Then, as the height of the solstice pa.s.sed, the sky solidified, the glow disappeared, and even the firebird was gone, the sun shining brightly where it had last been.

Reese gripped Dez tightly, then sucked in an awed breath as the rainbow light drew back into itself, returning to the temple. As it hit the pillars, the stone shimmered and changed . . . and when the glimmer faded, where the undulating serpent had been, there were four columns, one at each compa.s.s point. Each of them was a jaguar, with Strike, Leah, Sasha, and Anna standing ranged in front of them, looking stunned.

In the center, a huge chac-mool altar arched over a linteled doorway that led into the earth. As they watched, the doorway shimmered and went solid, closing until the next cardinal day.

"Holy s.h.i.t." Reese breathed, gripping Dez's hand tightly and getting a squeeze in return.

In sacrificing his kingship, Strike had won them a new intersection. The Nightkeepers had fulfilled the prophecies. And their luck had finally turned.

Dez whooped, lifted her, and spun her in a dizzying circle while cheers rose up into the sky. Tears glistened, crazy grins flared, kisses met and melded, and Sven's coyote tipped up his nose in a joyous howl. More, movement rippled in a concentric pattern moving outward from the temple as the villagers began to stir. Dez tugged Reese so they could look over the edge to where a clamor of noise was suddenly swelling. The villagers weren't makol anymore. But from the looks on their faces, they were sure as h.e.l.l confused, headed toward terrified.

"I've got this," Rabbit said. He turned to Dez. "Cheech and his brothers are out there-I can feel his echo. They'll help me translate."

"And me." Myrinne put herself next to him.

Dez nodded. "Keep in touch, let us know if you need anything, blah, blah."

Rabbit's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "That's it?"

"That's it." Dez lifted a shoulder. "I don't have the history with you that the others do. And"-he glanced down at Reese, eyes softening-"I'm learning to deal with the person standing in front of me, not the one I remember, or think I remember, from before. So, yeah. That's it. Try not to make me look like an idiot."

"Will do." Rabbit grabbed Myrinne's hand and headed into the milling crowd.

Reese watched them go, instincts pinching. "Are you sure about that?"

"No. But I can't blame him for what he might do." He watched Rabbit a moment longer, then turned to the others. "Time to head home." He looked at Strike. "Can you handle it?"

Strike grinned and held out his hand to Anna. "We've got this one. No more misfires. Promise."

Reese was laughing as she linked fingers with Dez, lifted up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his, so they were kissing while the world lurched sideways, went gray-green, and the Nightkeepers headed back to Skywatch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

One month later

Denver

"I still can't believe it." Reese spun in a wide circle, hands outstretched, head tipped back so she could take in the transformation.

Warehouse Seventeen was being rehabbed into Skywatch North.

Local crews and contractors crawled over the place, shouting questions and answers, and wielding power tools that sounded like makol buzz-swords, but creating rather than killing. The charred warehouse ruin had been stripped back to its girders and was being rebuilt, not just to its former questionable glory, but into an entirely new incarnation, with three tiers of offices and bedrooms surrounding a central atrium that was open to the sky through tinted gla.s.s panels. The Nightkeepers' ceremonial objects and armaments would be put in later. For now, it was all about bringing the building-and the neighborhood-up several notches.

Standing a few feet away with his hands in the pockets, Dez raised an eyebrow. "Can't believe I bought the place, can't believe how far the renovations have gotten, or can't believe that I did it on the sly?"

"All of the above." She stopped spinning and grinned at him, her heart catching at the sight of her man. Her mate.

Wearing jeans, combat boots, and a brown bomber that hid his marks and his .44, he looked as tough and capable as always, but there was more now. The heavy weight of his responsibilities had added new lines to his face, new tension in his jaw. But those were balanced by the glow that lit his eyes when he looked at her, crossed to her, and brushed his lips across hers.

She closed her eyes and leaned into him. He was warm and solid, someone she could depend on. Someone they could all depend on. Not that the two of them didn't argue-they fought like banshees, probably always would. But he listened to her now, and when he didn't, she was tough enough to beat her side of things into his thick skull.

They were making it work.

"This is a fabulous surprise," she said, still reeling from how quickly her morning had gone from his, "I've got something to show you," to a quick 'port hop that had landed them in the middle of Warehouse Seventeen-the place where they began. She shot him a quick look. "You're not worried about being recognized?"

