by N. D. Jones
“Don’t make me. I don’t want . . . I can’t . . .”
Bambara’s cold nose bumped into Asha’s hand—his love a silent boon to her heart.
Zarina hugged and kissed Asha. Their embrace lingered, even as Asha knew they needed to get away from the pools of blood, scattered dead bodies, and waning smoke.
A hand to her lower back—Ekon’s—got her going. She walked in front of him and behind Zarina. Mafdet and Bambara walked in tandem, with Mafdet opening the stairwell door for the lion, who then took the lead down the ten flights of steps to the hotel lobby.
No one spoke and, with each step, the heavier the gun felt in her hand, the sweatier she became, and the faster her heart pounded.
Mafdet opened the stairwell door that led to the lobby, peeked her head out and swore. “It’s a small army out there. There’s no way we can sneak past them.”
“They want Asha. That’s what the human in her suite told us.” Ekon held her hand. “I wouldn’t let him have her, and I won’t let whoever is out there have her either.”
“No one can have my daughter. Those spineless, greedy bastards. All of this violence because Bambara and I refused to sign their addendum. When will humans learn? Everything can’t be negotiated or taken by force.”
Zarina wrapped Asha in another hug. Two more massive arms engulfed them both—Bambara.
He’d transmutated so quickly she hadn’t noticed.
“This isn’t goodbye,” her father said, his chin on the top of her head. “We’ll see you again, hafsa. If not in this lifetime, then the next.”
“No, Dad.”
“Your mother and I need you to go with Ekon and Mafdet. They are sworn to protect you, just as your mother and I are sworn to protect Shona from people like Royster and London. It’s our duty as khalid and sekhem. We will not hide or run. But, today, this one time, we need you to do both. We need you to survive. That’s the only way we can leave you to do what we must.”
“Don’t leave. Please, Daddy. Mommy, don’t leave.”
Zarina kissed her forehead again. “I’ll give you your sekhem name now.”
“No. No. I don’t want it. I don’t . . .”
Ignoring Asha’s teary protests, her mother whispered the name into her ear.
Asha cried. No. No. Too soon. In twenty, maybe thirty years but not now. Not here. Not like this.
“We love you,” her parents said.
“No, please.” Ekon and Mafdet dragged her up the stairs.
She kept her watery gaze on her parents until they disappeared through the stairwell door. Her father didn’t roar. He gave no warning that an alpha lion approached. For two long minutes, she heard nothing.
Zarina, the alpha lioness, was hunting. She’d hunted beside her mother many times. No prey ever escaped her. But her parents were but two lions against—
The noise of gunfire ended the silence with booming percussion. More and more gunfire sounded from the lobby, and Asha made to run back down the stairs. But Mafdet shoved her toward Ekon.
“Take her. I’m going back.”
“But the sekhem said—”
“I know what Zarina said. But she forfeited the right to command me when she handed her title over to Asha. And right now, Asha is in no position to command anyone. Don’t let her get caught. If she does, who knows what they’ll do to her.”
“You mean . . . No, I won’t let that happen.”
“Be sure you don’t. Asha? Asha? Are you listening? Do not go into shock.” Mafdet appeared in front of her, her face graver than she’d ever seen it. “Do you remember what to do if you are in the clutches of men?” Fingers snapped in front of her face. “Come on. Cry later. Remember your mother’s words now. What did she tell you to do?”
“T-t-transmutate.”
“That’s right. Stay in lion form. Stay in that form for as long as you can. I promise, if you’re caught, I’ll come for you. Do you hear me, Asha? I’ll come for you.”
“I won’t let them take her from me.”
“You better not.”
Like Zarina, Mafdet kissed Asha’s forehead.
She nodded to Ekon behind Asha, unsheathed her blade, and held it up to him. “Her name is Mafdet’s Claws.”
Then she too was gone. Speeding down the stairs, away from Asha, and toward a bloody death.
