Magic Unchained (27 page)

“Desperate times.”

“You didn’t trust me to man up once I understood what was going on.”

“Do you blame me?” The
winikin
’s raised eyebrow reminded Sven of his big apology and all those good intentions. Granted, he hadn’t repeated his old mistakes by doing a vanishing act when things started getting complicated, but maybe that would’ve been the lesser sin.

“Yeah, damn it, I
do
blame you. I…
Shit
.” He paused, trying to rein in his bubbling temper, because he owed Carlos his life. But he didn’t owe him unquestioning acceptance, especially when it came to Cara. Not anymore. “You could’ve talked to me, told me the truth about the Nightkeepers and the situation. I would’ve come back with you.” He wanted to think he would have, at any rate. “You could’ve tried that first, at least, before using Cara.”

Carlos’s eyes flared. “Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I
wanted
to do it that way? For fuck’s sake, we were finally starting to get along. With Essie
gone, we were eating together sometimes, riding out together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. And then Jox called, and I didn’t have a fucking choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Fine.” The older man lifted his chin to glare. “Then I made the choice. I ruined things with Cara, maybe even ruined things
for
her, in order to guarantee that the Nightkeepers got their coyote mage. Live with it. I know I do.”

“You… Jesus, Carlos. Who does shit like that?”

“A blood-bound
winikin,
that’s who. From day one, I was taught that the war is coming and the magi are the only ones who can save us, and that it’s up to the
winikin
to do whatever it takes—anything and everything, even if it means sacrificing our lives and families—to help them.”

And he had sacrificed his family, Sven realized. Maybe not directly, but still. “Was it worth it?” The sudden twist in his gut said the answer mattered.

“As long as you don’t let infatuation taint your powers, then yes. It was worth it.” And the damn thing was, there wasn’t an ounce of apology in the
winikin
’s eyes.

Anger flared, roughening Sven’s voice. “How can you say that about your own daughter?”

“The truth isn’t always easy. If the First Father had meant for the Nightkeepers and
winikin
to mix, he wouldn’t have forbidden them from mating.”

“Did he? Seems to me that particular rule is a later addition.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? It’s easier than admitting that you’re risking your magic, sniffing around her like you’re doing.” Some of Sven’s flinch must’ve shown, because Carlos’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I
noticed. Everyone has. So how about you do the right thing and stay the hell away from her?”

The words echoed back across the years and left Sven staring. “That day. That summer… It wasn’t about her being too young. It was that you couldn’t stand the idea of a mage and a
winikin
together.”

“It’s against the writs!”

Sven didn’t bother arguing that one. “Jesus,” he said, shaking his head, “it wasn’t ever about her, was it? All along, I was the one you were trying to control. You couldn’t stand the fact that I cared about her. Still do,” he corrected. “And that’s driving you up a fucking wall.”

“There isn’t room for sentiment when you’re fighting a war,” the
winikin
said darkly. “That
is
in the writs. Your responsibility is to the gods and ancestors, mankind, and then your king and the rest of the Nightkeepers. Lovers don’t make the list. They’re replaceable.”

It seemed impossible that he could say that about his own daughter without blinking. “Are you really that heartless?”

“No. I’m that scared.”

“You’re… Wait. What?”

“I’m scared of what’s coming. Fucking terrified. You were too young to remember anything about the massacre, and I used to thank the gods for that. But these days I’m not so sure, because I can’t help thinking you’d be taking things more seriously if you remembered what it was like…” His expression turned inward; his voice lowered to nearly a whisper. “Gods help us, it was awful. All the blood and the bodies, the screams, the children crying, running, being trampled. I… I stepped on them, ran over them carrying you, skidding in their blood and thinking that if I could just get away, we’d be safe.”

Sven crossed the room to stand opposite the man who had rescued him that night, and who had raised him the best he knew how. That, of all of it, had never been in doubt. “I’ll never forget that you saved my life.”

