So it was Delta, first-class, nonstop, which almost made up for the fact that Alexis hadn’t been able to talk Strike out of sending Nate with her as backup. It wasn’t as though she’d been able to tell him the truth, either, because hearing about her dream-vision would’ve only increased the king’s determination to throw her together with Nate, for two major reasons: one, because gods-intended, mated Nightkeepers were so much more powerful together than an unmated Nightkeeper alone; and two, because Strike himself had dreamed about Leah long before he met her, and vice versa, even though neither male Nightkeepers nor humans were supposed to be precogs or visionaries. The king was a big believer in dreams and portents, and he’d already made it clear that he thought Nate and Alexis would make a strong pair-bond, and that a relationship between them would be an asset to the Nightkeepers in the coming war.
“So sad, too bad for him,” she muttered under her breath. “Because a happy couple we very definitely are not. Sex doesn’t make a lasting relationship if the people engaged in said sex can’t carry on a civil convo to save their lives.”
“Then I take it you won’t mind me adding a third wheel,” the king’s voice said from the doorway to her suite.
Alexis jolted, but stopped herself from an instinctive gasp and spin because she was always aware of how Strike saw her, what he thought of her, and how she could improve that impression. How she could make herself useful in an advisory capacity. He already had Jox’s long-range perspective on Nightkeeper matters, and Leah was at his side to give him the cop’s view and the female opinion. As far as Alexis figured, her best commodities were her business experience and negotiating skills. Either way, she knew she had some serious impressing left to do if she wanted to take her mother’s place at the king’s side.
Still, when she turned to wave Strike in, she wasn’t sure she liked his wary expression, or the way he closed the door at his back, as though he didn’t want anyone listening in.
“You’re coming to New Orleans?” she asked, hoping it was that simple—and that much of an opportunity.
“Nope, sorry.” Strike exhaled, looked around her carefully decorated room and shifting inside his T-
shirt like he wasn’t feeling right inside his own skin. “I want you and Nate to take Rabbit with you.”
Squelching her knee-jerk no way in hell, Alexis went with a neutral hum while she processed the info and came up with only one good conclusion. “You want him out of the way.”
Strike shook his head. “He’s getting squirrelly and needs to get the hell out of the compound. That’s all.”
“No, it’s not.” Alexis kicked her feet up on the soft gray ottoman she’d bought to match the sofa, and folded her hands across her chest, thinking. “Given what happened today it’s not a good time to be sending anyone who doesn’t absolutely need to be off property, so there’s a reason you want Rabbit gone.” She sucked in a breath as she made an intuitive leap she was pretty sure was right.
“Something’s wrong with Patience and Brandt?”
Of all the current Nightkeepers, Patience and Brandt White-Eagle were special thrice over: once because they’d found each other long before the barrier reactivated, meeting in Mexico on the night of the spring solstice, and waking up together the following morning wearing their marks; a second time because they’d defied the teachings of their winikin by getting married and having kids; and a third time because those kids were twins, which were sacred to the Nightkeepers because of their abilities to boost each other’s powers. The kids, Harry and Braden, hadn’t been put through any of the ceremonies yet, in order to protect them from being detected by magic seekers, but they lived at Skywatch among the bound Nightkeepers, watched over by Patience and Brandt’s winikin, Hannah and Wood, when Patience and Brandt were unavailable. Which they’d been more and more lately, Alexis had noticed, as though they were drawing away from the Nightkeepers—or each other—and didn’t want anyone else to know.
“Wow,” Strike said, shaking his head. “You got there fast.” But he didn’t deny that it was because of problems with Patience and Brandt, who had become Rabbit’s main support system after Red-
Boar’s death. Instead the king went very serious and said, “I need you to keep Rabbit out of the way, and I need you to keep him safe.”
The teen was important to Strike; they’d grown up together, albeit separated by fifteen or so years, and Alexis had a feeling Strike and Jox had picked up most of the slack Red-Boar had left in the way of nonparenting. Which meant that the request was a sign of trust. She tipped her head. “Are you asking the same of Nate?”
“I’m putting him on notice,” Strike replied, making it clear he didn’t intend to ask Nate for a damn thing.
Alexis knew she should’ve regretted the low-grade animosity that existed between the two men, but she didn’t because it only helped her cause, and it wasn’t like Nate wanted to be part of the inner circle. As far as she could tell, he didn’t even want to be part of the outer circle. “I’m honored by your trust,” she said carefully, “but are you sure it’s a good idea to put him in the middle of all the New Orleans occult stuff?” She wasn’t sure how the half-blood teen’s magic worked—none of them were, except that it didn’t always behave the same as Nightkeeper magic.
Strike sent her a long, considering look, then shook his head. “Damned if I know the right answer to that.” He paused. “What I’m about to tell you comes in the strictest confidence, understand?”
Startled, she set aside Jade’s report. “Of course.”
“I’m pretty sure Rabbit’s mother was a member of the Order of Xibalba.”
Whatever Alexis had expected him to say, it sure as hell wasn’t that. She looked down at the thin report Jade had slapped together on a group of magi that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, then back up at her king. “Holy shit.”
He grimaced. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
Alexis wanted to say holy shit again, but didn’t figure it’d add to the convo, so she stayed silent, trying to process that new info. Finally she said, “I take it you got that from Red-Boar?” She didn’t think being half-Xibalban was something Rabbit would’ve kept to himself if he’d known.
Strike lifted a shoulder. “Let’s just say he didn’t deny it when I asked him directly. I think that was the main reason he didn’t want to induct Rabbit into the magic, why he didn’t want him trained as a Nightkeeper.”
“And why Rabbit’s magic is different, and sometimes dangerous.” Alexis thought it through, nodding. “Yeah, it plays. That’d explain why things have been weird for Rabbit during the ceremonies.” The first time she and the other new Nightkeepers had gone into the barrier, instead of them all transferring together like they should have, the trainees had gone one place within the gray-
green nothingness, while Strike and Red-Boar had each been sent elsewhere. The second time, Red-
Boar had been forced to use extra magic to keep them together.
“It could also explain why he’s got more power than he should,” Strike said, referring to the fact that Rabbit wore the pyrokine’s mark and could call fire, but also showed hints of telekinetic talents, in that he could unlock doors with a touch.
“I’m not sure I like how this sounds,” Alexis said quietly, thinking of the enemy mage’s powers, and how easily he’d wielded far more strength than she’d ever come close to touching. “You think the Xibalbans’ magic is stronger than ours.”