Stunned, Asha stared after Mafdet. Her only solace was that she still heard the ringing of gunfire. Her parents fought on, but how much longer would they last?
Ekon tugged her arm. “Come on.”
Asha went.
Chapter 4: Unwavering Loyal One
Where should we go? What should I do? Ekon had no idea. But he had to do something. The alphas and Mafdet had left Asha in his care. His, a Shieldmane with a year to claim as experience. But not for this, not as the sole protector of the heir to the Kingdom of Shona.
Heir. Asha might very well be sekhem, depending on how her parents fared. Ekon didn’t want to think about them not surviving or what would befall Shona if they didn’t. Was Asha ready to serve as leader of their people? They would follow her, but in what direction would she lead them? He felt disloyal having such thoughts, especially in light of the role he’d been thrust into—trained but not prepared—like Asha.
She yanked her hand from his, slamming the other into the stairwell door marked with the number thirteen.
Wasn’t thirteen an unlucky number in some human societies? “Let’s keep going up,” he suggested, unsure where to take her but knowing they needed to get as far away from the lobby as they could.
“No.”
“Come on, Asha. Now isn’t the time to let out your stubborn lioness.”
“I’m not being stubborn. We don’t transmutate into winged beasts. There’s no exit on the upper floors. We need either to return to the lower level or find a place on this floor to make our stand.”
“Stand? With what? Two guns? Did you not hear all of that firepower down there?”
Asha marched through the stairwell door onto unlucky floor number thirteen.
Shit. Glancing down the steps, but neither seeing nor hearing anyone, Ekon followed. What choice had Asha left him?
“They aren’t dead.”
“I didn’t say they were.”
“No, but you think they are.”
Ekon did, but Asha wasn’t looking for him to confirm her fears. She wanted a distraction from her painful thoughts and, if starting a pointless argument with him gave her temporary respite, he didn’t mind being her punching bag.
But Asha said nothing more. She only huffed and increased her speed down the hallway, trying every suite door but finding them all locked.
“If you find one you like, I can get us inside.”
“They’ll check every floor for me. If they find a door unlocked, they’ll search. Maybe we should break into all of them. Do you think that’ll slow them down if they have to search many rooms?”
Ekon had no idea, but they rounded the other side of the floor with no better plan than they’d had when they’d run up the stairs. “I’m supposed to keep you safe.”
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
Asha whirled on Ekon, shoving him against the wall with a strong palm to his chest. “I said you can’t, and I won’t have you dying trying to do what my parents and Mafdet couldn’t. We’re lying to ourselves. My parents wanted to give me time to escape, but I have no clue how to get out of this wretched hotel with my freedom intact.”
The hand on his chest gentled but stayed where it was. Ekon covered her hand, rubbing circles on the back with his thumb.
“We have each other. Don’t give up on us now . . . on me.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m trying to think like my mother. Like a sekhem.”
The word broke from Asha, and her body fell into his, her gun clanking to the floor. She wept. The sight curled his insides. Ekon wanted to turn into his lion, so he could hunt down and kill everyone who’d brought Asha to this place
of pain and grief. Right now, Ekon could do none of those things, so he held his gun in one hand and Asha with the other.
They couldn’t stay still long, but he was loath to rush her. She’d likely lost both her parents, as well as Mafdet who wasn’t simply Asha’s First Shieldmane but her godmother. He wished he had more to offer her than words of condolence and a chest to cry on.
Ekon kissed her temple. “Come on. Let’s see if we can make it to the restaurant. It leads to a loading area. Maybe we can exit that way or find an outside line and call for help.”
If they were lucky, they’d run into another Shieldmane. Unfortunately, luck hadn’t favored the Shona this night.
“It’s too late.” Stumbling, she pushed away from him. “It’s too late.”
“What do you mean?”
Hands clutched her head, grabbing at hair and pulling. As if she’d been shot in the back, Asha lurched forward then collapsed to her knees. Heart-wrenching wails poured from her—the sound of a shattered heart dipped in lost innocence.