Carlos’s eyes came up, and his hand shot out and clamped on Sven’s wrist. His fingers dug in and held. “Good. Because now it’s your turn. I need you to save my life. I need you to save all of our lives, including hers. And you can’t do that if you’re letting yourself be distracted. You need to focus on what really matters.”

And damned if he didn’t have a point, one that resonated deep inside Sven, tugging at his warrior’s magic. But at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the string of seeming coincidences that had put him and Cara together in the coyote cave, with the scene set for sex. More, he couldn’t ignore—didn’t
want
to ignore—the heat that flared through him at the thought of her. “What if she’s part of what really matters?”

“She’s not.”

“I think she is.” It was all he could say without coming up against his fealty oath, which was already buzzing at the back of his brain, warning him that he needed to get moving; the king was waiting. But that wasn’t the only thing banging around inside his head, not by a long shot. Duty was one thing, destiny another, and both were sacred to the gods.

“Do you?” Carlos’s expression was hard, uncompromising. “Or are you looking for a sign that tells you it’s okay to do exactly what you want with no thought of the consequences?”

Cara had asked him nearly the same thing. Hell, he had asked it of himself. “Not this time.”

The
winikin
hesitated, then said slowly, “You made
me a promise once. I’m going to ask you for another one.”

“I won’t promise to stay away from her. I can’t.” It wasn’t until the words were out there that he realized just how true they were.

“Promise me that you won’t do anything about it unless you’re absolutely certain of the gods’ plan… or if you’re not certain, that you’ll wait until after the end date.” Carlos’s lips turned up in an utterly humorless smile. “If nothing else, that’ll give you something to fight for.”

“I won’t…” Sven began, but then trailed off, because fuck if that didn’t sound reasonable. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—make a vow he wasn’t sure he could keep, or even if he should try, because the magi rarely understood the gods’ plans except in hindsight. “I promise I’ll do my damnedest not to compromise the Nightkeepers or
winikin
by my actions. That’s the best I can do.” He held up a palm. “You want it in blood?”

“No, damn it, I want you to do the right thing.”

Sven hated this. He was pissed at Carlos, but that didn’t change the fact that he owed the older
winikin
for his life, and for shaping him into the man he’d become. There was love there, if not always affection. “I’m trying to do the right thing,” he grated. “We just disagree on what that means right now. And the king’s waiting for me.”

Carlos scowled. “Then go already.”

“Do you want me to swing by later and fill you in?”

The peace offering got an irritable shrug. “Dez will make sure we know what he wants us to.”

“But Cara—”

“You said she was fine. I’ll take your word on it.”

Anger kicked anew. “Don’t you care about her at all?”

Carlos looked away, throat working, and his voice was rough when he said, “Of course I do, damn you. She’s all I have left of Essie.” He picked up the tray and headed for the door, shooting over his shoulder, “But if you don’t save the world, it won’t matter what I care about.”

The door closed behind him with a definitive-sounding
thunk,
making that a hell of an exit line. Or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been talking about Cara.

She deserved a father who would’ve gone for his throat at the first hint of their fooling around, and not because of bigotry; a lover who would’ve taken her old man down for being a cold bastard when it came to her; family members who would’ve banded together rather than scattering to sulk in their own corners when things got bad. She deserved…
Oh, shit.

He stood there a moment, staring at the door as he got it. He freaking got it.

She needed someone on her side, someone with an official
don’t fuck with me
title and the weight of the king behind him. And he could be that guy, though not in the way he most wanted. No, he wasn’t going to be her lover.… He was going to take Dez up on his job offer. It would piss her off, granted, but it would put him in a position to protect her not only from her enemies, but from herself. And right now that had to be his first and foremost priority.… Because despite all the signs pointing to the value of a quick and painless exit, and all the complications that were bound to come from his sticking way too close to her, he wasn’t going to walk away from her this time.

