by N. D. Jones
“Dammit, no dial tone.” The phone cracked and broke in Zarina’s hand.
Bambara swore then dropped to all fours. His back, shoulder, and arm muscles were the first to break. No matter how many times she’d transmutated, or seen it done, Mafdet never got used to the brutal sound of bones breaking and popping out of sockets. Nor did she enjoy the sight of skin stretched to the point of ripping, giving way to jutting bones and torn ligaments that reformed and fused together in grinding spasms of power and pain.
Paws and retractable claws hit the carpet. Golden fur ran the length of Bambara’s six-foot, five-hundred-pound body, from his wide head with a dark, long mane, down to his long, swishing tail with a tuft of fur on the end.
Bambara opened his wide mouth to roar but stopped at Zarina’s hand to his side. “Let’s give them no warning.”
The walkie-talkie crackled again. “Virith?”
“No, Adul.” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed sandpaper, normal after a transmutation back to human form. “Armed men.”
“We know. Slip out and call local law enforcement.”
“Can’t. Tried. All exits are blocked by humans in tactical gear and with automatic weapons. Trapped.”
What in the hell was going on? They weren’t at war with Vumaris. Who’d sent these men to Sanctum Hotel? Sliding her gun from her holster, she turned to Zarina and Bambara.
The sekhem had ripped material from the bottom of her blue dress and had used it to cover her mouth and nose. She would still inhale the Basilisk Smoke, the same as Mafdet and Bambara, but the makeshift bandana would help.
“I don’t think the gas is meant to kill us.” Zarina handed Mafdet a strip of her dress. “They’re trying to rout us from the suite. If the two of you are ready, let’s oblige the bastards then get my daughter and then the hell out of here.”
Mafdet tied the strip of material at the back of her buzz-cut head, covering her face from below her eyes to over her mouth. Whoever was in the hallway, several of them from the steps they couldn’t conceal from a person with enhanced hearing, may have been waiting for them to exit. That didn’t mean, however, that Mafdet would lead her alphas into a trap.
“Follow me.”
Mafdet swung open the balcony doors and walked onto the enclosure. She could try screaming. But, from the height, no one would hear her. Not that she saw anyone on the street below. They’d chosen Sanctum Hotel because it was a short drive to the First Evolution Union’s headquarters but also because it was far enough away from the country’s capital that their presence would go unnoticed by locals and the media. Sanctum Hotel served both purposes. As Mafdet calculated her odds of getting the royal family out of the hotel and home safely, she wished they hadn’t chosen such an isolated area to stay. For the first time in her long life, Mafdet would drop to her knees in supplication to see a group of humans milling about—nosy, loud, but also likely to help a felidae in need.
“We can make it onto the balcony below us or jump to the one next door.”
Zarina had followed her onto the balcony. She’d removed her heels, but the sekhem was still three inches taller than Mafdet. “We should drop to the balcony below, while Bambara should claim the balcony across from us. They won’t expect an attack from two separate fronts. Do you agree?”
She did. Mafdet holstered her weapon. “Hard and fast. Anyone who stands between us and Asha dies.”
“That’s a given. Let’s go.”
With graceful leaps that weren’t choreographed, Bambara and Zarina jumped at the same time, landing soundlessly on their respective balconies. Shaking her head at the couple, Mafdet followed Zarina onto the balcony under her. It didn’t take more than a palm heel strike to break the door’s lock. She didn’t hear more than a soft clinking of glass hitting the balcony floor above her, which meant Bambara had changed forms to make getting into the suite smoother and quieter than he would’ve as a lion.
She and Zarina entered the suite, heading straight for the front door. They stopped and listened. Mafdet heard nothing but waited for Zarina to finish her telepathic conversation with her mate before proceeding into the hallway. Not all mates could communicate in such a manner. Of those who could, the ability only existed when one or more of them were in their feline form. Yet on infrequent occasions, Zarina could reach Asha’s mind, regardless of either of their forms.
“Bambara is ready. He says he heard someone knocking then going into Asha’s room.”
