Storm Kissed by Jessica Andersen Page B

glyph, but something inside him gave a liquid tug of longing. It wasn’t the same as the way the black idol made him feel—this was softer and more grounded, almost sexual—but the two sensations were definitely in the same ballpark. This was another piece of the puzzle, no question about it.
    He held out a hand, careful to stay on his side of the shield spell. “Give it to me.”
    Keban offered the bust, hands shaking and then sagging as he lost strength. Dez reached for the carving, stepping forward automatically to catch it before it fell.
    The moment he made contact, power flashed through him, paralyzing him momentarily.
    And in that terrible, vulnerable second, Keban’s eyes focused and his fingers clamped on Dez’s wrist to yank him closer. The winikin’ s eyes flashed cruelly, and he was utterly focused and in control as he held up his free hand and blew a puff of white powder through the latticework of the lightning shield.
    Dez yanked away as the fine particles peppered his face. “Son of a—” Pain lashed through him, starting at his nose and mouth and then racing through his body. His muscles seized up, his senses overloaded, and he doubled over in agony.
    Gods! He fought for control, but crashed to the ground instead. The white god’s head rolled away from his spasming fingers and electricity arced through him as his powers raged, veering and colliding. The shield spell shorted out, freeing Keban, who looked straight and strong, and nothing like the broken old man he had pretended to be.
    He moved to stand over Dez. Pulling a wide-barreled gun from the small of his back, he shook his head, expression terrifyingly blank. “You couldn’t just meet me during the fucking solstice, could you? You had to try and be the noble motherfucking Triad mage. Well, this’ll slow you down a little.” He took aim at Dez’s kneecap.
    Fuck! Dez rolled as automatic gunfire split the air. Through the haze of pain and the spinning disorientation that had come from the drugged powder, it took him a second to realize that the barrage hadn’t come from the winikin’ s gun. It had been one of the MAC-10s the magi used for jade-tip combat.
    Backup! Dez hadn’t wanted it, didn’t know how they had found him . . . but he was damn glad for the help as the autopistol chattered again.
    Cursing, Keban grabbed the god’s head and dove through a doorway as bullets chewed into the thousand-year-old masonry.
    Lurching to his feet, Dez shouted, “Don’t let him get away!” He stumbled after the winikin , trying to summon his warrior’s magic as he ran, but got sparks instead of a shield or lightning. He couldn’t sense Keban’s heat signature, but he could feel the tug of the white statue’s magic, headed toward the Hubble Site at the edge of the Aztec Ruin. Pulling a small flashlight from his heavy jacket, he flicked it on. “This way!” Ducking, he veered into a tunnel he had scouted earlier.
    A single set of bootfalls pounded behind him, closing the gap as he burst out of the tunnel into the open space separating the North Ruin and the Hubble Site. But Keban wasn’t headed for the second ruin. He’d made it to his vehicle.
    Dez skidded to a stop, swearing over the roar of an engine as rear lights bounced hard and disappeared in a cloud of dust.
    “Son of a bitch.” He spun toward his backup, aiming the flashlight. “We have to—” He broke off, the air jamming his lungs when he saw, not a Nightkeeper, but a stranger. A woman.
    And a hell of a woman, at that.
    The dark-haired beauty was fully decked out for a Nightkeeper op in black Kevlar-impregnated combat pants cut trim across her waist and hips; a tight black thermal shirt under body armor that didn’t entirely camouflage her curves; a weapons belt loaded with guns, jade-tipped ammo, and a good-sized combat knife; and a gleaming black-and-chrome communications band around her upper arm that was part tech-ware, part magic.
    The look packed a hell of punch, as