He lifted a shoulder. "Nate and Carter took care of the paperwork, so the cops won't be able to find anything outstanding on me. Besides, it's been a few years, and people see what they expect. When they look at me, they'll see the latest city guy to jump on some grant money, not the very former-and very dead-cobra de rey." He paused and shifted, hunching his shoulders a little. A faint shadow crept into his eyes. "And, ah, this isn't the whole surprise."

The shadows-worry? nerves?-didn't trigger the oh s.h.i.t they would have before. Now his expression just made Reese wonder what he was up to. "Am I going to like the rest of it?"

"I sure as h.e.l.l hope so." He pulled his cell, checked the time. "You mind poking around on your own for a few minutes?"

She waved him off. "No problem. I'm sure I can find some trouble to get into." But as she watched him head off toward the east entrance, she murmured, "And you'd better not be getting yourself into any trouble." No matter how much she loved him, believed in him, she couldn't stop the skim of nerves. Something was up. Something big. And she couldn't see the pattern.

Skywatch Sven hurled a fallen cacao branch, arching it high over the picnic area to bounce crazily on the packed dust. "Go get it!"

Mac yipped eagerly as he bounded after the toy, racing with a loose-limbed abandon that Sven could feel in his own bones. It stirred him up, making him feel restless. Or rather, more restless. He had been increasingly edgy ever since he had returned from helping out down at Skywatch South-aka Coatepec Mountain-where Anna, Lucius, and Natalie were excavating several ruins near the reborn jaguar palace, in the hopes of figuring out how their ancestors had used the site, and how it would fit into the coming war. Besides being an intersection, that is.

It had been dirty, backbreaking work, and right now he probably should be exhausted. Instead, he and Mac were walking the perimeter of the compound for the second time that morning.

The coyote brought the stick back to him, eyes dancing.

"Fine. But this is the last time." Shaking his head, Sven c.o.c.ked his arm to throw it up by the pool- And the long-range alarms went off with a high, unearthly shriek.

Seconds later, JT's voice came through his armband. "We have incoming. There's a baby Hummer in the front, followed by-s.h.i.t, buses? What the f.u.c.k?"

Adrenaline kicked through Sven. "I'll be right there. Update the others."

He was the only mage on-property right then; the others were scattered on various a.s.signments. But with two teleporters in action now, there would be backup on site within a few minutes. He just had to hold out that long. Mac stayed right beside him as he bolted up through the mansion, grabbed a shotgun off the rack of spares near the door, and burst out the front. Magic washed over him as JT opened up the ward to let him through, then again as the winikin closed it behind him.

There was a dust cloud hazing the horizon, growing larger and more distinct, then becoming the shadow of a vehicle. Several vehicles-an H3 with heavy tint on the windows, pimp-style, and two gray-painted buses that had probably hauled school kids in a former life.

What the f.u.c.k, indeed.

Sven cast a shield spell around him and Mac as the H3 rolled up too close to him, the driver and pa.s.senger visible only as silhouettes behind the tint. He made a show of checking the gun, figuring he'd hold the fireb.a.l.l.s until he got a better idea of the situation, or his backup arrived.

The driver 's door opened and a man got out-a late-thirties soldier type with a brush cut and shades, wearing jeans and a USMC sweatshirt. He wasn't real big, but he was plenty capable looking. And he didn't seem the slightest bit concerned about Sven, the shotgun, or the low, rumbling snarl coming from Mac. Instead, his lip curled as he gave them an up-and-down. "Oh, joy. A coyote."

Sven got the feeling he wasn't talking about Mac.

As the pa.s.senger door opened, he bristled and said, "Who the h.e.l.l-" His words died as he got a look at the H3's other occupant. He got two syllables out: "Cara."

Mac yipped with joy and bounded over to her. She greeted him like an old friend, which might have struck Sven as being odd, if his brain hadn't just vapor locked. He hadn't seen her since that day on the dock, hadn't been able to find her thereafter. She had disappeared. Now, it seemed, she had reappeared. With friends.

She was wearing a long silver-gray coat that brushed around her ankles as she walked, parting to show dark pants and stiletto boots. Soldier Boy started forward but she waved him back, so she was alone when she faced Sven, hidden behind her dark shades. "We're here. Where do you want us?"

Sven looked beyond the H3 to the buses, saw the outlines of people in every row of seats. "Who are . . ." He trailed off, felt his jaw drop. Couldn't pick it up. "Those are JT's rebels?"

