But which part of her should she listen to? Did she even have a right to make a choice when so much was riding on her and Lucius’s getting back into the barrier before the solstice?
The meeting lasted well past afternoon, as the magi and winikin brainstormed various plans to get into Xibalba and rescue Kinich Ahau, all of which hinged on the magi finding a way to get into—and, more important, back out of—the underworld. The winikin—including Shandi, who reappeared quietly and shook off both questions and concern—dished out pasta and drinks, and the group worked through dinner and up to the late-summer dusk, which turned the sky bloodred. Finally, Strike called it a day and dismissed the meeting, which had covered a great deal and resolved almost nothing.
The story of our lives, Jade thought as the magi and winikin dispersed to their rooms and tasks, very carefully not making a big deal of leaving her and Lucius alone.
When they were gone, she braced herself for Lucius’s anger; she hadn’t missed his tension upon learning that she’d gone into the barrier alone, without sufficient magic to get back out on her own, and hadn’t told anyone. But that was her prerogative; it had been her nahwal , her message. And she’d revealed it the moment it became clear that it related to Vennie and the library.
Bracing herself, she turned to him. “I didn’t—” She didn’t get any further; her words were muffled by his hard, solid shoulder as he hauled her into his arms. For half a second she stiffened, thinking he was presuming far too much, far too publicly. But then she realized it wasn’t a sexual overture, not really.
He was, quite simply, holding her.
“I wish you’d woken me up last night and told me what was going on,” he said into her hair. “I don’t like thinking of you dealing with all that shit alone.”
“I—” She had to swallow against an unexpected and inexplicable sob. “I had Shandi.”
“Like I said. Dealing with it alone.”
Finding too much comfort in the embrace, she tried to push away. “I can handle myself.”
He wouldn’t let her push. “I know you can. But you shouldn’t always have to.” He paused. “If you don’t want to lean on me as your lover, lean on me as your friend. I’ve always been that, even when we weren’t really talking to each other.”
She sagged against him, defeated. “Shit. You played the friend card.”
“My mama never called me stupid.” He hugged her hard and eased away, so he was looking down at her when he said, “Granted, she babied me, told me I was fragile, and made me carry an inhaler I’m not sure I ever needed. Then, when my dad couldn’t figure out what to do with me, sitting inside with my nose in a book, she told him I was lucky I got her brains, because my body wasn’t ever going to amount to much.”
Jade frowned at him, trying not to notice how right it felt to be in his loose embrace, with her half on his lap as they cuddled together on the couch, the mansion gone conveniently empty and quiet around them. “Your point?”
“Family is the luck of the draw. It might not seem fair that your winikin is less than warm and fuzzy, or that after all this time you find out that your parents were younger than you thought, and your mother made some decisions that don’t seem compatible with the responsibilities of a mother, though that might depend on your interpretation of the writs. But fair or not, that’s the family—or at least the family history—that you’ve got. Question is, what are you going to do about it?”
She broke eye contact. “I don’t know. Do I have to do anything? I am who I am, you know?
Learning all that stuff about my mother doesn’t change the fact that I’m a harvester who wears the scribe’s mark but doesn’t have the talent to go with it. Except . . .” She brought her eyes back up to his. “As I came out of the barrier, it was like I could see the magic, the layers of it, and the inner structure of the spell. But I haven’t been able to access the power since then. I’m sure the nahwal did something to help me find a piece of my talent . . . but what if the sex magic was part of it too?”
His eyes darkened. “I hate knowing that you got pulled into the barrier like that.”
“If we can make it happen again, I can ask her about the library.” Though the prospect was more than a little unnerving. Like meeting her mother again for the first time. What should she say? What would the nahwal do? Could she even find her way back there? Would it be worth it?
For the ability to do magic like the glimpse she’d been shown . . . yes.
“I don’t want any of it to happen again,” Lucius rasped, but they both knew that wasn’t the right and proper answer. “Damn it,” he muttered. “This should be easier.”
“We can make it be,” she said firmly, though she wasn’t quite so sure about that anymore.
His expression flattened for a moment, but then he nodded and rose to his feet, drawing her up with him and then stepping away. When they were standing facing each other, he held out his hand, turning it so his palm was painted bloodred by the dusk, slashed through with a shadow-scar. “Come home with me tonight?” he asked softly.
On one level, she wanted him to say something about wanting her outside of the magic and the greater good, that what was between them was real and not a by-product of the situation and the need.
On another level, she was relieved that he didn’t, because she wanted it too much.
She took his hand and said simply, “Yes.”
Her blood burned as he led her out into the night, went to flame as they undressed each other in his cottage, staying out in the main room because bedrooms were too intimate. They left the lights off and came together in the red darkness, in a clash of lips and tongues, inciting caresses and hard, hot bodies slicked with sweat.
The sex was fast and greedy, almost animalistic. It left her limp and wrung-out, and filled with inner fire as she clung to him and tried not to need. It was amazing, staggering, mind-blowing . . . but it wasn’t magic.
CHAPTER TWELVE
June 15 Two years, six months, and six days to the zero date Patience didn’t hear the king coming. Walking soft-footed on the rope sandals many of the male magi favored for at-home wear, he appeared around the corner, headed full-steam along the hallway leading to the royal quarters.
When he saw her, he stopped. “Were you looking for me?” But although his words were neutral enough, his expression was wary. He knew why she was there, all right. But how could he blame her?
She wasn’t just a mage. She was a mother too.
“I need to see Harry and Braden,” she said without preamble. “I’ll take whatever blood vows you demand. I’ll make myself invisible; they won’t even know I’m there. I just . . . I have to see them.”
The king didn’t answer for a moment, just stared into her eyes, and she fleetingly wondered whether he’d somehow gained the powers of a mind-bender, because it was almost as if he were trying to see inside her, and find . . . what? She would’ve given it to him if she knew what he was looking for. She’d give anything to see her babies.