“Can you reach her?”
“It’s difficult, on my best day, to get through the weeds that are a teen’s mind. Lately, Asha’s head is so full of Ekon that reaching her telepathically is near impossible.”
Mafdet assumed as much. But she had to be sure.
Instead of reaching for her gun again, Mafdet freed her sword from the thigh sheath. Ekon had asked her what she’d named the blade. She’d never been one to become attached to inanimate objects to the point of wasting her time in naming them. So, she hadn’t answered his question.
But as she reacquainted herself with the familiar weight of the sword, her right hand on the doorknob, a name came to mind.
The blade had been a gift from Sekhem Zarina, a token of the lioness’s affection, trust, and loyalty. “I’m returning to you your claws. Use it well, my friend.”
On silent feet, they exited the suite. On this floor, she neither smelled gas nor heard intruders. With the tip of her blade, she pointed to the ceiling.
Zarina nodded. Together, they stalked to the stairwell. As before, she paused and listened before opening the door.
Nothing.
They ascended the stairs, the smell of humans and gas increasing with each step.
Mafdet didn’t have to ask Zarina if she were ready. The second her bare feet hit the landing, her lethal fangs had descended, and her fingernails had turned into vicious claws. They would soon be stained red, as would Mafdet’s blade.
Slowly, she opened the stairwell door. Smoke filled the hallway, but the toxins, as Zarina had surmised, weren’t powerful. The intruders had indeed been trying to flush them from their suite.
They exited at the same time Bambara crashed through the suite door. Between them were at least fifteen humans dressed, as Adul had said, in tactical gear. They wore gas masks and held automatic weapons.
Bambara attacked.
Shouting ensued. Screams.
Weapons raised. Feet thudded.
An alpha lion roared.
With Bambara’s roar, the element of surprise no longer existed. So, she yanked out her gun, firing at the heads of the nearest humans.
Zarina took off down the hall. Her burst of speed was almost as fast as Mafdet. The sekhem sliced throats as she went, aiming her claws at the vulnerable sweet spot between bulletproof vest and the sealed gas mask covering at the humans’ chins.
Mafdet didn’t follow her alpha. Instead, she planted herself near the stairwell and the corner of the hallway that led to the other side of the floor. Bambara had claimed the opposite end, with Zarina in the middle.
More armed humans rushed around the corner. Some in tactical gear but others dressed like front desk workers—white shirt, burgundy suit, and burgundy and white striped tie.
Mafdet met them head-on, driving her sword into throats, chests, and eyes. She sliced tendons, ears, and wrists. Shot kneecaps then finished the enemy with a bullet to the brain.
She reloaded.
Gunfire and growls raged behind her. She wanted to run toward Bambara and Zarina. But more enemies poured from the stairwell and from around the corner.
Neither Virith nor Adul had known how many enemies had descended on Sanctum Hotel. Were her fellow Shieldmanes still alive? Had they been overrun by the humans? Would Mafdet and the royal couple?
She shoved her blade into the ear of the nearest enemy, a human woman with a nose ring and a gun that discharged on her way down. The bullet scored her side, blazing a path of searing pain as it went in and out. The second bullet slammed into
her shoulder. No exit but a cracked bone.
Gritting through the pain, Mafdet threw everything she had at the onslaught of armed men and women. They rushed her with fists and guns. Her felidae cheetah speed and years of combat kept her upright and in the battle.
Snatching weapons from the dead, her empty handgun useless, she met their fire with her own. One by one, they rounded the corner, getting a face full of bullets. They dropped to their knees, a pile of dead and dying bodies—Mafdet’s unplanned but much-needed barrier.
She chanced a glance behind her. The couple had their backs to each other, bleeding, but fighting as they lived—a unified front.
Asha flipped from one television station to the next, her mind more on the way Ekon had made her body feel than on finding a show for them to watch before Mafdet took over the post and sent Ekon to his suite. While Zarina had raised Asha to speak her mind, she had also taught her to do so with forethought and care. Zarina had a tendency to shock people, but not because she hadn’t calculated the impact of her words before uttering them. But her mother had yet to teach her how to curb her thoughts when her body wanted to do the talking for her.
