her will to move. Her feet grew roots, her fingers curled around his, and for a second it was like they were connected, not just physically, but mentally as well. She could feel the pulse of his heartbeat alongside her own and could faintly sense the humming magic within him, throbbing just beyond the threshold of her understanding. Heat kindled in her core, a potent mix of awe and excitement that urged her to go to him, be with him, bind herself to him, and give him—
No! Wrenching herself out of that litany, she tugged away, breaking the palm-to-palm contact with a sharp jerk that drew too many eyes.
Aware that they couldn’t cause a scene, she made herself smile, made herself reach up and cup his cheek, which was smooth beneath her overheated palm.
His eyes were hard and hot, churning with the magic she had felt within him. “What just happened?” he grated, voice low. But his expression said that he knew. They both knew.
She said it anyway. “I think it was the First Father’s magic acknowledging a winikin swearing to protect her Nightkeeper charge.” Damn it all. She glanced at her wrist and exhaled a small, relieved breath to find that she still lacked the aj winikin mark.
“That promise goes both ways,” he said quietly.
Maybe so, but the magical bond put on the winikin was a one-way street, and it wasn’t one she wanted to travel.
Making herself move by force of will, she took a big step back, smiling brightly and pitching her voice to carry. “No, you go ahead and look around, and I’ll get the drinks. I’ll be back in just a second.”
The last few people who had been paying attention to them—mostly bored spouses looking to liven up the evening with a good fight—went back to their own business.
Sven gave her an intense look of we’ll talk about this later, but nodded and stuck to their roughed-out plan. “No ice in mine.”
She rolled her eyes like she’d heard that a thousand times, and with that little exchange, they fell entirely off the radar screens of the humans surrounding them.
Cara headed for the bar area, slipping easily through the crowd. She didn’t draw nearly the amount of attention he did, though a few male heads turned as she approached, then pivoted back when she was gone. One of the guards gave her a once-over and a small smirk that she didn’t want to think about, while two of the others looked through her as she passed where they were stationed near the premier pieces of the showing.
A set of low, wide stairs fanned out from the two exits nearby; from there, she had a clear view of the ballroom and was close enough to three of the four guards to keep a close eye on them. Sven would have to watch out for the fourth himself. Not that the Nightkeepers couldn’t get them out of trouble if things went wrong, but it was better to keep things as quiet as possible.
Right now, things were looking nice and quiet. The crowd was starting to thin as couples headed for the dining room, the guards were vigilant but relaxed, and Sven was alone by the display case that held the screaming skull. From there, he could use low-level magic to make the switch, and then they would find a private spot on deck for the higher-level magic he needed to send the thing back to Skywatch.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up, found her, and sent her a where is my drink? gesture. They were on plan, on point, and good to go.
So why was her pulse pounding? More, why did it feel like she was still down there on the floor, surrounded by people while she stood in front of a display case?
You’re talking yourself into this. There’s nothing to be worried about. Just breathe. Everything will be fine.
“How’s it look?” his voice murmured in her earpiece, creating an odd disconnect from the scene because she couldn’t see his lips moving.
Far less adept with the communication device, she pretended to look out the door while she answered, “Seems clear.”
“Seems clear or is clear?”
She took a deep breath. “You’re good to go.” Please, gods.
Turning back, she kept an eye on the guards, the crowd, and Sven himself as he lingered a moment longer in front of the screaming skull, leaning over the step-sided display case as if studying the piece in detail. Sudden heat flared through her body, wringing a gasp that caught the nearest guard’s attention at the very moment that her oversize evening bag suddenly bulged and grew heavy. Then the heat was everywhere—inside her, all around her, not burning her but instead making her head spin. Her vision blurred and she wobbled.
“Ma’am?” The nearest guard took a step in her direction. “Are you okay?”
No! She couldn’t screw this up, not now. Fighting through the haze, she clutched the bag to her chest when it threatened to slip from her fingers. “Seasick!” she blurted. Then she hunched over, channeled all of the oh, crap, I’m going to puke faces she’d seen on the whale-watch boat, and bolted out the door.
She hurried along the railing and then up the first set of stairs she came to, then another, heading higher and higher until she reached an open observation deck that was mercifully deserted. Sinking back against the nearest wall, she concentrated on breathing.
Holy shit. What just happened there?
Pull it together. Breathe. Focus.
Footsteps rang on the stairs coming up, but her instincts—or rather, the bond created by the coyote glyph she wore on her wrist—told her it was Sven. This time the burn was one of unease.
“Sorry,” she said when he joined her in the small niche, crowding her back against the door with a broad- shouldered body that all but blocked the light. His protective stance settled her, smoothing out the edges. But at the same time it made her more aware of her screwup. “I didn’t mean to draw attention like that.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was a nice distraction, and if it comes to questions, people are going to remember that you were by the far exit, nowhere near the skull. Hey.” He caught her chin in his hand and tipped her face up into the light. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I…” She trailed off as a long shudder racked her body. “Shit. Sorry. I think… Damn it.” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but didn’t see an alternative. “I think that because I don’t have the aj winikin mark to balance off the coyote glyph, the bond is acting funny. I caught the backlash of the magic when you sent me the skull, and it just about knocked me on my ass.”
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“That’s because it only goes one way.” She tipped a thumb from her chest to his.
“Not from where I’m standing.”
“Tell that to the magic,” she said, her voice threatening to crack.
“Cara—”
“Not now. We need to stay focused.” She held out the bag. “Let’s get this bad boy headed home, okay?”
He hesitated, then went for the knife he’d hidden in an ankle sheath. “Hand it over.”
The carving was heavier to hold than it had felt in the bag, and oddly warm to the touch, the stone slick and smooth. Her heart thudded in her chest as Sven blooded his palms and said the spell words that jacked him into the barrier’s power. Then he took the artifact from her, held it in both hands, and closed his eyes in concentration.
The skull vanished with a huge thunderclap and lightning flared overhead in a jagged slash that broke the sky. Which shouldn’t have happened.
Cara choked off a startled scream and spun, then gaped at the sight of dark, angry storm clouds where there had been a clear sky and stars only moments before. Oh, gods. Had the Banol Kax tracked his magic? Were they somehow using the weather to attack?
Sven shouldered in front of her, using his body to shield her from a sudden whip of wind. “What the fuck? Where did that— Get down!” He pushed her back into the lee of the wall, crowding her into a small, sheltered space. Heat raced through her in a magical backlash, and suddenly the air around them sparkled faintly red-gold. She didn’t have time to marvel at being able to see his shield spell, though, because the sky suddenly flared with another huge bolt of lightning.
It ripped straight for them and slammed into the ship, making the huge vessel lurch and wreathing the observation deck with an eerie blue-white glow. There were shouts and screams from below, where the main