When the door behind Cara opened and boots sounded on the tiled foyer of the royal suite, she gritted her teeth. First, because she had been on the cusp of getting Dez to agree to her strategy and now the moment was lost. And second, because she knew who it was right away, not just because she, Dez, and Reese had been waiting for him, but because the air changed, sending heated currents coursing over her skin and raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

She hesitated a moment, then turned, playing it casual and hoping to hell that the king and his mate didn’t see her flush like an idiot teen.

Sven was wearing jeans, boots, and a battered T-shirt, and should’ve looked like the beach bum he’d been when she first tracked him down to bring him back with her to Skywatch. But the clothes were where the resemblance ended. His body was bigger, his swagger tougher, and his eyes homed in on hers immediately, locking there for a moment and gaining a silent question, as if he wanted to ask whether she was okay, or maybe how much she had told the king.

She sent him a small nod, not even sure what she was really trying to convey other than acknowledgment. She was okay on some levels, far from it on others, and her and Dez’s conversation wasn’t really his business. She had her own relationship with the Nightkeepers’ leader, her own agenda, and neither of those things had anything to do with her and Sven.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” he said to Dez and Reese as he crossed the room. “I needed a few minutes with Carlos.”

Cara stiffened. She had tried to find her father last night and again this morning, but he hadn’t been in his quarters, the greenhouse, or any of his usual haunts. Had he been avoiding her? Ire gathered, even though by the time she had awakened from five hours of restless dozing, she had all but talked herself out of asking his advice. She knew what he would say, after all:
Don’t overreach; be proud of your heritage; don’t try to be something you’re not
.

Well, screw that.
She would decide what she was and wasn’t going to do, and right now, she was doing her damnedest to keep the
winikin
on her side in the aftermath of last night’s blowout. And Sven was interrupting.

Deep breath,
she told herself as he took a wide wingback chair opposite hers, putting the ornately carved coffee table between them.
Wait it out
. Dez hadn’t exactly agreed to her requests… but he hadn’t outright denied them, either. He’d seemed on board with still letting the
winikin
lead their own fighting teams. As for the other… well, he hadn’t turned her down yet. Once Sven’s debriefing was over and they could get back to—

“We were just discussing what should be done with
Zane and Lora,” the king said, startling her. “Your thoughts?”

Sitting up straight, she shot a look at Sven, who didn’t seem nearly as surprised as he ought to have been. Instead, he just scowled like he’d bitten into something rotten. “Why is it even under discussion?”

Of course he would see it that way—treason was one of the few things punishable by death under Nightkeeper law, and he’d always hated Zane. Even though she knew some of that stemmed from Sven’s wanting to protect her, irritation sparked and grew, and she snapped, “Because not all of us are so comfortable with—” She bit off the word “death,” knowing that was a too-low blow. “Sorry. Shit.”

He ignored her apology as if it didn’t matter either way, though she had seen him flinch. “What’s your answer, then? Imprisonment? Why should we waste manpower keeping tabs on those two, not to mention running the risk of looking like we’re tossing out the writs left and right, and pretty much doing whatever we damn well please?”

That should’ve seemed ironic, coming from him. Instead it was an indication of just how serious things had gotten all of a sudden. She could feel time slipping away from them, could feel the balance among the
winikin
threatening to skew too far away from center. Leaning in, she said urgently, “This isn’t about you, or even about the writs. It’s about needing the
winikin
to come together as a valid fighting force, and fast. Sasha managed to heal up the two who got hurt last night, but there’s already some serious rumbling going on, and lots of people pissed off, both because of what Zane and Lora did, and how their capture went down.” She didn’t blame him
for that, though; there had been plenty of people involved in the plan, including her, so the failure was shared. If anything, the
winikin
would blame her for not seeing the Nightkeepers’ grandstanding for what it was. Gods knew she blamed herself for it. Now she needed to regain their trust as best she could. “The way I see it, my best chance for getting them to rally behind me is if I get some concessions from the king, ones that they care about, and that make them feel like they’ve got some say in their own destinies.”