Storm Kissed Part 16

Then again, did she even know who that was anymore? She didn't want to go back to being the woman who had left Denver two weeks ago. She didn't want to be her dumb-a.s.sed nineteen-year-old self, either, or even the bounty hunter. She liked the work she was doing for the Nightkeepers-it was challenging, different, exciting, and, yes, she was helping save the world. Or trying to, anyway. The makol bite had been a sobering reminder of her mortality, but she'd never s.h.i.+ed away from danger. Just the opposite, in fact. But although she wanted to be part of the Nightkeepers' war, she wasn't sure Skywatch was for her. Or, rather, she wasn't sure she could stay there with Dez if she wasn't really with him.

She didn't know quite who or what she wanted to be, or what she wanted to have happen next, leaving her feeling off balance as she and Dez crossed the echoing warehouse, automatically avoiding certain areas without speaking. She couldn't stop herself from glancing at the far end of the building, though, or the place where a set of catwalks had once led to a series of tunnels. And when she glanced back at Dez, he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Maybe the past wasn't so far gone, after all.

When they reached the eastern entrance, he checked out the short hallway that led from the outer door and past a trio of offices before opening into the main warehouse. "It's clear," he reported.

"You should hide in one of the offices. Luc transferred in a few years ago, but that doesn't mean he won't recognize you."

He grinned wryly. "And even if he doesn't, I'm not exactly the kind of guy who gives a cop warm, fuzzy feelings."

Although he wasn't fully geared out in autopistols and extra ammo, he looked deadly enough in camo and boots, with a double layer of thermal s.h.i.+rts and a thin black jacket zipped over the top, the collar turned up to his jaw. They had argued over weapons-she was meeting with a friend, after all, and he had his magic on the off chance that any makol showed up. Still, she'd bet money that he had his knife on him somewhere, probably his .44 as well.

He c.o.c.ked his head in the direction of the outer door. "Showtime." Then he melted into the nearest office, becoming part of the shadows.

Moments later, she heard footsteps approaching.

She turned toward the door as it swung open, spilling pale winter light into the entryway and silhouetting her police contact. She started toward him, hand outstretched, "Luc, it's good to-"

She broke off as she realized two things simultaneously: One, it wasn't Luc. And two, she was in serious trouble.

Oh. s.h.i.+t.

There had been no warning from her instincts, no gut quiver, no nothing, leaving her caught flat-footed as a tall, distinguished man with dark hair and a frost of silver at his temples stepped into the light, carrying a neat manila file folder. He wore a familiar herringbone wool coat over a cool gray suit that made his eyes look very blue. And the Tweety Bird tie clip she had bought him on a whim, trying to remind him to lighten up.

Her mouth went dust dry, her voice to a weak thread. "Fallon."

"Reese." His eyes searched her face. "Sorry for the bait-and-switch. I didn't think you would meet me."

"I . . ." She trailed off, because he was right. She wouldn't have met with him, at least not with Dez standing right there, unaware that the ambitious young detective who had recruited them once upon a time was now an established high-ranker, dabbling in politics. And that he had been, for the past few years, her sometimes lover.

Her pulse hammered; her brain raced. If she could have grabbed the file folder and fled, she would have. But Fallon deserved better. He always had.

"I needed to see you," he said, voice rough. "And to ask you to reconsider. You don't want to marry me, I get that. But that doesn't have to be the end of things."

Reese heard a sharp noise from the office and felt pain pierce in the vicinity of her heart. "Yes, it does," she said, making herself focus on the man in front of her rather than the one hiding in the shadows. "It's time. Me moving back here didn't change the fact that we're in two totally different places. You're ready to settle down . . ."

"And you're not," Fallon finished for her. "I know. I just thought . . . well, I don't know what I thought. Can't we forget about that and go back to the way we were?"

She doubted she would ever forget that night: fancy dinner out, candlelight, wine, violins, and a handsome cop with his sights set higher, asking her to be part of his life, part of making the city a better place. The proposal had been perfect, the ring a gorgeous diamond set in pale yellow gold. And she had felt like she was suffocating. "I should've ended things a long time ago," she said softly, "so you could've gone out and found someone who can give you what you want."

"Youre what I want." He closed the distance between them, started to reach for her, then hesitated as if seeing her-really seeing her-for the first time: no makeup, a few pounds lighter, and back in black. Shaking his head as if telling himself to ignore the changes, he said, "I'll stop pus.h.i.+ng. Whatever you want, just tell me. No more pressure. I promise."

"You'd be miserable."

He gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Like I'm not now?"

"We need a clean break, Fallon. It's time. We can't do this anymore."