"Actually, they're my rebels now," she said, with a quiet thread of steel in her voice that had his attention snapping back to her, had him seeing that her red-painted mouth and the square set of her shoulders were nothing like those of the woman who had come down off that boat to talk to him.

"Glad you made it," Strike said unexpectedly. Sven glanced back to find Leah, Sasha, and Michael backing him up, shot Mac a dirty look for not warning him they were there.

Michael nodded to Cara. "Welcome back to Skywatch."

"We'll see," she said softly, then gestured to the main gate. "Can we come in?"

Sven didn't say a d.a.m.n thing. He couldn't. He was too busy trying to figure out why he was the only one here who seemed to be surprised.

"Sorry, Cara," Strike said apologetically, "but we're going to need to check out the others before we pa.s.s them through. New security protocols."

She nodded. "Understood. We'll wait."

"Actually," Strike said, "I think you should come with us."

"Where to?"

"Dez wants us all up north. You might as well meet him face-to-face."

Cara nodded and headed back to exchange a few words with Soldier Boy. When she started to follow the magi through the main gate, Sven caught her arm. "I've been looking all over for you. Why didn't you tell me what you were up to?"

"Dad knew. If he didn't tell you, then it must have slipped his mind."

"Bulls.h.i.t. He doesn't forget anything."

"Then he decided not to tell you. That's between you two-leave me out of it." She met his eyes with a reserve he didn't recognize. "Look, let's get one thing real straight: This doesn't need to be weird. The past is in the past. Let's leave it there and move on, okay? I've got a job to do, you've got a job to do, and they probably won't intersect that much. I'd like to keep it that way. Deal?" She held out her hand.

He stared at her hand, at the unmarked forearm the move revealed. Then he blew out a breath that didn't do much to settle his suddenly revving system. "Fine. Whatever."

But when they all uplinked in the great room, the magic leaped through him with a wild surge that had Strike raising a brow in his direction. Instead of saying anything about it, Sven asked, "What does Dez want us in Denver for?"

"Beats the h.e.l.l out of me." Strike's lips twitched. "But considering that he nearly killed me on the firing range at five this morning and walked away still looking gray around the edges, I think we can guarantee that whatever it is, it's big."

Denver When Dez texted her to meet him back in the atrium, Reese had to tear herself away from the window perch she had found up near the roof, looking out over the neighborhood. She could see a handful of other construction projects, some new signs, different storefronts, a scattering of foot traffic, and only one surrept.i.tious handoff of cash for illegals. The 'hood had come up in the world. Then again, so had she.

On my way, she texted back, and headed down-level. Given where they were and what had happened the last time they had been there, she had a feeling Dez might've tried to arrange some sort of smooth-things-over meeting with Fallon. She wasn't sure if she hoped that was it or not-things felt over for her on that front, and she didn't think it would do them any good to pretend they were going to be friends, or even that he would forgive her. Unless he was seeing someone. That would make her smile. Especially if it was someone who didn't mind that he showed love by quietly fussing, overprotecting.

She had finally figured out that she liked love that was expressed at top volume, usually mixed in with words like "pigheaded royal" and "stubborn a.s.s of a king," and that spilled over into the newly redecorated royal suite-or rather, into the bedroom of the royal suite, where one whole wall was taken up by a painted mural of a Montana skyline. It was another of Dez's "surprises," and one that had already seen some major makeup s.e.x. And nonmakeup s.e.x. And lovemaking.

She was grinning when she came out of the stairwell and swung around the corner to the atrium. Then she stopped dead, her grin fading when she saw the crowd that was waiting for her.

The full complement of magi and winikin hadn't been in the same place since the battle atop Coatepec Mountain; for them all to be here now said there was something major going on. There were a couple of new faces, too-one was a vibrant young woman with a white skunk stripe. That would be Cara Liu, she knew. But the other guy-lean and red-cheeked, wearing a heavy coat and a scarf wrapped up past his mouth, with round gla.s.ses perched on his nose, was a stranger.

It wasn't a reunion with Fallon, then, which was a relief. But what the h.e.l.l was it? Some sort of dedication ceremony? Yeah, that was it. Maybe. Nerves stirred. Then the group shifted, parted, and she saw Dez at the far end. He was looking at her expectantly, those wary shadows still in place.