Foregoing the television, she clicked it off and dropped the remote control onto the couch cushion beside her. She ached in places she wanted Ekon to touch. If she were alone in the suite and in her bed, she’d close her eyes, slip her hand inside her panties and—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Opening eyes that had closed of their own volition and dropping the hem of her dress she hadn’t consciously lifted, Asha sat up—embarrassed and breathless.
The knock came again.
Asha stood. Waited. A Shieldmane would announce themself, even Mafdet who had a key to the suite. Her parents would call if they required something of her, expecting Asha to come to them, not the other way around.
By the time the third round of knocking sounded, Asha had moved closer to the door, scenting more than the human on the other side.
“Miss. Miss. Are you inside? We have an emergency. We need to evacuate this floor.”
The man knocked again—hard and urgent.
Peering through the peephole, she saw a tall man dressed in the same uniform she’d seen the front desk workers wear. He appeared both anxious and impatient. If there was a fire or gas leak, the man’s emotions were justified. Asha and Ekon needed to get out of there.
She unlocked and opened the door. Mistake. Asha stepped backward and the human stepped forward, shutting the door behind him.
A gun she hadn’t seen through the peephole pointed at her.
“Don’t scream. Don’t fight. If you follow my directions, you won’t get hurt.”
If he didn’t have a gun leveled at her stomach, Asha could’ve misinterpreted his smile as a sign of kindness.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No, I’m making the world better for humans.” Gun hand steady, the man who clearly wasn’t a hotel employee scanned the outer room of the suite. “Is someone in here with you? A guard?” Green eyes tracked up and down her body. “Yeah, as pretty as you are, there has to be a guard nearby. Where? Bedroom? Bathroom?”
Asha wouldn’t tell a lie only to be caught in one, but she also wouldn’t reward the human’s threat of violence with the truth.
“Fine. I’ll take your silence as a yes.” He drew closer, blond hair pulled back in a shoulder-length ponytail Asha would rip from his scalp if given an opportunity to strike. “We’ll just wait right here for whoever is in that other room to come out.”
They waited. It didn’t take long since Ekon had already been in the en suite for five minutes. Asha knew why he’d made a quick escape. She hadn’t been toying with him when she’d asked to see him naked. She’d very much wanted to feast upon his body . . . and with more than her eyes.
The door to the en suite creaked open.
The human shoved the barrel of the gun against her ribs, his breath smelling of cigarettes when he whispered in her ear, “I knew someone was in here with you. You’re too important to be left alone. But didn’t your parents ever warn you about opening doors to strangers?” His other hand found one of Asha’s curls and twisted it around his finger. “I told them I could get you to open the door for me. It was the uniform, wasn’t it? No need to answer, little girl. Now, let’s see who came to play.”
Ekon appeared in the living room, having reached them on soundless feet. If not for the creaking door, the human would’ve never known he approached. As it was, though, it was Ekon who was taken by surprise.
Asha saw the moment her gentle boyfriend morphed into her deadly Shieldmane. His eyes darkened, eyeteeth lengthened, sharpened, and his fingernails transformed into long, curved claws.
Ekon stalked toward Asha, his focus on the gunman.
In a swift upward movement, the human pointed his handgun at Asha’s head. “Calm down, kitty, or I’ll splatter her brains all over this white carpet.”
Ekon halted.
“That’s good. Real good. Put those fangs and claws away, friend.”
“I’m not your friend. If you want to make it out of this room alive, you need to get that gun away from her and leave.”
“Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen. She’s why we’re here. Where we go, she goes. You’re the one I don’t need.”
A lion roared, and Asha had never heard a more beautiful sound.
“That would be my father.”
The roar was followed by gunfire, then what sounded like all-out war in the hall.
“Fuck! Fuck! What in the hell are those guys doing?”