He went very still, tensing like a predator, suddenly all cop. "We," he repeated. "What happened to 'this is all for your sake, Fallon'?"

Guilt kicked. "Let it go. Please."

"This isn't really about a job in New Mexico, is it? All that stuff about watching the desert sunsets and searching your soul was all bulls.h.i.+t." He crowded her, face etched with raw pain and growing anger. "You met someone, didn't you? Someone who swept you off your d.a.m.n feet the way I never could."

Her pulse thudded in her ears but she kept her voice even. "The job is real, and it's important to me."

"I was important to you." He grabbed her wrist. "Who-"

Pain exploded as his fingers put pressure right on the half-healed makol bite, obliterating the rest of his question and nearly driving her to her knees. She gasped and sagged, scrabbling against his grip. He let go the second he realized she was hurting, but it was already too late.

A dark shadow moved up behind him. A .44 appeared at his temple. And a p.i.s.sed-off voice grated, "Back off. Right f.u.c.king now."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Dez didn't look at Reese; he couldn't, not now when he couldn't get hold of his own thoughts. Fallon was one of the good guys, d.a.m.n it. And even through the haze of anger clouding Dez's vision-at Fallon for going there, at Reese for not telling him-there was no question that the other man loved her. It was in his eyes, in his voice. He would protect her, care for her. And he had proposed. Probably even got down on one knee and did it right.

She turned him down, he thought. h.e.l.l, she broke up with him. But that didn't help, because he knew d.a.m.n well the breakup had happened because of the night he and Reese had spent together. That was the way her brain worked.

"You don't want to do this," Fallon said. "I'm sure she told you I'm a cop."

He hadn't recognized Dez's voice. That gave him the option of backing off, disappearing again, not bringing it all out in the open, which was what Reese's eyes silently begged him to do. h.e.l.l, he could drop the cop with a sleep spell and they would be out of there with the folder before the guy woke up. No harm, no foul. If Dez were truly the better man he was trying to be, he would do exactly that, and maybe even find a way to point her back in Fallon's direction.

Back off, he told himself, just as he had told Fallon moments earlier. But he didn't. He couldn't. Not anymore.

The past week had reminded him how it had felt to be the stupid kid who hadn't fully realized what he'd gained the day he'd s.n.a.t.c.hed her away from Hood. The guy he had been before the star demon's corruption. More, he had gotten to know the woman she had become, who wasn't the same as she would have been if they had stayed together. This Reese was quick-tongued and acerbic at times, but he liked that edge, just as he liked her self-sufficiency and the way she made him feel stronger just by being there. Before, he had waited too long and missed his chance. This time, he could very well lose her if the s.h.i.+t hit the fan and the artifacts came on line, unleas.h.i.+ng the curse of the serpent bloodline. But if that happened, he wanted her to know what she was walking out on. He wanted both of them to know.

So instead of backing off and disappearing, he gave Fallon a briskly professional pat, relieved him of his piece, emptied it, and put it back. "That'll save you the paperwork of reporting it gone."

Then, still keeping his .44 trained on the other man's melon, Dez stepped around him, into the light, and put himself right beside Reese. To his surprise, his heart thudded in his chest, making the empty spots feel full. He saw in the widening of her eyes and the flush that touched her cheeks that she knew that he was staking his claim. And if that made him a selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d, so be it. Maybe he wasn't as cured as he wanted to think.

They would hash that out later, though. Right now, they had a cop to deal with.

Fallon's face-more lined than before, but still bull-tough and square-jawed-went utterly blank for a two-count. Then it flooded with fury. "Mendez." Coming out of his mouth, it sounded like "motherf.u.c.ker," but his eyes hollowed out like he was looking at a ghost. Which in a way, he was. Then his face set in deep lines as he added it up. His voice broke on aching disappointment when he said, "Oh, Reese."

She flinched but held her ground. Dez could only guess how much that cost her. She wouldn't have slept with Fallon if she didn't care for him, and she wouldn't enjoy hurting him now. h.e.l.l, Dez wasn't getting any satisfaction out of the agony in the other man's eyes. He could relate too d.a.m.n well.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I tried to be what I thought you wanted-what I thought I wanted, but I just couldn't do it." She stroked a hand down the sleeve of her leather, over her injured wrist. "This is who I am."

Breathing hard, hands fisted at his sides, Fallon grated, "What about him? How long have you been-" He broke off, closing his eyes briefly in pain. "How long?"

"This isn't really about him."

"f.u.c.k that."

"I never lied about my feelings, Fallon."

