She took a deep breath and pushed back her sleeve, then hissed out a long, slow breath. Because her arm was bare, and she didn’t have a clue whether that was a good thing or not.
By later that afternoon, as Sven’s debriefing with Dez in the royal quarters headed into its second hour, the Nightkeepers knew three things about the attack: One, the blood-ward surrounding the compound hadn’t been deactivated to let the creatures through; two, there was no evidence of a magical hot spot within Skywatch that might’ve been used as a conduit to bring the creatures up from the underworld; and three, there hadn’t been any detectable power surges suggesting a spell other than Rabbit’s fire magic.
In other words, they didn’t have a fucking clue how the things had gotten in.
More, the brain trust—aka Jade, Lucius, and the Nightkeepers’ ancestral library—couldn’t figure out exactly what the attackers had been. They didn’t seem to have been true demons—too easy to kill; they were too big to have been demon-possessed animals of earthly origin; and they didn’t match up to anything else in the records.
So for the moment, Skywatch was sporting some serious motion and magic detectors, and everyone was staying armed, indoors and out, while trying to get back to business as usual.
“Sorry,” Dez said as he hung up the house phone after yet another update. “Where were we?”
The Nightkeepers’ leader was sleekly bald—a characteristic of the strongest magi of the serpent bloodline —and he wore a muscle shirt that showed off the hunab ku king’s glyph on his bulging upper biceps. With his black leather jacket slung over the back of a fussy sofa—a holdover from when the former rulers, Strike and Leah, had lived in the royal suite—and wearing ripped jeans and a studded belt, he looked more like a rocker than a king, but his eyes were piercing and intelligent, and his questions had made it clear that he’d studied all the reports Sven had e-mailed back over the past six months.
“I think we got through most of it,” Sven said, keeping his voice dead level and his face set, because that was the only way he could talk about the things he’d seen and done down south. A low whine came from the floor behind his chair, though, where Mac had finally settled.
Dez crooked a finger. “Let’s finish it, then.”
“After Sasha and Rabbit confirmed that the human hosts died during the very first stages of the xombi infection and the virus allowed the Banol Kax to control the body from that point on, we didn’t have a choice. We spent the next few weeks hunting and exterminating the infected villagers.” Sven paused, wishing he could spit the bitter taste from his mouth, swallowed it instead. “It’s been a month since the last report of a new infection. Rabbit’s friends down there will keep their ears to the ground and let us know if and when a new outbreak occurs… or something else happens.”
Dez nodded. “The demons need to get a foothold here on earth. With the xombis knocked back, they’ll regroup and try something else.”
“I’ll head back down south in a few days,” Sven said. “Between Mac’s nose and my magic, we’ll have a better chance of picking up on whatever they try next.” And he’d be out and moving, away from the hemmed-in box canyon and the training compound that might’ve been built to accommodate hundreds, even thousands, but somehow felt overcrowded with only seventy or eighty people rubbing elbows.
“Actually, I’d like you to stick around for a while.”
Sven smothered the wince that came when his bone-deep need to keep moving bumped up against the fealty oath he had sworn to his king. “You and Reese headed north?” The two were Denver natives, and had set up an urban center of ops in an old warehouse in their former ’hood. Sven had Skywatch-sat once or twice when the king and his mate had gone up to the city, keeping a Nightkeeper presence at the compound while the others were on assignment.
“Actually, I’ve got something else in mind.” Dez paused. “How are you getting on with Carlos and Cara these days?”
“Fine.” Or they would be fine once he had a chance to sit down with them. Yelling at Cara hadn’t been part of the plan, but he could fix it. He would fix it, all of it. He’d made that promise to himself.
Dez nodded. “Good, because I need someone on the inside.”
“Whoa.” Sven held up a hand. “Wait. On the inside of what?”
“The winikin,” Dez said flatly. “Those creatures came in during Aaron’s funeral, and it sure as hell looked like they were after the winikin, not us. I want to think it’s another sign that there’s some sort of winikin magic waking up, but the cynical side of me says there might be something more… as in, maybe one of them already found his—or her—magic and is using it against us.”