“They’re fighting my parents, which means they’re dying. If you give Ekon your gun, you won’t have to die with them.”
“Shut up. Come here.” He yanked her dress, twirling her around, her back to his front, and his gun to the side of her head. “You’re my ticket out of here. We’re going to wait right here. We came prepared to take this hotel. We ran into two of you felidae on the way up and neutralized both. The same with the hotel employees, so don’t think I won’t shoot your cute little mouthy ass too. You and your boyfriend.”
“I’m her Shieldmane.”
“You’re a kid with a cum stain on your pants, that’s what you are. You should’ve been out here guarding her when I knocked, instead of in the bathroom squirting in your shorts. You shut up too. I need to think.”
Ekon seemed torn between lunging at the gunman while trusting Asha to get out of the way for his attack, and morbid fear of making the wrong decision and causing the human to shoot and kill her. Not for the first time, Asha wished she and Ekon shared the kind of bond as her parents. She could hear them fighting. Asha didn’t need to see them to know they fought as one deadly alpha—Sekhem and Khalid.
The three of them stood there in silence, listening as the battle waged on the other side of the door. The longer it did, and the more shots she heard, the more ill she became. Her parents retreated from no foe, and neither did Mafdet, who would be out there fighting alongside her parents. If they died, were killed, what would happen to Shona? To Ekon? To her?
Asha wouldn’t wait to find out. “The lion said: I am the best one to take care of my business.”
“I said, shut up.”
“Panthera Leo proverb.”
“What?”
“It means you’re lion food.”
Moving quicker than ever before, Asha reached behind her, slashed the arm of the hand holding the gun with claws pushed through her fingers.
The gun fired. Went wide.
First and only chance to kill her.
Spinning, Asha darted behind the human, grabbed him by his ponytail and tossed him over her shoulder and into the circular pit.
Ekon bolted after the human and then he was on him, claws ripping through clothing and flesh.
The human screamed, fought, begged.
Asha recovered his dropped weapon, pointed it at him then lowered her arm.
Ekon’s bloody mouth lifted from the gapi
ng hole in the human’s neck. He spat something onto the blood-ruined couch. Asha didn’t want to know what.
She glanced down at her right hand. In her tight fist was a blond ponytail. Asha let it fall.
Wiping his mouth on his white shirtsleeve, Ekon approached, the gun she’d forgotten he’d placed under the couch pillow in his right hand. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“Good. Keep that gun but stay behind me.”
Smoke assaulted her senses when they opened the door, as did the smell of blood. Asha raised the gun. She’d never shot one before but assumed her enhanced eyesight would help with her aim.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“It’s me.” Zarina removed a bandana from her face. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”
Asha all but collapsed into her mother’s arms. A sob broke from her.
“We have you. No tears. There will be time enough for them, once we get out of this hotel of horrors.”
A big, furry body rubbed against her, and Asha released one of her hands from her mother’s neck to stroke her father’s mane. They were reunited. Everything would be fine. Her parents were there.
“We need to go.” Mafdet yanked off her bandana.
Asha smiled. Mafdet had also survived. But two of the Shieldmane hadn’t, according to the gunman. He hadn’t smelled of lies, so she’d believed him. But what of the other two?
Zarina laced her fingers through Asha’s. “Adul said all the exits are blocked.” She picked up two weapons from the dead, handing one to Mafdet and keeping the other for herself. “We’ll have to fight our way out of here. If we hide, they’ll eventually find and kill us. I have no intention of cowering in a corner awaiting my death. Ekon, the blood on you means you’ve protected my daughter once this evening; continue to do so. Asha, if we fall, do what you must to survive.”
“Mom, I . . .” Blinding tears filled her eyes.
“There’s no shame in crying or dying, my hafsa, only in not living and trying. Do you want me to give you your sekhem name now?”
She didn’t. If Asha accepted her sekhem name, it would be an admission that her parents, her mother, wouldn’t survive the battle out of Sanctum Hotel. She refused to think about that cruel fate.
