Storm Kissed by Jessica Andersen

spider-webbed glass and skewed wheels, lit by a glowing foxfire spell that followed Dez like a ghost, floating near his shoulder as he tried a crumpled door, muttering under his breath.
    She touched the high-tech armband that connected her to Skywatch. “I’ll call in, get us a ’port back to the compound,” she said, sticking with the practicalities. They had lost Keban and killed the car. It was time to fall back and regroup.
    “Don’t,” Dez said sharply, turning to face her. The foxfire trailed behind his shoulder, throwing his face into shadow.
    The word carried the punch of a command, but she lifted her chin and met the darkness that hid his eyes. “Newsflash: I don’t work for you.”
    His face went unreadable. “Don’t turn me in this time. Please.”
    The jab lumped a hard pressure in her chest, as did him ducking her question. “I’ve got a job to do.”
    “Keban is my responsibility.” He paused, the shadows deepening. “Go home, Reese. This isn’t your fight.”
    She shouldn’t have been disappointed . . . but, damn it, she was. She had told herself not to make excuses for why he had let her believe he was dead, not to think that the Triad spell was what had stopped him from reaching out to her because she wasn’t a mage like him. Strike and the others believed that her long-ago brush with the magic had marked her, putting her under the gods’ notice and making her part of the fight. More, they thought that she and Dez might have been destined mates, and that the gods were trying to make things right now by sparking the coincidences that had brought them together once more.
    She had told herself not to buy into it, not to expect anything. But the prickle of tears and a sudden jones for tiramisu said she hadn’t done as good of a job with that one as she had thought.
    Suck it up , she told herself. You don’t need his permission to drag his ass back to Skywatch. She didn’t have her Taser anymore, but Strike was waiting for her signal, and the magi could take care of the rest. You’re just a locator these days, remember?
    But there was an edge of desperation in his eyes. A silent plea. And her instincts were suddenly telling her not to make the call, that this was one of those targets who might be better off staying lost, at least for a while.
    When it came to Dez, though, history suggested that her instincts sucked. And the Nightkeepers’ writs said it best: What has happened before will happen again.
    She met his eyes. “You don’t get to decide whether or not this is my fight, especially not when your king, my contract, an unlimited expense account, and the end of the freaking world all say it is.”
    “I could drop you with a sleep spell, call them to pick you up, and be gone before they got here.” He suddenly seemed bigger and more menacing than before, though he hadn’t moved. The foxfire drifted ahead of him, illuminating his face but revealing nothing.
    “I’d just hunt you down again,” she countered. “And the next time you wouldn’t even know I was there—I’d just dart you like a rabid dog.” He didn’t say anything, but for a second she saw something in his eyes. In another man, it would have been desperation. She softened her voice. “Come back to Skywatch. They need you.”
    “They’re fine without me,” he said flatly.
    Which was a total crock. The Nightkeepers were bracing for massive attacks as the end-time countdown passed the one-year threshold. The prophecies hinted at disasters but were frustratingly low on details, leaving the magi scrambling for answers and needing all hands on deck . . . but Dez knew that. Yet here he was, out here on his own, tracking Keban. And he didn’t want the others involved. Either his transformation wasn’t nearly as complete as the others thought . . . or there was something else going on.
    “What are you hiding?” The slight narrowing of those pale eyes said it was a direct hit. Taking a deep breath to settle the