His ribs heaved. "I thought you would come around, that you would figure out that it's better to be with a good guy who loves you than an a.s.shole who'll break your heart, probably get you killed." Transferring his glare to Dez, he grated, "Pretty brave with that gun, aren't you? How about you put it down and we'll see who's tougher?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

Fallon just sneered. "Don't want to go back in, you mean. Parole violation, weapons charges, I wonder what else you've been up to for the past year, and whether she knows all of it."

Guilt pinched. "She knows I'm not the same guy I used to be."

The detective snorted. "Found G.o.d in solitary, did you? Think He redeemed you?"

"Something like that."

"You'll have plenty of time to work on that once you're back inside."

Dez merely lifted the .44. "I'm the one with the gun here. And Reese is leaving with me." Then he just waited, knowing the other man would work the logic to its conclusion: If Fallon organized a manhunt, even an off-the-books, semi-quiet one, Reese would get caught up in the net for aiding and abetting. When he saw the knowledge hit, he felt a pang of sympathy at the hollow resignation in the other man's face. "Let her go, Fallon," he said softly. "She's made her choice."

Reese shot him a look at that one, but didn't argue the point because she had made her choice-just not the one Fallon was a.s.suming. She had chosen freedom over restraints, adventure over a sure thing.

Fallon's eyes cooled to ice as he looked from Reese to Dez and back. Then he gave a bad-tempered "f.u.c.k it" kind of a shrug, and grated, "Doesn't matter to me what a pair of ghosts does. I didn't see anything in here, didn't hear anything, just had a s.h.i.+tty lunch break in a c.r.a.ppy warehouse, waiting for a weasel who didn't show."

Then he spun on his heel, and headed out. He stiff-armed the door, paused, and chucked the file folder back at them with an angry swipe. The papers scattered and fluttered to the hallway floor, where they swirled in the current as the door slammed shut. They heard his footsteps, the bang of a car door, the rev of an engine, the chirp of tires . . . and then silence.

She inhaled a small sob, bowed her head and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids.

He lifted a hand. "Reese."

"Don't," she said. "Just . . . don't. Not right now. Just get us out of here, okay?"

Skywatch The moment they were boots-down in the compound, Strike asked Reese and Dez to do a quick debrief-and-discuss.

Dez glanced at her. "Okay with you?"

"Yeah." She avoided his eyes, though. She could talk about the file Fallon had given them-thrown at her, really-but she wasn't ready to deal with the rest of it. Fallon had been a part of her life for a long time and she hated knowing that she had hurt him so deeply, hated knowing what he must think of her now. Part of her wished like poison that Dez had stayed the h.e.l.l out of sight. But another part of her, one she wasn't at all proud of, had liked that he had broken cover for her, stood beside her. And that part of her wondered what it meant. It had felt like a signal, but of what? She didn't know, didn't dare guess, which meant that right now it was easier to focus on the job. It was also necessary, because as she looked around the room, it struck her that of the dozen people scattered around the great room, she and Dez were among the most thinly armed. Even Shandi, Jade's ultra-reserved winikin, was packing heat. Skywatch didn't feel inviolate anymore, Iago had all five of the artifacts, and they were three days away from the solstice.

"Okay, gang," Strike said, looking tired and drawn as he called the meeting to order. "Reese, you want to lead us off?"

Feeling strangely numb, like this was all happening to someone else, she went through the police report Fallon had brought her, which described a burglary that had turned into a double homicide when the homeowners had caught the thieves in the act. The victims had died from multiple stab wounds, there was no indication of how the killers had gotten in or out, and the only thing that appeared to be missing was a pale green jade staff that had strange indentations along its length and snake heads carved at either end.

Serpents again, she thought, glancing at the insurance photo, then pa.s.sing it around.

Next, Lucius took over for a quick run-through of the sacred Aztec sites that were strong possibilities for either Iago's hiding spot or his next target. "Tomorrow, Strike is going to bounce a team-"

"Actually"-the king interrupted-"I'm going to have Rabbit, Myrinne, and Sven go check out the sites. They're already down south to." He glanced at Leah. "It'll work better that way."

A few knowing looks got traded, but n.o.body said a word. When Reese frowned in confusion, Jade leaned over and whispered, "Anna is . . . well, she's fading."

"Oh, no." The painful scene with Fallon receded slightly and she rubbed her chest, heart hurting for Strike and Sasha, who were losing their big sister, and for Lucius, who was losing his oldest friend and mentor. The others were losing a friend and teammate, the world its last living itza'at seer and the third Triad mage. And Anna . . . poor Anna. Reese had watched Lucius sit with her one day, going through her extensive collection of fake antiquities, talking about the ones they had found together at this market or that dealers shop. That had cracked her heart. Seeing Strike just beyond the doorway with tears in his eyes had broken it.

