Free Skykeepers by Jessica Andersen Page A

pull her to her feet, his grip warm and reassuring. She was dimly aware that the cut on her palm had almost healed, that he seemed to have a matching slice—or maybe a scar?—on his own. The raised ridges rubbed one against the other, sparking excitement deep within her.
    Exhaling a deep breath in an effort to smooth out the jagged edges of an attraction that made no sense, she said, “I’m Sasha Ledbetter. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
    “We’ve been looking for you since late last year. We would’ve come for you sooner, but we couldn’t find Ia go’s base of ops. I’m sorry.”
    On one level, the apology made her yearn. On another, it ticked her off. “ We . You mean the Nightkeepers?” The word conjured bedtime stories of warrior heroes, fearsome monsters, and love affairs that changed the world. And there had been a time in her life that she’d imagined herself a Nightkeeper, dreaming of fantastic magical powers, supernatural enemies, and the darkly handsome mage gods-destined to be her mate. But as Ambrose lost his grip on sanity, he’d increasingly claimed the stories were real, until the day he’d taken it too far. The memory brought a twist of nausea. “Let me guess . . . you want me because of my connection to Ambrose, and the library he supposedly hid.”
    He didn’t bother denying it. “That’s part of it.”
    “What’s the other part?”
    “We don’t just need the library, Sasha. We need you . If Ambrose was one of us, then you have power. You’re already showing signs of it.”
    “Bullshit,” she said flatly. “If I’m showing signs of anything, it’s being held hostage for a year.” Except that most of those symptoms were gone, weren’t they? What sort of hypothesis fit with that evidence?
    Trying to settle the sudden churning of her stomach, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the incense-spiced air. When she exhaled, she seemed to lose a layer of tension with the breath. She didn’t lose the buzz of heat, though. If anything, it ratcheted a notch higher, making her want to lean into him. Sucking in another lungful of scented air, she looked up into eyes that were nearly black now, with only a thin line of forest green at the edges. Once she stopped thinking of him as SWAT or a local equivalent, and looked beyond the body armor and weapons to the man beneath, there was something grimly piratical about him, a ruthless air that warned he would take what he wanted. The idea shouldn’t have kicked up her body heat, but it did. So, too, did the long, dark hair brushing his shoulders, and the muscular ripple of his throat as he swallowed, his eyes locked on hers.
    In that breathless, charged moment, she saw his desire, and knew it reflected her own. Which was abso-fucking-lutely nuts. The last thing she should be thinking about was sex. But somehow that was the only thing she could imagine at that moment. Sex. With him.
    A shiver worked its way down her neck when she realized what that evidence suggested. More drugs. “What the hell is in this smoke?”
    “It’s just copan ,” he answered. “Sacred incense.” A pause. “Why? What are you feeling?”
    Like he didn’t know. She gritted her teeth, suddenly grateful for the too-big sweatshirt, which covered the pebble-hard points of her nipples. You know damn well what I’m feeling , she thought. You’re feeling it, too . Unless he wasn’t, which was a hell of a sobering thought . . . and wouldn’t be the first time she’d mistaken a man’s intentions.
    Although she hadn’t answered, he seemed to take her wince as a response. “This”—he waved at the carved stones surrounding them—“was a Nightkeeper temple. If you’re getting a buzz, it’s because of the residual power in the stones. That’s why we’re here—the others’ll be joining us soon. When they do, we’ll use the power boost from the stones to teleport out.” Again, he watched her speculatively.
    “You’re insane.” But