this wasn’t about them. And if that meant she was thinking a little like a Nightkeeper, she was okay with that. So all she said was: “Pick a door, Mendez.”
“Shit. Fine. We’ll go after him together.” He spun and stalked to the back of the Compass, where the rest of her weapons were stashed in a hidden lockbox. “Get your stuff,” he ordered tersely, not looking at her. “We’ll hike back to my truck. Overland, it shouldn’t take all that long.”
Reese ignored his tone and pulled her laptop and knapsack out of the wrecked vehicle. But although she had won the argument, she didn’t feel any sense of victory. Instead, as she followed him into the darkness, her stomach was knotted into a hard ball of nerves and a panicked question was rocketing around inside her head: What the hell are you doing?
She didn’t have a clue. But history was sure as shit repeating itself.
Skywatch
When the landline started ringing in the main room, Sven ignored it to slouch deeper into the rec room sofa, his eyes glued to the screen. “Can someone get that?”
“Get it your damn self,” JT snapped as he passed the door and glanced in, his arms loaded with storeroom boxes. “Playing Viking Warrior version whatever-the-fuck does not count as being too busy to get the phone. And I’m not your godsdamn servant.”
Which would’ve been more cringe-inducing if the winikin didn’t say it at least five times a day.
“I’m watching Dog Whisperer , not playing games,” Sven muttered, but he headed out to the main room to grab the phone before JT came steamrolling back and made his point with his fists. A former army ranger who had spent the past seven years exterminating bat demons with a ceremonial knife and a bad attitude, he could more than hold his own.
So Sven got the phone his damn self.
“Skywatch,” he said into the handset, keeping it simple because he’d gotten a month of kitchen duty a year or so ago when Carlos caught him answering with “Screamin’ Demon Central. What is your emergency?”
“It’s Mendez.”
The low growl, coming with car noises in the background, brought relief. “Good to hear your voice.” Sven checked the caller ID, saw that it was the cell that had been assigned to Reese. “Guess the bounty hunter earned her rep. You guys headed back?”
“No, we’re staying on the winikin’ s trail from out here. She said she promised to check in twice a day with Strike, so consider us checked in. And I want you to get some info to the brain trust.”
“Wait.” Sven looked around for something to write on other than his palm. “Shit. Give me a second.” He scored a pen and scratch pad. “Go ahead.”
He copied down Mendez’s message. “Statue. White god’s head. ‘T’ glyphs on its cheeks. Got it.”
“They can call us when they have something. We’ll be on this phone.”
“Good hunting.”
Sven decided to walk the message out to the brain trust—aka Lucius, Jade, and the Nightkeepers’ ancestral library, which had magicked its way into a cave at the back of the box canyon. It was a nice day, and he should probably work out some of the kinks. He had taken a pretty good hit the other day during a short, ugly fight with a dozen of Iago’s makol near a ceremonial cave system down in Belize. Even though Sasha had hooked him up with some healing juju the other day, he still didn’t feel right. So he jogged a little, trying to loosen up as he headed down the short flight of stairs beyond the pool area and hit the worn path that led past the picnic area.
With most of the others off on assignment—despite his protests, Strike had kept him back for a couple of days on injured reserve—he wasn’t expecting to see anyone on the way to the library. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting to find a standoff out behind the training hall. And certainly not one involving JT and Carlos.
Okay, JT wasn’t much of a surprise, really. If there was a fight, he was probably in the
“Shit. Fine. We’ll go after him together.” He spun and stalked to the back of the Compass, where the rest of her weapons were stashed in a hidden lockbox. “Get your stuff,” he ordered tersely, not looking at her. “We’ll hike back to my truck. Overland, it shouldn’t take all that long.”
Reese ignored his tone and pulled her laptop and knapsack out of the wrecked vehicle. But although she had won the argument, she didn’t feel any sense of victory. Instead, as she followed him into the darkness, her stomach was knotted into a hard ball of nerves and a panicked question was rocketing around inside her head: What the hell are you doing?
She didn’t have a clue. But history was sure as shit repeating itself.
Skywatch
When the landline started ringing in the main room, Sven ignored it to slouch deeper into the rec room sofa, his eyes glued to the screen. “Can someone get that?”
“Get it your damn self,” JT snapped as he passed the door and glanced in, his arms loaded with storeroom boxes. “Playing Viking Warrior version whatever-the-fuck does not count as being too busy to get the phone. And I’m not your godsdamn servant.”
Which would’ve been more cringe-inducing if the winikin didn’t say it at least five times a day.
“I’m watching Dog Whisperer , not playing games,” Sven muttered, but he headed out to the main room to grab the phone before JT came steamrolling back and made his point with his fists. A former army ranger who had spent the past seven years exterminating bat demons with a ceremonial knife and a bad attitude, he could more than hold his own.
So Sven got the phone his damn self.
“Skywatch,” he said into the handset, keeping it simple because he’d gotten a month of kitchen duty a year or so ago when Carlos caught him answering with “Screamin’ Demon Central. What is your emergency?”
“It’s Mendez.”
The low growl, coming with car noises in the background, brought relief. “Good to hear your voice.” Sven checked the caller ID, saw that it was the cell that had been assigned to Reese. “Guess the bounty hunter earned her rep. You guys headed back?”
“No, we’re staying on the winikin’ s trail from out here. She said she promised to check in twice a day with Strike, so consider us checked in. And I want you to get some info to the brain trust.”
“Wait.” Sven looked around for something to write on other than his palm. “Shit. Give me a second.” He scored a pen and scratch pad. “Go ahead.”
He copied down Mendez’s message. “Statue. White god’s head. ‘T’ glyphs on its cheeks. Got it.”
“They can call us when they have something. We’ll be on this phone.”
“Good hunting.”
Sven decided to walk the message out to the brain trust—aka Lucius, Jade, and the Nightkeepers’ ancestral library, which had magicked its way into a cave at the back of the box canyon. It was a nice day, and he should probably work out some of the kinks. He had taken a pretty good hit the other day during a short, ugly fight with a dozen of Iago’s makol near a ceremonial cave system down in Belize. Even though Sasha had hooked him up with some healing juju the other day, he still didn’t feel right. So he jogged a little, trying to loosen up as he headed down the short flight of stairs beyond the pool area and hit the worn path that led past the picnic area.
With most of the others off on assignment—despite his protests, Strike had kept him back for a couple of days on injured reserve—he wasn’t expecting to see anyone on the way to the library. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting to find a standoff out behind the training hall. And certainly not one involving JT and Carlos.
Okay, JT wasn’t much of a surprise, really. If there was a fight, he was probably in the
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