?”
Red-Boar made a disgusted noise. “Just follow Dez’s orders, and when we figure out what the crossover is supposed to do, like I said, just fucking do it.”
Rabbit wanted to argue, but couldn’t really. The messenger didn’t matter so much as the message. He glanced back along the road, where the kicked-up dust had turned to a faint haze. “Phee showed me a vision of you and her living together in the rain forest.”
“Lies,” Red-Boar said flatly. “All of it.”
“Fine.” Rabbit rounded on him. “Then you tell me. Who was my mother? How did you end up with her? And why the fuck didn’t you leave me in the highlands if you hated me so much?”
Red-Boar spat in the dust near his feet. “Leave it alone, boy. The past doesn’t matter worth shit. This is one of the few times that what has happened before won’t happen again.”
“But—”
“Enough!” Red-Boar’s sudden bellow reverberated off the nearby ruin and sent a sand-colored lizard scuttling for cover. Lowering his voice to a growl, he said, “Get this through your thick fucking skull, boy. You don’t get to make demands here. If you want to get your ass back on the team, you’ll do as you’re fucking told. More, you’ll promise it on your soul. Remember, rescuing you was just the first part of my job. The second is to get you to swear an oath . . . not to the king—that’s not worth shit with you and we both know it. No, I’ve got a spell that’ll bind you to the eldest member of the boar bloodline . . . which means I’ll have your ass. I’ll control you.” He leaned in. “I’ll fucking own you.”
Oh, hell, no. A foul taste soured the back of Rabbit’s throat. “What if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll end it myself.” The old man’s expression didn’t change, like he was talking about supersizing his number three combo, not murdering his own son. “If we can’t use you, we’re sure as shit not going to let the Banol Kax have you.”
“Jesus.” For all that he’d remembered his old man as a colossal dick, the reality—if you could call a guy back from the dead “reality”—was so much worse.
“Think about it,” Red-Boar advised. “But don’t take too fucking long.” Glancing back at the ruin, he raised his voice and called, “I’m ready to leave.”
Moments later, Anna stepped out and headed in their direction. Strike must’ve taken the others back, leaving her to transport the stragglers. She didn’t ask how it had gone. Instead, she held out her hands. “Link up, and let’s get out of here.”
“He’s staying,” Red-Boar said flatly.
“Dez said not to let him out of my sight.”
“And I’m saying you’re going to.” The old man’s mouth thinned to a grim line. “The spell won’t work if his heart isn’t in it, and he needs to make his own choice. Besides, I found him once, I can find him again.” His eyes
