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Authors: Jessica Andersen
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binder was a short stack of papers that were clipped together at one corner. She flinched when she saw her name on the first sheet. But she couldn’t not read the note.
Dear Ms. Montana,
Rabbit said that you’d rather have this in writing to digest at your own speed, so here it is. When you’re ready to talk, dial 1313 on the intercom, and someone will come for you. At that point, it will be up to you whether to stay or go. If you choose to leave, you’ll wake up in the hotel remembering only that you turned down the job, and you’ll never hear from us again. But we hope you’ll decide to stay, because we badly need someone like you on our side right now . . . and Rabbit says you’ve always wanted to save the world. Stick with us and you’ll get your chance, gods willing.
“Oh, shit.” Reese sat back, crossing her arms over her churning stomach.
That was a seriously low blow, especially when it was those damned stories that had started her crusading in the first place. Back then, she had needed to believe that there were heroes out there, that someone was working behind the scenes to save her. She had been obsessed with Dez’s stories of the Nightkeepers, had pictured herself fighting at the side of a brave and powerful warrior who wore a familiar face. And when Fallon—then an ambitious young detective—had offered her a choice between relocating or helping the cops go after Hood, it was because of the stories that she had chosen to stay. That, and because it had given her a chance to fight, in her own way, at her warrior ’s side. But that was then and this was now, and . . .
Screw it. She kept reading.
You may have already guessed, but if not, here it is: We are the last of the Nightkeepers, and the doomsday war is here. The blue binder contains a rundown of our more recent history, including the massacre that left us scattered as orphans, being raised in secret by our winikin ; the events that led to our reunion three years ago; and the things we’ve seen and done since then. You’re in there. You impressed the hell out of me in that warehouse—even more so now that I know that you were trying to save Dez’s ass, and why. And you did a job for another of us, Patience White-Eagle, a while back. You found her sons and their winikin in hiding, and that should have been impossible.
“The bride,” Reese murmured, putting it together with the funny look the blonde had shot her back at the hotel.
She remembered the case clearly, not because she had met any of the players—it had all been done by remote control, highly hush-hush—but because it had been a rare challenge. Given that the client had provided her a last-known address, it should have been easy to find a sixty-something couple living with twin kindergarten-age boys. In actuality, she had sweated the job, eventually dumping everything else to focus on that one case, day and night, until she had cracked it.
The guardians had been winikin , she realized now, hiding a pair of Nightkeeper children. No wonder she’d broken a sweat.
The note continued:
Your skills are part of why we need you. We’re currently fighting a rearguard action against a Xibalban mage named Iago and the creatures he controls, and to do that we need all hands on deck, including Dez. Also, you’ll find that there’s a matchmaker inside most of us, because a Nightkeeper who has bonded with his or her rightful mate is so much stronger than before. I realize that you and Dez had problems, but—
“Oh, no. You’re so not going there.” Crumpling the three-page note, Reese shot to her feet and strode to the window. But the sight of all that wide-open space made her long to be back in the city. Any city.
She glanced at the door, then at the intercom. She could hit the magic number and make it all go away.
Instead, she looked down at the letter. The words “rightful mate” jumped out at her.
“Better brace yourself to be disappointed on that score,” she
Dear Ms. Montana,
Rabbit said that you’d rather have this in writing to digest at your own speed, so here it is. When you’re ready to talk, dial 1313 on the intercom, and someone will come for you. At that point, it will be up to you whether to stay or go. If you choose to leave, you’ll wake up in the hotel remembering only that you turned down the job, and you’ll never hear from us again. But we hope you’ll decide to stay, because we badly need someone like you on our side right now . . . and Rabbit says you’ve always wanted to save the world. Stick with us and you’ll get your chance, gods willing.
“Oh, shit.” Reese sat back, crossing her arms over her churning stomach.
That was a seriously low blow, especially when it was those damned stories that had started her crusading in the first place. Back then, she had needed to believe that there were heroes out there, that someone was working behind the scenes to save her. She had been obsessed with Dez’s stories of the Nightkeepers, had pictured herself fighting at the side of a brave and powerful warrior who wore a familiar face. And when Fallon—then an ambitious young detective—had offered her a choice between relocating or helping the cops go after Hood, it was because of the stories that she had chosen to stay. That, and because it had given her a chance to fight, in her own way, at her warrior ’s side. But that was then and this was now, and . . .
Screw it. She kept reading.
You may have already guessed, but if not, here it is: We are the last of the Nightkeepers, and the doomsday war is here. The blue binder contains a rundown of our more recent history, including the massacre that left us scattered as orphans, being raised in secret by our winikin ; the events that led to our reunion three years ago; and the things we’ve seen and done since then. You’re in there. You impressed the hell out of me in that warehouse—even more so now that I know that you were trying to save Dez’s ass, and why. And you did a job for another of us, Patience White-Eagle, a while back. You found her sons and their winikin in hiding, and that should have been impossible.
“The bride,” Reese murmured, putting it together with the funny look the blonde had shot her back at the hotel.
She remembered the case clearly, not because she had met any of the players—it had all been done by remote control, highly hush-hush—but because it had been a rare challenge. Given that the client had provided her a last-known address, it should have been easy to find a sixty-something couple living with twin kindergarten-age boys. In actuality, she had sweated the job, eventually dumping everything else to focus on that one case, day and night, until she had cracked it.
The guardians had been winikin , she realized now, hiding a pair of Nightkeeper children. No wonder she’d broken a sweat.
The note continued:
Your skills are part of why we need you. We’re currently fighting a rearguard action against a Xibalban mage named Iago and the creatures he controls, and to do that we need all hands on deck, including Dez. Also, you’ll find that there’s a matchmaker inside most of us, because a Nightkeeper who has bonded with his or her rightful mate is so much stronger than before. I realize that you and Dez had problems, but—
“Oh, no. You’re so not going there.” Crumpling the three-page note, Reese shot to her feet and strode to the window. But the sight of all that wide-open space made her long to be back in the city. Any city.
She glanced at the door, then at the intercom. She could hit the magic number and make it all go away.
Instead, she looked down at the letter. The words “rightful mate” jumped out at her.
“Better brace yourself to be disappointed on that score,” she
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