wound up exactly where he’d wanted him.
He had finally done something right.
“Thank Christ.” He rose, not quite steady, and rinsed the blood off his healed palms. The water was cool and somehow very real, making him conscious of the press of his boots into the floor, and the possibility that none of it would be around tomorrow if he didn’t keep doing things right. Sticking his head under the faucet, he took a drink and splashed his face. Then, knowing he had just enough time to hit the spare room and do some “ommmm”-ing, he straightened, finger-combing his hair back with the moisture, and—
His stomach dive-bombed at the sight of Myr standing in the doorway. Not just because his control was seriously shaky, but because her expression left no doubt that she had heard him and his old man.
She stepped into the kitchen and slammed the door. “Give me one reason not to tell the king what I just saw. And make it good.”
Fuck me. “Dez already knows.”
“He . . .” She leaned back against the door, expression going from confrontational to hurt, confused. “Did he order you to keep your mouth shut?”
“The two of us were the only ones who knew. And now you.” Which they both knew wasn’t the same thing. He could’ve told her, but he hadn’t.
“And he approved of you breaking the Boar Oath? Why?”
“I needed to trick Red-Boar into burning the last of the three orders before we got to Coatepec Mountain, or else I knew he would use it to make me defy Dez, or worse.” He paused. “He can’t let go of his gods, and I think it’s making him crazier than he started.”
“But you swore you’d stick with the sky gods. How is that not going against Dez?”
“I swore that I would refuse the false gods. As far as I’m concerned, the sky gods are the false ones, not Bastet, Osiris and the others.”
“You . . . damn. You’re right. Okay. Okay, yeah. I get it. But . . . shit, that was risky.”
“The wording was Dez’s idea.” But Rabbit was the one who’d pulled it off, using his old man’s fanaticism against him. If it hadn’t been for the sharp hurt in her eyes, he would’ve been feeling pretty damn proud of himself. As it was, he wished to hell he’d just told her. So much for him getting everything right this time.
He just hoped this wasn’t as bad as it felt. Not when just a half hour ago they’d been in bed together, almost talking about love, about the future.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Because he’s already threatened you. Because I was afraid you would get involved, get in trouble. Because I didn’t want you looking at him in full-on crazy mode and thinking that I have the same potential. “He’s a mind- bender. I didn’t want him picking up anything from you.” He paused. “I still don’t. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I swear I’ll watch out for him.”
Which just went to show that he wasn’t the only one who could twist a vow to suit himself. Frustration sparked, though he wasn’t sure if it was coming from him or the magic that hung thick in the air between them. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Myr. If anything happens to you—” He broke off, not wanting to imagine his world without her in it . . . or there being no world at all.
“I feel the same way,” she said softly. “But, Rabbit, you’re not giving me enough credit.”
“It’s not you who I don’t trust, Myr. It’s him.” And that was the gods’ honest truth.
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. Given the history between the two of you, I guess I can accept that. I don’t like it, but I can accept it.” She paused, then fixed him with a look. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me? Anything else that Dez knows that I don’t?”
Yes. No. Shit. He hesitated, then said, “I’ve had a couple of dreams. They’re like the vision we shared, with me in the old king’s head, you as the queen, and the two of us ready to open the intersection beneath Chichen Itza.” When she drew back, stung, he added, “There wasn’t anything new in them, really.”
“Dez knows? Of course he knows,” she said, more to herself than to him. “That was why he asked me about my dreams.” Twin spots of color rode high on her cheekbones. “Damn it, Rabbit. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t intentional. It was just that what little time we’ve had together this past week, I’ve wanted it to be just us. Not the war, not even the magic. Just us.” That, and he hadn’t wanted her worrying that he was hearing voices again, and thinking back to what had happened before. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to think about it himself. She didn’t look worried, though. More like she wanted to drop him in the nearest cenote. “You’re mad.”
“I’m . . .” She blew out a soft breath. “I don’t know what I am. Part of me says that I’m the one who said we shouldn’t go back to the way things were between us, which means I don’t get to get pissed that you didn’t tell me everything that’s going on in your life. We’re just sleeping together, right?”
“Ah, baby—”
She held up a hand. “I’m not finished. Because here’s the thing—there’s another part of me that says the last time you hid things from me, it was a really, really bad sign. I’m trying not to worry that the same sort of thing is going on here.” Her eyes filled suddenly; her voice broke. “Tell me it’s not happening again.”
“Gods, no!” He pulled her into his arms and held on to her while she gave a token protest. “I promise. Any oath you want, any sacrifice. Phee is gone. Anntah’s gone. It’s just me, I swear.” Which was true. And it would be good enough, as long as he kept his shit together.
She held herself stiff against him for a moment, then softened on a sigh. “I know. Damn it, I know.” Her arms came around him. “I know you’re not that guy anymore, and it’s not fair for me to keep going back there when we’re supposed to be moving forward.”
“Shh.” He wrapped himself around her. “I don’t blame you. I should’ve said something.” When her body shook with a sob, he stroked her nape, her back, any part of her he could reach.
She burrowed into him, her breath hot on his throat. “I just . . . gods, I’m a mess. I’m scared, and I don’t want to be scared.”
“It’s all going to be okay,” he said into her hair, though they both knew those were empty words. He tightened his grip on her, suddenly all too aware that the next time they saw each other, it would be time to ’port to Coatepec Mountain, signaling the beginning of the end. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.” She wouldn’t be beside him, but she would still be on the frontlines. He hated knowing that, even though he respected it. But, gods, he needed to believe she was going to be okay.
It terrified him how much he needed that, needed her.
She pulled away to look up at him. “Only if you’ll promise me the same thing.”
“You’ve got it,” he said, and kissed her before she could make him swear it in blood. The kiss was deep, warm and wet, with a sharp edge that he didn’t let himself think was good-bye. And after a moment, they drew apart, knowing there wasn’t enough time for more.
She glanced at her wristband. “We’re down to a half hour.”
“Better hurry if you want that shower.” And he needed all the time he could get to lock his head down tight.
“Yeah, I . . . yeah.” Reaching up on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek, and slipped through the door without looking back.
He moved to the window and watched her go, trying to memorize all of it: her curves, the swing of her hair, the natural swagger that had gotten more pronounced as she had gained confidence with the magic, and with herself. And, watching her, he knew the sad truth. She said she wasn’t brave, but of the two of them, he was the coward. Because only a coward would keep secrets from the woman he loved.
It was just that he’d fucked up so many things in his life, he didn’t want to fuck up the doomsday, too.
Myr cut through the rock garden behind the mansion, hoping to slip into the mage’s wing unseen. She didn’t notice Anna sitting there with her eyes closed and her amulet cradled in her palm until she had tromped halfway across the stonescape, totally disrupting the peace and quiet.
She crunched to a stop. “Shit. Sorry.”
Anna raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“Rabbit,” she said, figuring that was explanation enough. “But it’s stupid to be upset over him today of all days.”
“Maybe not. Maybe this is exactly when we need to be thinking about ourselves.”