It's not fair, Reese thought, though she knew firsthand that life wasn't fair. If it were, she would have been able to love Fallon, who had wanted to give her the stability she should have craved. Instead, like her chocolate obsession, the thing she wanted most wasn't good for her.

She had a feeling that the unfairness of Anna's condition went beyond "life ain't fair," though. The Nightkeepers-Strike, especially-couldn't catch a freaking break. They fought like h.e.l.l for every gain, and too often things went the other way, seemingly in violation of the Doctrine of Balance that said everything would even out over the long run. It had taken some pus.h.i.+ng and prodding, but she had finally gotten Lucius to admit that he suspected the bad luck was cosmic payback-whether from the G.o.ds or the Doctrine of Balance itself-for Strike having broken the thirteenth prophecy by refusing to sacrifice Leah. The magi supported him absolutely . . . but the shadow remained.

Suddenly exhausted, she only half listened as Lucius continued down the list of possible sites for the weapon's activation, focusing on serpent-related ruins down south, within the Mayan territories. And when the meeting broke up soon after, she was grateful to escape to her suite. She had been in there only a moment, though, when there was a quiet knock at her door.

It wasn't syncopated, wasn't the familiar "all's clear," but she knew it was him. She almost wimped out and pretended she wasn't there, but he would know. And she didn't want weakness to make her into a liar. So she opened the door.

He stood in the hallway with his shoulders hunched and his fists jammed in his pockets, looking like he'd been caught doing something wrong, and for a second reminding her so strongly of his teenaged self that her throat closed, trapping her breath in her lungs. Then he straightened, becoming once again the man he'd grown into, the sleek, s.e.xy, powerful mage she didn't quite know how to handle. Which didn't make breathing any easier, but it did put her on her guard. Especially given that he was looking at her now like he had back in the warehouse.

"What do you want?" she asked, d.a.m.ning her voice for coming out breathy rather than tough.

He glanced away, then back at her. "Fallon's a better man than I am."

It took her a moment to process, another for anger to kindle. "Don't even think of trying to punt me back to Denver under his protection. I can make my own d.a.m.n decisions about men, and I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. And that's not what I meant." He reached out, took her hand, and slid her sleeve up, over the bandage. The skin around it was almost back to its normal color. "Anna's dying."

And she had nearly died, too, his gesture said. Her heart gave a sharp thudda-thudda at his touch. "What does that have to do with Fallon?"

"Because death is guaranteed. Life isn't. And Fallon put himself out there, even knowing he was going to get shot down." He paused, then let go of her hand. Instead of moving away from her, though, he stepped closer, and lifted both hands to grab on to the lapels of her new leather. "I've never done that."

Feeling like she was on the cusp of the dream when she had least expected to find herself there, she nodded. "Not with me, anyway."

"Not with anyone. I don't know. Maybe part of me thought Keban was right when he said n.o.body would want me for anything other than my strength. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe I was so full of myself I thought I didn't need to work for it."

"I can see how you would think that-the second part, I mean," Reese said, not wanting to look too hard at the first part because she knew it would wipe out what little common sense and self-restraint she had left. She could picture all too well Dez-the-child hearing that, believing it.

His mouth quirked. "Because I was full of myself in general?"

"No. Because I would have done anything for you back then."

He went still. "And now?"

She hesitated. "I'm confused. Who are you, really? What do you want from me? And for G.o.ds' sake, what are you hiding? There's something. I can see it in your eyes, or maybe it's that I'm feeling it in whatever link we've got going."

He went very still. "You can sense the blood-bond?"

"That's not an answer."

"You're right, and this isn't going to be one, either. But I'm asking you to hear me out." His tone was serious, his eyes intense.

Her stomach fluttered. Or was that her instincts? She could never tell when it came to him. But she nodded shallowly. "Go ahead."

"When I left Keban I walked away from most of what he taught me. But a few things stuck, mostly about how the members of the serpent bloodline were typically ambitious as h.e.l.l, borderline arrogant, and tough as nails. Even when I stopped believing in the Nightkeepers, I still knew that fit me. He also said that a serpent male, especially a powerful one, needed to make sure he had everything else straight in his life before he took a mate, because the serpents love obsessively, to the point that for the first while, nothing else exists for them. More, they need to pick a mate who can handle that, who can handle them, and keep them on an even keel."

Which wasn't anything she had expected to hear from him . . . but it explained a few things. She took a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. "You weren't sure about me."