“Hang on. You think what happened today was sabotage?” Sven shook his head. “No way. Not a winikin.” Even the rebels admitted that the Nightkeepers were humanity’s best chance of surviving the war.
“Rabbit said it didn’t feel like any magic he recognized. And they all got their bloodline marks, even without the ceremony. That says magic to me.”
“But… shit.” His brain raced even as his instincts kept saying, No way. “The First Father turned the slaves who escaped with him from Egypt into the winikin, right around when they came to this continent. That was way before the magic split into its light and dark halves. So whatever power they’ve got—if anything—would be related to the ancestral magic, which Rabbit would recognize.” He paused. “And even if you’re right and a winikin could summon those creatures, what would be the point? You said it yourself—they seemed to be targeting the winikin. Besides, if they were supposed to attack the Nightkeepers, why go after us this close to the end date? Are you saying you think one of the winikin is in league with the Banol Kax?” Because, shit, that was a hell of an accusation. One that, if it got out, would fuck any hope of solidarity.
“Not necessarily.” Dez was silent for a moment, no doubt deciding how much more to say. He and his mate, Reese, were as tight-lipped as they were brilliant strategists, and they formed a closed unit at the top of the hierarchy—some thought too closed at times. After a moment, though, he said, “Look at the history. A thousand years ago, the Xibalban sect split from the Nightkeepers and took the dark magic with them because they believed the Nightkeepers had it wrong, that the sky gods were the ones who wanted to take over the earth and the Banol Kax were the good guys, right?”
“So Rabbit would have us believe.” Ever since a run-in with a dying Xibalban shaman the year before, Rabbit had been trying to get the Nightkeepers to seriously consider that their long-ago ancestors had been tricked into believing in the sky gods. “You don’t think he’s been experimenting with dark magic again, do you?”
Dez shook his head. “No. My gut says he’s toeing the line. But who’s to say there’s not another group of Xibalbans out there? We went from thinking they all died out in the fifteen hundreds to thinking Iago and his red robes were the last of them… only to discover that Iago’s people were a nasty offshoot of an original, relatively peaceful sect. What if there’s another offshoot out there? And what if they got to one of the rebels?”
“I don’t see how that could be possible. Rabbit scoured the area a couple of years ago looking for information about his mother, and then did the rounds again when the xombi virus hit, trying to find a cure. If there were other magic users out there, he would’ve ID’d them by now.”
“We’re not in the highlands.” Dez gestured to the compound surrounding them. “What if there’s another group like us, more peaceful than Iago’s crowd, but that believes in the underworld as strongly as we believe in the sky gods?”
“We would’ve seen something by now, and you know it.” Sven paused. “So why are you hearing horses and trying to talk yourself into zebras?”
The king exhaled heavily. “Because we know how to fight the Xibalbans, and we could even handle a traitor or two… but the Banol Kax scare the crap out of me. If that’s what broke through here today, we’re in deep shit. So right now, yeah, I’m hoping for stripes.”
Sven wished he had a joke at the ready, one of the quick toss-off lines that used to come so easily for him. But those days were gone. Now he could only shake his head and say, “Better not let the others hear you talking like that. You’re our crazy-brave king who’s not afraid of anything.”
“Unless we get some more weapons in our arsenal, crazy-brave isn’t going to be enough.” Dez’s expression fell back into its usual resolute lines. “But we’ll soldier on and keep pushing the boundaries. It’s all we can do, right now.” He paused. “Which brings things back to you. Are you willing to lean on Carlos and Cara for intel on the winikin—especially the newcomers—without letting them know what you’re up to?”
Shit. He didn’t want to… but he could see the king’s point. “You’re not making it an order?”
Dez shook his head. “The way I see it, they’re the only family you’ve ever known, so I don’t want to force you to spy on them.” His lips quirked. “Besides, the last time I gave you a winikin-related order, things didn’t go
