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Authors: Jessica Andersen
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definable style. Her body was long and lean, yet subtly curvy inside faded bush pants and a too-big sweatshirt, and she was tall enough to look him in the eye. He’d gotten all that from the PI’s file.
What the file hadn’t told him was how the very air around her would snap with energy, or how alive she would be, how vital, when he hadn’t dared hope she would come out of her captivity in one piece, either physically or mentally. Thank you, Lucius , he’d thought, seeing the slashes on her palms. Their inside man-turned-traitor must have blooded her in an effort to jump-start her connection to the healing magic of a Nightkeeper. And damned if it didn’t look like it had worked, providing another point in favor of her having mage blood. He’d guess it was a strong bloodline, too, given how clearly she was thinking, how easily she’d moved . . . and how she felt in his arms as he doubled back along another steel-lined hallway.
His talent-sharpened hearing brought him the sound of quick-stepping bootfalls a couple of hallways over, and he paused to take a listen. Shit. They were between him and the other magi, they were headed his way, and there were a bunch of them. Outnumbered and cut off from the other magi, burdened with a mostly unconscious woman, Michael knew he didn’t dare fight them, though part of him thought otherwise.
Heart pumping, senses and reflexes sharpening as the footsteps drew nearer, he ducked into the shallow alcove created by a vaulted doorway and cast a chameleon shield that should conceal him and Sasha . . . assuming the Xibalbans couldn’t see through his magic. Then he shifted her to a fireman’s carry and pulled one of his MAC-10s, just in case they could.
Moments later, six heavily armed and armored, tense-looking gray-robes rounded the corner and headed along the hallway toward where Michael and Sasha were concealed. They got to work immediately, splitting into two groups and checking each room.
Michael stifled a curse, knowing there was no way they wouldn’t notice they were missing a doorway. Pulse thrumming, he braced himself to make a mess as they drew abreast of his position . . . and didn’t even glance over.
Apparently the chameleon shield didn’t just confuse light and sound; it confused perception and memory. Nice.
He didn’t have time to bask, though, because two of the men paused just opposite the alcove. “The master wants us to watch for the mick, and he needs the woman alive,” said the first, a lean-faced man with pale blue eyes and a hooked nose. “Once we’ve got her, he’ll bring her straight back to the mountain.”
The other guy—a shorter, squatter type with a wrestler’s face—shrugged, looking annoyed. “That’s assuming we find her. It’s like she fucking disappeared.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Hook-nose said as they moved off again. “The pilli are on their way. Won’t take them long to sniff out the Nightkeepers’ magic.”
Michael waited a minute longer, making sure they didn’t double back. When he was sure they were gone, he keyed on his throat mike and reported the convo to Strike and the others, finishing with, “Damned if I know what the mick and the pilli might be.” The only magic sniffers Michael knew of were the boluntiku , which were horrifying lava creatures from the underworld itself. “But I’ve got Sasha. Let’s meet up and get the hell out of here.”
“Easier said than done,” Strike answered. “The ambush team retreated and sealed the exits using some sort of central lockdown, so we’re stuck in here. Rabbit felt a pretty good surge of dark magic a few minutes ago, probably teleport, but we’re not sure whether Iago’s people were coming or going.”
“Shit,” Michael muttered, hoping to hell Strike was keeping a close eye on the kid.
During his imprisonment, Rabbit had traded Myrinne’s life for the red hellmark of the Xibalbans, which had connected him to their hellmagic.That meant the young man
What the file hadn’t told him was how the very air around her would snap with energy, or how alive she would be, how vital, when he hadn’t dared hope she would come out of her captivity in one piece, either physically or mentally. Thank you, Lucius , he’d thought, seeing the slashes on her palms. Their inside man-turned-traitor must have blooded her in an effort to jump-start her connection to the healing magic of a Nightkeeper. And damned if it didn’t look like it had worked, providing another point in favor of her having mage blood. He’d guess it was a strong bloodline, too, given how clearly she was thinking, how easily she’d moved . . . and how she felt in his arms as he doubled back along another steel-lined hallway.
His talent-sharpened hearing brought him the sound of quick-stepping bootfalls a couple of hallways over, and he paused to take a listen. Shit. They were between him and the other magi, they were headed his way, and there were a bunch of them. Outnumbered and cut off from the other magi, burdened with a mostly unconscious woman, Michael knew he didn’t dare fight them, though part of him thought otherwise.
Heart pumping, senses and reflexes sharpening as the footsteps drew nearer, he ducked into the shallow alcove created by a vaulted doorway and cast a chameleon shield that should conceal him and Sasha . . . assuming the Xibalbans couldn’t see through his magic. Then he shifted her to a fireman’s carry and pulled one of his MAC-10s, just in case they could.
Moments later, six heavily armed and armored, tense-looking gray-robes rounded the corner and headed along the hallway toward where Michael and Sasha were concealed. They got to work immediately, splitting into two groups and checking each room.
Michael stifled a curse, knowing there was no way they wouldn’t notice they were missing a doorway. Pulse thrumming, he braced himself to make a mess as they drew abreast of his position . . . and didn’t even glance over.
Apparently the chameleon shield didn’t just confuse light and sound; it confused perception and memory. Nice.
He didn’t have time to bask, though, because two of the men paused just opposite the alcove. “The master wants us to watch for the mick, and he needs the woman alive,” said the first, a lean-faced man with pale blue eyes and a hooked nose. “Once we’ve got her, he’ll bring her straight back to the mountain.”
The other guy—a shorter, squatter type with a wrestler’s face—shrugged, looking annoyed. “That’s assuming we find her. It’s like she fucking disappeared.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Hook-nose said as they moved off again. “The pilli are on their way. Won’t take them long to sniff out the Nightkeepers’ magic.”
Michael waited a minute longer, making sure they didn’t double back. When he was sure they were gone, he keyed on his throat mike and reported the convo to Strike and the others, finishing with, “Damned if I know what the mick and the pilli might be.” The only magic sniffers Michael knew of were the boluntiku , which were horrifying lava creatures from the underworld itself. “But I’ve got Sasha. Let’s meet up and get the hell out of here.”
“Easier said than done,” Strike answered. “The ambush team retreated and sealed the exits using some sort of central lockdown, so we’re stuck in here. Rabbit felt a pretty good surge of dark magic a few minutes ago, probably teleport, but we’re not sure whether Iago’s people were coming or going.”
“Shit,” Michael muttered, hoping to hell Strike was keeping a close eye on the kid.
During his imprisonment, Rabbit had traded Myrinne’s life for the red hellmark of the Xibalbans, which had connected him to their hellmagic.That meant the young man
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