On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(61)
Author: Gena Showalter

Frustration beat at him—that she wouldn’t listen to reason; that because he had been making love to her instead of hunting, the zotz had taken human victims and patched their wings; that he and Natalie were the only ones at ground zero when there should’ve been hundreds of magic users holding the barrier.

"I know you want the skull back," he said carefully as he reset the security system—futile, maybe, but at least they might get some warning of an incoming attack. "Believe me, I do, too." Though not for the same reason. She saw it as her identity. At the moment, he considered it an enemy asset.

"But while we’re trying to find the hell mouth, the zotz will be going after the villagers." The certainty curdled thick and cold in his veins. "More people are going to die."

"Yes, they are." Her eyes were shadowed with grief, her voice steady with purpose as she swapped his sweats for her beat-up clothes from the day before. "But how many will die if the camazotz use the skull for an equinox ritual?" When he didn’t have an answer for that one, she nodded. "Thought so. Which means we need to get the skull back and destroy the hell mouth."

He scowled, hating the hell out of the situation. "I should’ve run you and your team out of the area when I had the chance."

"I would’ve come back." fully dressed now, she moved to face him, so they stood toe-to-toe in the center of the main room. She looked up at him, reached up to cup his face in her palms. "It’s time to stop defending your perimeter and go on the offensive."

"Winikin don’t do offense," he grated, trying not to notice how her warmth seeped into him, trying not to remember the things her soft scent made him want to dwell on.

"I do," she countered. "So what does that make me?"

"Mine," he rasped. And he leaned down and kissed her long and deep, trying to let his touch tell her what he couldn’t say aloud.

Damn it. He was way out of his depth and sinking fast. He didn’t know what she was or what the gods intended for them—if, indeed, the gods were still in charge. All he knew was that his life had been changing since she had come into it; he had been changing. And he didn’t want to be alone anymore.

As he molded her body against his, rampant desire raced through him, a mix of sexual need and hard, hot protective urges. He wanted to lock her in the house and keep her safe, wanted to surround her with a protective force field, wanted to—hell, he wanted to put her in a bubble where nothing could touch her except him.

But as he gentled his kiss and slid his hands down her arms, so their fingers linked and held, he knew that would make him no better than the masters he had once served. Because it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be out there, in the thick of the action. She wanted to find herself, wanted to find answers.

"You scare the hell out of me," he said against her mouth.

Drawing back, she looked up at him, her eyes smoky with passion, her lips moist and full. "We have to go after the skull, JT. I just know it, deep down inside." She flattened her palm over his heart. "I know it in here."

He closed his eyes, for the first time in his life wishing that he were a magic user. Because then he could’ve hit her with a sleep spell and kept her safely snoring until the equinox was over. Except that she was right. They couldn’t ride this one out. Something had to give.

And that something, apparently, was him.

"Okay. We’ll do it your way." He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her a moment longer.

Then he let her go and stepped away. "Come on," he said, heading for the trick door that led to his office . . . and the weapons cache beyond. "If we’re going after the bastards on their own turf, we’re going to need some serious firepower."

Chapter Six

As they headed into the forest, Natalie didn’t know whether it was the approaching equinox or the knowledge that the two of them were doing what they had been born to do, but the magic was working. She could see a golden sparkle in the air; it flowed in a thin, translucent ribbon, leading her onward as the blue-black of dawn became the gray of morning.

Behind her, JT was heavily armed and carrying enough explosives to collapse a dozen nesting tunnels. And if part of her worried that he would want to simply collapse the hell mouth, sacrificing the skull to avoid a direct fight, she had decided that she would deal with that if and when it happened. Because one thing was certain: She had to get the skull back. It was a tangible link to the magic. More, it was hers.

"This can’t be right." He kept his voice low, but the concern in his tone was evident. "We’ve circled around. The village can’t be more than five, ten minutes west of here, max. There’s nothing in this area but a couple of carved pillars. No temple, no hell mouth."

"We’re practically on top of it," Natalie said, looking back over her shoulder at him as she stepped between two wide tree trunks and through a waist-high layer of thick, leafy ferns. "Trust me."

"It’s not about trust. It’s—" He broke off. "Gods help us," he whispered, the words coming from both shock and prayer as he looked beyond her.

Natalie spun. And gaped.

The clearing that opened in front of them held the broken pillars he had mentioned. But that wasn’t all. Where before there had been only a few scattered stones, now there were dozens of intact pillars as well, their carvings crisp and new, the bat glyphs prominent.

The pillars formed a circular perimeter around a huge opening where the earth had fallen through to reveal the path of an ancient underground river. The dry riverbed came up to almost the surface on one side, then sloped down and split into three dark-mouthed tunnels, where tributaries had once flowed. The cave walls were incised with hieroglyphs; the central tunnel had life-size camazotz carved on either side.

There was no sign of the creatures themselves, but the air smelled of rotting flesh. This was their home. Their origin.

Gods, Natalie thought, the plural seeming suddenly right.

She had walked right across the clearing a few days earlier and it had felt like solid earth. Either the equinox had opened the hell mouth, or the skull was somehow involved.

A shadow moved within the central tunnel.

"Get down!" JT hissed, yanking her below the level of the leafy ferns, where they would be hidden. Once they were both down, he parted several fronds and looked through. "Shit. "

A line of skeletal, patchy-skinned camazotz were emerging from the center tunnel, their steps slow and uneven.

He whispered, "They must’ve just come through the barrier, which means they’ll be hungry and looking for hides." He glanced at her. "Can you still sense the skull?"