Blood Spells

get that. But let’s not do this right now. We need to focus.”

She flinched almost imperceptibly, but held her ground. “If you can’t see that the lack of balance in our relationship is affecting your judgment—and potentially our ability to go after the boys and winikin—then you’re the one who’s not focusing.” Her eyes softened. “Don’t you get it? You don’t get to decide what’s best for everyone else, least of all me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not trying to run your life. I’m trying to figure out how to save it.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me. I’m not the kid you married anymore.” She paused. “The way I see it, things started going wrong when I got my warrior’s mark and entered full-on battle training. The more I started having opinions, and the more we were expected to work together as a mated warrior team, the more you checked out on me.”

He clenched his teeth. “That was backlash from Werigo’s spell, damn it.”

“I wanted to believe that, I really did, but let’s face the facts: You pursued me in Cancun even knowing that you shouldn’t, and you’re refusing to retake the oath now because all the signs indicate that I’ll be the gods’ choice. If you can ignore those imperatives, then you damn well could have done the same with feeling that you needed to push me away. It doesn’t make any sense that you would go along with your subconscious unless it was telling you something you wanted to hear. Which means you wanted that distance.”

“That’s—” bullshit, he started to say, but broke off. “Can we please focus on getting our asses to El Rey and grabbing the boys and winikin before Iago gets them underground?”

She met his eyes. “The stronger we are, the better chance we have to rescue them. And, outside of you retaking the Akbal oath, the only way we can make ourselves stronger is to fully reopen the jun tan.”

Finally, something concrete. He thrust out his hand, palm up. “Fine. Let’s uplink and get it open.”

But she shook her head. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

Acid burned in his gut. “Then tell me how you think it does work. Give me something specific, damn it! I’ll do whatever you want—just tell me what you need from me.”

She met his eyes. “Accept me for who I am today, not who I used to be. Make me your partner instead of your backup. Trust me to take care of myself during a fight. And do everything you can to save Harry, Braden, and the winikin. Period.”

His blood chilled. “In other words, retake the Akbal oath. You want me to prove that I love you by sacrificing you.”

“If the gods want me, they’ll take me.”

“I can’t—” He broke off, swallowing hard. This was why he hadn’t wanted to get back into this argument. Because she wasn’t wrong. But he didn’t think she was right either. “Not yet,” he said. “If it comes down to it, I’ll say the words. But not now. Not until we’re sure there isn’t another way.”

She wanted to keep arguing; he saw it in her eyes. Instead, she nodded. “Okay. I don’t like it, but okay. We’ll do it your way.”

“It’s not about doing things my way, damn it.”

Her look said, Isn’t it? He would’ve liked to think the words came through the jun tan link, but his forearm mark was cool, and for all the times she had accused him of being distant, now she was the one who seemed very far away as she crossed the circular chamber, knelt before the chac-mool, and bowed her head.

After a moment, he joined her there. But instead of a prayer, all he could come up with was, Come on, Rabbit. Hurry up and find that fucking doorway.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

El Rey Rabbit was sweating as he and Jade quartered the ruins of the El Rey palace, which was little more than a stone-outlined footprint of where the big structure once stood. They were blood-linked, which allowed him to enter her mind despite wearing the jade circlet, and they were doing their damnedest to blend his dark magic with her sensitivity to concealment spells. Michael and Sasha trailed them, weapons drawn, and the shimmer of his chameleon shield concealed them from the makol sentries Iago had undoubtedly posted in the nearby forest.

The flop sweat sliding down Rabbit’s back wasn’t from the warm sunlight, or even his churning worry that this particular cardinal day was poised to go really fucking wrong. It came from the fact that using his mind-bend to slant Jade’s talent toward dark magic was way too close to Iago’s ability to borrow other people’s magic. Rabbit didn’t like the squick factor brought by the comparison . . . or the skirl of temptation that licked at the edges of his mind.

Saamal had called him the crossover, but what the hell did that mean? Was he supposed to reunite the light and dark into its ancestral form? Michael used only the destructive, death-dealing aspects of muk. If Rabbit could harness the full power of the magic, it could be a huge plus for the Nightkeepers.

And—

And nothing, he told himself, aware that he was spinning into grand-plan territory, which tended to get his ass in trouble. Keep your mind on the godsdamned job.

“See anything?” Jade asked as they picked their way across a central courtyard that was outlined by crumbling pillars.

“Nothing. You?” They weren’t sure which one of them would see the dark-magic shimmer, or even if their combined efforts would work.

“Ditto.”

Glancing at the sky, Rabbit winced when he saw that the sun was a quarter of the way down to the dusk horizon. “It’s getting late. I still think we should try—”

“You’re not connecting with Iago. King’s orders, nonnegotiable,” Michael interrupted from behind them.

“But this isn’t—” working, Rabbit started to say, but broke off when he caught a quiver in his peripheral vision, like a heat shimmer, though it wasn’t that hot. He focused on the spot, which was near the palace’s back wall. There, three large stone slabs were inset into the ground, each of them approximately the size and shape of a coffin.

The one in the middle was swirling with the greasy brown smears of dark magic.

“I see it,” Jade whispered. “That’s got to be the second doorway.”

“Nice job.” Michael pulled his phone and summoned the others, who were there in five minutes, materializing in a hum of red-gold Nightkeeper power.

Almost before they were boots down, Patience broke the ’port uplink and hurried toward the doorway team. Brandt followed a couple of steps behind her, grim-faced. Rabbit cut a sharp look between the two of them, not liking what he saw. Over the past few days, their unique jun tan link had begun resonating in his perceptions. Maybe the magic hadn’t been as strong as it used to be, but he’d thought they were on the mend.

Now, they could’ve been strangers.

When Patience came up beside him, he whispered, “Did something else happen?”

“Just more of the same,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Don’t worry about us. We’re solid.”

He knew damn well that was an overstatement, but she had been there for him after his old man’s death, so he didn’t poke at her now. Instead, he took her hand and squeezed it. “We’re going to get them back.”

She nodded, swallowing. “Thanks.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Rabbit saw Myrinne’s expression sharpen. She was at the back of the group, wearing black on black and carrying a jade-tip-loaded autopistol, having finally, after eighteen months, won her way fully onto the team. He sent her a finger-wiggle, but wasn’t sure if she saw.

There wasn’t time for more, because Strike and Brandt moved up on his other side, and the king said,