“No, Mommy. Don’t go,” Asha begged, her desperation reducing her to a child’s state. “Please. Please. Don’t leave me alone.”
Asha’s forehead dropped to the burgundy floral print runner. She tugged at her curly locks, pulling them with a force that had to hurt.
Ekon bent to help her to her feet, but she pushed him away with a strength rivaled only by the agony he witnessed in her shivering body and endless sobs.
He slid down the wall, helpless to comfort the young woman he could only now admit to loving. Why had it taken blood and death for Ekon to realize the depth of his feelings for Asha? Was it pity? Guilt? Her vulnerability and his desire to be her hero, the Shieldmane who would save her when the others had died trying?
No. Those couldn’t be the reasons. Yet, watching Asha disintegrate before Ekon’s eyes, her grief sour fruit on his tongue, he was honest enough to admit that if by some miracle they survived, they would never be what they once were.
Innocent.
Trusting.
Whole.
Asha cried, screamed, swore, and threatened all manner of vile death on humans.
If the enemy came, they would find them—her hunched on the floor, a lioness on the verge of madness—and him on his ass, staring at his gun like he would his limp dick. Both useless without the right motivation.
Ekon crawled to Asha, scooped her in his arms, and held her through the worst of her tears. She didn’t fight or push him away. Asha submitted to him which, in a way, was worse than her angry shove had been.
When she quieted, his shirt wet from her tears, he helped her to her feet. Asha didn’t protest Ekon guiding her down a different stairwell from the one they’d ascended. She also said nothing when he pulled her into storage closets, shoved her against walls, and had her crawl behind furniture to avoid the search teams.
Reaching the hotel’s restaurant had taken longer than expected, but they’d made it without being caught. Ekon pointed to the restaurant’s glass walls. When they’d eaten there earlier, everyone had thought the glass added ambiance, giving the restaurant an open feel, which felidae appreciated. Now, Ekon would trade the see-through walls for drywall or plaster.
Without needing to be told, Asha half crouched, half crawled. In minutes, they’d reached the back of the restaurant and the kitchen.
“There’s a phone,” Asha whispered. She snatched the black phone receiver off the wall near the swinging doors that led into the dining area. The small light of hope he’d seen in her eyes, when she’d spotted the phone, died almost as soon as it had appeared. “No dial tone.”
“Okay, then let’s see about the loading area.”
“You go, I’ll look around in here. See what I can find.”
“Like what? Knives?” He raised a hand, showing her the beginning of a claw. “We got cutting and stabbing covered. What we need is an exit . . . or a plan. An exit plan.”
“Go.”
“But . . .”
“I’m not going anywhere. But I would like a minute to myself, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, umm, of course. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. My safety is your job.”
“That’s . . .” He didn’t like the emotionless way she’d spoken about him being her Shieldmane as if he stayed by her side for duty alone. Once he got them far away from Sanctum Hotel, they would talk. Until then, Ekon needed to keep focused on his goal.
Saving Asha.
It didn’t take him long to find the chained door to the loading area. Ekon had considered breaking the chains with his bare hands but retreated at the sound of talking on the other side of the door.
Hustling back to inform Asha of their continued run of bad luck, Ekon’s lion almost broke free when he didn’t see Asha by the dangling phone. But he’d calmed and followed her scent to a walk-in freezer. Asha sat on the floor at the back of the freezer, shelves of plastic water and soda bottles, and bags and boxes of food on each side of her.
“Close the door. As long as that handle works, we won’t get locked in. I doubt anyone will think to look for me in here. No luck with the door to the loading area?”
“It’s chained. I can break it, but that’s not my concern.”
Taking a second to run back to the phone Asha had left hanging, Ekon returned it to the cradle. They might not think to look for them in the freezer, but they could if they saw evidence that someone had been in the kitchen.
