The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

The other one shook off their hood. His black hair was cropped close to his head. Like all the other godborns, they looked about my age. The guy was only a couple of inches shorter than me but definitely bulkier. As the pair stood side by side, I saw that they had the same brown eyes with gray flecks, the same dark skin, the same willful chin. They were twins.

Look, I don’t have anything against twins in general. Just Jordan and Bird, the heinous magical mafia pair who want to gut me and hang my organs out to dry. So it’s totally normal that my first thought was PLEASE do not be like those guys.

Lurking in the shadows wasn’t going to earn their trust, so I risked a small step closer to give them a better view of my super-friendly face.

“Stay where you are,” the guy warned. His eyes cut across the lot like he was looking for the best escape route.

I held up one hand in surrender. I couldn’t blame them for being scared. First they encounter a full-on crazed demon, and then some stranger with animal friends shows up and tries to make nice. “Listen…” I said in a calming tone. “I know this is nuts, but I have a lot to tell you and not a lot of time to do it.”

“We know why you’re here,” the girl said. Even though her voice quivered, she looked like the kind of person who would do everything to avoid a fight but anything to win one.

“And you aren’t getting your hands on it.” Her brother’s face hardened in defiance.

It?

Then the boy said, “No matter what,” as he shook his fist at me. Actually shook his fist! And not even in a tough-guy way. More like an I-stayed-up-all-night-watching-YouTube-videos-on-how-to-look-threatening way.

The godborns exchanged a glance, and if I didn’t know better, I would have thought they were talking telepathically—a gift all godborns have, but only if there’s physical contact. But the twins were standing at least three feet apart.

A sudden rush of wings and shimmering air turned the situation (which I had under total control, by the way) into a “Wow” (from the girl) and under-the-breath curses (that was the guy).

Brooks landed next to me in human form, wiped her hands, and flashed a painted-on smile. “I’m Brooks, your neighborhood nawal, also known as a shape-shifter. That dog on the other side of the fence is my sister, Quinn. This is Zane, son of Hurakan, Maya god of storms, wind, and fire. That nasty demon from earlier? She wants something you have—most likely your hearts. We’re here to save you.” She took a breath, smiled again. “Oh, and we’re wasting time and risking everything by standing here talking about it. Can we go now?”

The twins’ shocked gazes shifted from me to Brooks, then back to me like they were trying to decide who was in charge, or maybe who would be slower when they decided to bolt.

“Nawal,” the girl muttered. “God. Demon.” She ticked off each word with her fingers, side-glancing at her brother.

After a few seconds (or maybe telepathic words), he exhaled in relief. “It’s not them, Alana.”

Them? Were they expecting someone else? And did their eyes just flash blue? By the time I took a second look, their ojos were brown again.

Quinn shifted back to her human form and leaned against the fence. “Can you guys speed this up a little? By my calculations, we’ve got about twenty-two minutes before our gateway closes. And even less than that before Ik shows up to claim her prize.”

The guy tugged his sister behind him, creating more distance between us before he said, “You think we’re stupid?”

Was that a trick question? “How should I know? I just met you.” And you did just break into an antiques shop and trip the alarm…. But that could have just been sloppy thieving. “We really do have to get going.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not dumb.” The girl lifted her chin toward Brooks, but it felt forced, like she was trying to look unafraid. “Everyone knows demons like blood and bones the best,” she said. “Hearts are tough and chewy. Not their favorite.”

Whoa! “Who told you that?” I asked. How could they possibly know about demon eating habits? Even I didn’t even know much about their preferences, aside from the fact that they liked to hunt down anything on two or four legs.

“How do we know you’re not a demon?” the guy said as he inched back. He started to raise his fist again, but his sister shot him a look that said You already pulled that card.

“That’s fair,” Brooks muttered.

I tightened my grip on Fuego’s dragon-head handle as I tried to remain patient. “I’m not a demon. I’m a godborn, and so are you. Haven’t you ever noticed you’re different?”

Before they could respond, Quinn became an eagle and flew over the fence. She landed near Brooks, shifting into her human self the second her claws hit the ground. Totally impressive.

“Look, kids,” she said in a strained voice that was bordering on full-throttle annoyance. “Here’s the bottom line: your re

al mommy or daddy is a Maya god. That means you’ve got powers. There are others like you—like Zane. I know, not what you expected, but life’s rough and unfair and oh well. You can’t go back home. Not now, anyway. It’s not safe. And our ticket out of here is going to be gone soon and I’d rather not be here when the demon comes back with her posse. So, you can come willingly, or I can drag you kicking and screaming. Either way, you’re coming with us.”

“I told you,” the guy muttered to his sister.

“Told her what?” Which part? The Maya god stuff? Powers? Life is unfair?

Brooks made a face of disgust. “And how about a thank-you for saving your butts back at the antiques shop?”