She moved toward him almost without volition, her body drawn into his...o...b..t by a gravitational pull of rightness that said: there you are. Destined mates or love at first sight-how much of a difference was there, really?

Joining him up at the front of the room, aware that they were the center of attention-though as the king's consort, she had gotten pretty used to that-she whispered, "What are we doing, naming this place or something?"

His lips curved up. "Or something." He dipped into an inner pocket of his bomber, pulled out a jeweler's box . . . and went down on one knee.

And Reese. Stopped. Breathing.

Time telescoped and a decade disappeared in an instant. They were standing almost exactly where they had been the last time, when everything had been so very wrong. But now, as he opened the box, everything was right. The ring was made of white gold, a serpent that curled around a central stone. But instead of a cobra guarding a black stone, this was a sleekly elegant serpent G.o.d that curved around a sparkling multicolored array of white diamond, red ruby, yellow chalcedony, and gleaming onyx arranged in a circle around an emerald that glowed, green and perfect, at the center.

Her eyes filmed, spilled over. And she didn't swipe the tears away, didn't mind being a girl. Because if she couldn't be a girl when the man of her teenaged dreams and woman's fantasies proposed to her, when could she?

"Oh, Dez . . ." she breathed. She wanted to tell him that it was beautiful, that it was perfect, the moment was perfect. But she couldn't get any of that out. She could only stare at the ring as the past and present merged, finally finding their balance, becoming the whole of her life, and the antic.i.p.ation of their future. They would wait until after the end-date, she knew. Just as the magi were resolved not to bring children into the world prior to the war, they were holding off on human-style marriages, some because they believed more strongly in the mated marks, others so they would have something to look forward to. She wanted to be one of those looking forward.

He cleared his throat. "I promised myself I wouldn't f.u.c.k up proposing this time."

"The lack of bodies is a good start," she observed, then winced and bit her tongue when the guy standing beside Dez choked, his eyes going round behind his gla.s.ses.

But Dez's eyes gleamed, as if that had given him the answer he needed. Suddenly, she realized the shadows she had seen in him came from wariness. Nerves. Did he really think she would turn him down? "f.u.c.k the speech," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "I love you, Reese Montana. Marry me. Please marry me. By all that's holy, I don't want to do this without you at my side, wearing my ring."

"Yes." She caught his face between her hands and stepped into the lee of his legs to lean down and kiss him, feeling the stir of heat and magic they made together. "Of course I'll marry you," she said against his lips. "I love you. Oh, how I love you."

He rose up into the kiss, then stood, still kissing her, until they were wrapped together, the heat spinning around them. Then he broke the kiss and stepped away from her to take the serpent ring from the box, which he tucked back into his jacket. He didn't put the ring on her finger, though. Instead, he palmed it and took her hands in his, the ring forming a b.u.mp between their hands. Then he nodded to the stranger. "Go ahead."

The guy smiled faintly, took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it.

Reese stared at him, blood suddenly rushing so loud in her ears that she couldn't hear the guy when he started reading, could only see his lips moving. "Wait," she interrupted. "What?"

"You said you would marry me." Dez nodded to the others. "I've got witnesses."

She didn't look at them, couldn't. Her heart raced, making her muscles tremble with the need to move, though there was nothing to flee from, nothing to fight. Her voice shook. "I thought . . .Don't you want to wait until, you know. After?"

"That's the one thing I don't want to do. I waited too d.a.m.n long before. I'm not making the same mistake again." He tightened his fingers on hers. "I want to marry you right now," he looked around, grinning, "and most definitely right here. I love you, and I don't want to wait another minute." A pause, a hint of wariness. "What do you say?"

They were standing in a half-rebuilt warehouse in near-frigid temperatures, both wearing jeans and leather, each with a knife in a pocket and a gun hidden somewhere within easy reach. There were no Barbie dresses and tuxes, no flowers, papier-mache, or drippy music. And that made it exactly right. A smile split her face. "I say yes."

The shadows fled, leaving only love behind. "Thank the G.o.ds for that."

He tugged her into his arms and kissed her, long and deep, with an intensity that sent sweet heat roaring through her, turning the chill air suddenly tropical. She clutched him, clung to him, sank into him. They had made love in the shower that morning, twining slick and slippery together, but she wanted him again, here, now and- "Ahem," Strike said drily from behind Dez. "You skipped a couple of steps. Including the 'I dos' and the cake."

She broke away. "There's cake?"