Demonkeepers Read Free

debate among the Nightkeepers, particularly the members of the royal council, Jade didn’t think the problem was his humanity, his former demonic connection, or the fact that he’d retained his soul when the library spell had called for its sacrifice. Her instincts said he just needed a jump start, with an emphasis on the “jump” part—as in, he needed to get himself jumped. And if that was bound to make things complicated between them, so be it. She’d made herself scarce for the past five-plus months since his return to Skywatch; she could leave again afterward if she had to. It wasn’t like anyone was begging her to come back. And didn’t that just suck?
    “There’s one big difference between your situation and the other cases you’re talking about.” Anna raised an eyebrow. “Unless there isn’t?”
    And there was the crux of another major debate. Was it the sex magic itself that unlocked the bigger powers, or was the emotional pair- bonding of a mated couple the key, with sex magic as a collateral bonus? Hello, chicken and egg . Of the three couples Jade had named, in the aftermath of the big battles they’d been instrumental in winning, two had gained the jun tan marks signifying them as mated, soul-bound pairs. And although Michael’s connection to death magic prevented him from forming the jun tan , he and Sasha had gotten engaged human-style, diamond ring and all. Which suggested it wasn’t just the sex magic that was important; it was the emotions too.
    Jade had heard the argument before—ad nauseam— but it pinched harder coming from Anna, who had become a good friend in the months since Jade had fled from Skywatch to the university for a crash course in Mayan epigraphy and some breathing room . . . And Anna’s relationship with Lucius went a good six years farther back than that—she’d been his boss, his mentor, and briefly his bond-master under Nightkeeper law.
    “I don’t think it’s a question of love,” Jade said, glancing past Anna’s shoulder to the shelf beyond, where a crudely faked statuette of Flower Quetzal, the Aztec goddess of love and female sexuality, seemed to be smirking at her. Doggedly, she continued: “I think in each of the prior cases, the couples were struggling with identity issues, trying not to lose their senses of self to the magic or their feelings for each other. That won’t be a problem for Lucius and me. I don’t have much in the way of magic, and we’re not . . . Well, we had sex once; that was it.” And oh, holy shit, had that been a disaster. Not the sex, but the way she’d flubbed the aftermath. “We’re just friends now,” she finished. Sort of .
    “The jun tan the others earned through sex magic doesn’t symbolize friendship . . . and neither does what Strike wants you to do.”
    “It’s just sex.” Jade glanced at her friend as a new reason for the cross-examination occurred. “Unless you think he’s still too fragile?” Even with his grisly wounds on the mend, thanks to Sasha’s healing magic, Lucius had been badly depleted in the weeks following his return to the Nightkeepers. He’d been disconnected and clumsy, as though, even with the makol gone from his head, he wasn’t at home inside his own body. More, he’d been deeply ashamed of the weakness, thanks to a childhood spent as the weakling nerd in a family of hard-core jocks. Had his condition deteriorated?
    “Fragile is not the word that comes to mind.” There was an odd note in Anna’s voice.
    “Then what’s with the ‘don’t do it’ vibes?”
    “I think . . .” Anna trailed off, then shook her head. “You know? Forget I said anything. It’s not fair for me to say on one hand that I want Strike to deal me out of the hierarchy, then on the other go running around trying to subvert the royal council’s plan.”
    Jade winced at learning the should-Jade-jump-Lucius discussion hadn’t just been a three- way of her, Strike, and Anna, as she’d thought, but had