Regardless, the winikin had their marching orders: Defend the magi, and no matter what happens, don’t let the enemy interrupt the resurrection spell.
“Fifteen minutes to teleport,” Strike called from the hallway, his voice ragged. He’d been hit particularly hard; Rabbit was his younger brother in every way that mattered.
Cara and several other volunteers were cleaning up the sacred chamber, which had originally looked like something out of a TV crime scene. It was still pretty bad, though, so when a broad-shouldered figure filled the doorway, she held up a hand, thinking it was Strike. “Stop there. Don’t…” She faltered at the sight of Sven. “Oh. Hey.”
He tipped his head toward the hallway. “Can I have a few minutes?”
She hadn’t forgotten that he’d called her right before the alarms went off, or how serious he’d sounded. And, as she took in his grim expression, she knew that was a big part of why she had found some busywork to do with her last half hour before the teleport. She tried to tell herself it was a good sign that he’d come looking for her now, that he wouldn’t do anything to damage their rapport right before the battle… but her heart lumped in her throat as she stripped off her gloves and moved to join him, and her stomach shimmied as he guided her through a little-used door off the east side of the mansion.
It opened to a small tree-filled courtyard that was tucked behind the garage and faced away from the main compound, so all that could be seen beyond the mansion was sand and sky, and a lone bird riding an airstream high above them. The sight stirred something inside Cara, making her want to run fast and far, and never look back. But that was his MO, not hers, so she faced him squarely and said, “Tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“I know you can.” He brushed a few strands of hair back from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear. “I think you can handle anything you set your mind to. I just wish you didn’t have to. I wish… Shit. I’m not doing this right.” He took both of her hands in his own, so they were facing each other, fingers intertwined.
The scene was suddenly very like that first vision, making her instantly aware of their clothing. He was wearing combat black and she was in a white T-shirt, albeit with camo pants and combat boots. Black and white, hands joined beneath a bower. Her heart went thudda-thudda and her throat dried to dust at the sudden crazy thought. No, impossible. There’s no way. He’s not—
“I need you to release me from the promises I’ve made to you.”
“You… Wait. What?” That was so far from where her head had gone that she stuttered for a second while her stomach went freefalling. “Which one?”
“All of them.”
“Bullshit.” But his expression held grim apology rather than any hint of an ill-timed joke.
He squeezed her hands like he never wanted to let go. But he said, “I’m sorry, Cara. I need you to set me free.”
Nausea surged as she flashed on the sight of him standing at the window last night, staring out at the world. But that didn’t do a damn thing to take the edge off the shock that raced through her, didn’t come close to filling the yawning pit that opened up inside her. Yes, she’d seen his restlessness, felt him pulling away, but she’d thought they had more time. She had thought he would settle down, get into the rhythm of being back at Skywatch… and being with her. But he hadn’t even given it a chance.
Anger flaring, she burst out, “Seriously? You’re doing this now?”
“I have to.” His face was stark, his voice flat, and something in his expression made her think that this wasn’t just about him getting squirrelly.
She took a deep breath. “Talk to me, Sven. Help me understand what’s going on in your head, because by the gods, right now it feels just like old times. Only it’s worse. Much, much worse, because I care about you so much more now.” She swallowed. “Please tell me you’re not bailing already.”
“I’ve been having dreams, Cara. Dreams and waking visions of being in the rain forest near Che’en Yaaxil, searching for something. They’re like the flashes I started getting right before Mac and I bonded, only they’re more… I don’t know. Frantic, I guess. Like something really bad is coming.”
She exhaled softly. “You’re afraid you won’t be able to react the way you need to if you’re caught up in managing the winikin and trying to watch my back.” She squeezed his hands, tried for a smile. “We can work with that.”
“That’s part of it, yeah. There’s something else, though…” He returned her squeeze, but didn’t smile. “I’m blocked, Cara.”
“You’re…”
“Blocked. My magic isn’t working right. Mac can hear me but I can’t hear him, can’t tap into his senses. Worse, I nearly used myself up zapping the skull away from Rabbit, and that was a short-range translocation. Power-wise, I’m back down to where I was before Mac and I bonded, maybe less.”
She glanced down at their joined hands, and stretched her senses toward the small trickle of warmth that was so new yet already a part of her. “I can still feel you.”
His eyes went sad. “I can feel you, but I can’t tap into that connection for power. I can’t tap into anything, and that’s a huge problem.”
Panic sparked. They were… what, ten minutes to teleport? Less? “Maybe it has to do with the cave, or the skull. Maybe—”
“I don’t think the blockage is related to the visions, at least not directly.” He glanced away from her, toward the horizon. “I think that it’s coming from inside me.”
Ah, she thought, and then… Oh. Disappointment surged through her—disappointment in him for being who he was, in herself for forgetting. “Because you’re fighting your nature.”
His eyes flicked to hers. “You knew?”
“I… Yeah. I didn’t want to see it, though.”
“I didn’t want to feel it. These past few days have been like a dream, a fantasy. A few times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night or early in the morning, and just watched you sleep for a minute, thinking to myself, ‘There she is. After all these years, there she is.’ And I was as happy as I can ever remember being.” He met her eyes fully, and she saw everything she had been hoping for in him as he said, “I wanted—I want to stay here with you, be with you. I swear it, Cara.”
“Then stay. Be with me.” Emotions raced through her, jamming in a huge lump in her throat.
“I can’t. I tried to ignore it, but… this is who I am.” He raised their joined hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles in a move that shouldn’t have put distance between them, yet somehow did. “We don’t have much more time. I’m sorry as hell to do this to you, but I need you to release me from my vows to protect you and help you with the winikin.”
The blood rushed in her ears. “Then what?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. Pressing his forehead to hers, he said, “Then I’m going to block our bond and open myself back up to the urges of my bloodline. I’ll stay and fight with you for as long as I can… but I can’t promise anything more than that.”
She told herself not to ask, to let it go until after the resurrection spell had been cast. But she asked anyway. “What about us? Is this it?”
“I hope not. I don’t want it to be.” He eased back, searching her eyes. “Cara, I’m crazy about you. I want to be right next to you every moment that I can. I want to help you, protect you, show off for you.… Hell, I’ve never felt like this about anybody, ever, and I need you to believe that.”
Her eyes filled, damn it. “So what are you suggesting?”
“We could take it day by day, see what happens.” He brushed a thumb across her lashes. “You could take me as I am. A coyote… but one who cares for you very much. Can we make that be enough for now?”