Sparing another look at the, thankfully, empty kitchen, Ekon closed the freezer door. He preferred the heat but didn’t mind the relative safety of the cool freezer. First securing his gun on the same shelf as Asha’s, Ekon lowered to the floor to sit beside her, his back against the freezer wall like hers.
“I heard men outside, that’s why I didn’t try to break the chain and lock. I’ll check again, in a little while. For now, I think we’re safe.”
“For now, yes.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened upstairs?”
“No.” Soft. Final. Asha reached over and held his hand. “I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
“None of this is your fault.”
“I know it’s not my fault, Ekon. Trust me, I’m quite clear who’s to blame.”
“Silas Royster and Frank London?”
“Them. Their party. And whoever the group is they hired to hunt and kill us the way the Fatherland Party once did. We thought those barbaric times were two centuries behind us. We were wrong.”
“You sound like you have a plan.”
“Slaughtering, murdering, maiming. Do you consider that a sane woman’s plan or a serial killer’s weekend itinerary?”
Ekon had no clue how to answer Asha’s coldly stated question, but he didn’t have to because she lifted the palm of his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss. “Until a lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter.”
Asha did love her Panthera Leo proverbs. She consumed books like she did water and food. Asha had been known to disappear for hours, her mother sending Ekon in search of her when she would fail to return for dinner. Invariably, he would find her either reading or swimming. Most days, she had done both by the time Ekon had located her. She would smile at him and he would, for just a second or two, forget how to breathe.
He wished she would have something for which to smile now.
“We know how to write, but the hunter’s story is still the only one that’s told. That must end. One way or another, it must all come to an end.”
Ekon didn’t like the sound of that. Nothing good bloomed from a heart buried in grief.
Asha kissed his hand again. “Will you become my lover?”
Ekon coughed up his shock. “W-what? Now? Here?”
“Yes to both. We might not get another chance. You know I want you. I have for months.”
She didn’t sound as if she wanted him. In fact, Asha’s voice couldn’t have been more devoid of the playful, passionate girl he’d kissed and c
uddled with on her couch just a couple of hours earlier. Had it only been two hours since humans had disrupted their world with their guns and plan to kidnap a member of the royal Shona family?
“The freezer of a restaurant isn’t the place where you should lose your virginity.”
“I also shouldn’t die at eighteen—virgin or not.” She placed his hand back on his lap. “It’s fine. It was unfair of me to ask.” Rising onto her knees, she faced him—eyes watery red. “Mom bestowed on me my sekhem name. But she did more than that. She gave me a charge.”
“A charge? How can a name also be a charge?”
“It simply is. No matter how well tamed a lion, he will always go back to the bush.”
“Asha, talk to me.”
“I am talking. Do not try to fight a lion, if you aren’t one yourself.”
“You’re spouting proverbs. That’s not talking.”
Asha pushed to her feet. “I’m speaking clearly, but you aren’t listening carefully.” She backed away from him, their eyes locked. “I know what I must do. My charge is clear.”
“What charge?” Ekon vaulted to his feet. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
Asha retreated more, stopping when her back hit the freezer door. “You’re a fine Second Shieldmane, Ekon Ptah. You have honored yourself and your family well this night.”
“Don’t speak to me like a sekhem. We’re more than that to each other.”
“We are.” Asha nodded. “We definitely are.” Her hand grasped the door handle and twisted.
“What are you doing? Wait. If you’re planning on checking the loading area door, let me get my gun and come with you.”
Four seconds. Four measly seconds was how long he’d turned away from Asha to grab his gun from the shelf. Four seconds. Not long by any standard. But long enough for her to slip out of the freezer, break the door handle, and lock him inside. She’d done all of that in four fucking seconds.
Ekon rushed to the door, slamming against it with his shoulder. Again. Again. It dented but didn’t give. Shit. “Asha, open the door.” He rammed into the door over and again. He could still smell her. She hadn’t gone far. “I know you’re there. Let me out.”
