by N. D. Jones
“You’re strong, but it’ll take you a little while to force the door off its hinges. Once you do, I’ll be gone, and you’ll be safe.”
“Asha, don’t you dare do this.” He pounded against the door. If he had to, he would break every bone in his hands to get out of there. His hands would heal but not his heart, if something happened to Asha. “Let me out,” he growled. “I need to be with you . . . to protect you.”
“Asha is no longer here. She went away. So far away.”
“No, you’re on the other side of this damn door.” He punched the door again, the reverberation of the blow not as painful as the dawning realization of what Asha planned on doing. “Do not turn yourself in to those barbarians. Do you hear me? Do not go to them.”
“I won’t let them hurt you the way they hurt Mom, Dad, and Mafdet. They’ll pay. I’ll make sure they do. Ms. Choi will arrive in the morning. I know you don’t know her, but she’s a friend. Trust her.”
Ekon heard her shuffle away from the door. He pounded harder, using every part of his body to get out of the freezer and to his Asha. But the door remained intact. She believed he could escape. He despised her faith in him because she was right. He would be free. But it would take time—time he didn’t have to prevent Asha from making the biggest mistake of her life.
But there was nothing he could do to stop her. She would protect him when he should’ve been the one shielding her from harm. “Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. Please, Asha. I . . . I love you.”
The retreating footsteps halted. Ekon knew Asha. She’d been raised too well to give him false hope. Once she settled on a plan, a hunt, she wouldn’t be steered from her course. Not because she didn’t love him but because a sekhem placed nothing above her duty, not even her own safety.
“I love you too.”
Her voice faded, as did her footsteps. But Ekon could’ve sworn, mixed in with a man’s voice yelling at Asha to “Stop right there,” she’d said, “Roaring lions kill no prey.”
Chapter 5: Mother of the Dead
There were so many of them. Too many. Zarina sliced the throat of her opponent, sinking her claws in deep and ripping.
Behind you.
At Bambara’s warning, she ducked and spun toward the enemy behind her, evading the bullet aimed at her head. Up into his groin she drilled her claws, saving some woman the disappointment of having a child fathered by a mercenary bastard. Not that Zarina would leave the male alive. Her next strike cut through his vest and chest.
Blood and gore coated her hands—wet and sticky.
She ran toward Bambara. Her mate was an impressive lion to behold. He attacked with skill and without mercy. His big, heavy body rampaged, knocking over gunmen and tearing into them. But he also bore battle wounds, as did she.
Zarina leapt onto the woman aiming her gun at Bambara, tackling her and breaking her neck before they hit the floor.
Transmutate.
“I don’t have time.”
She couldn’t spare the seconds it would take for her to make the change into her lion form. Zarina wouldn’t risk leaving herself vulnerable and her mate without backup during her transition.
Bambara crashed into another gunman, taking him out at the knees. A shot sounded, and Zarina knew her mate had been hit again. But he made the human pay. With a crunch and a pop, Bambara ripped the shooter’s arm off.
Zarina yanked the gun from the screaming man’s severed arm, sending him to his death with two shots to the head. “You’re bleeding.”
So are you. A lot.
“For her. For Shona. I’ll bleed.”
Yes, for her. For Shona. Always, my love. Shall we finish this?
Another group of armed men and women converged on the lobby. They wouldn’t survive to see Asha or Shona again. Pity. Zarina wasn’t ready to die, and she’d nursed hopes that Asha and Ekon would one day make her a grandmother. She’d even envisioned herself spoiling her grandbabies in a way she hadn’t Asha. Zarina would’ve made a fine grandparent, as would have Bambara.
Even if Asha had children, with Ekon or another felidae of her choosing, Zarina and Bambara wouldn’t be there to witness the blessings of birth or experience the pride of watching their daughter raise her children.
Don’t cry. We’ll see our Asha again.
They would. But they needed to give Asha, Ekon, and Mafdet more time. Mafdet would take care of Asha, after she and Bambara were gone. Mafdet would . . .
Pop. Pop. Pop. In quick succession, three gunmen lurched forward, falling onto the floor, their brains macabre splatters of crimson. Mafdet’s sword sank into the scalp of another gunman, her warrior cry all Zarina needed to shift her thoughts away from the future she wouldn’t have and back to the one life she needed to save.
Zarina and Bambara charged the gunmen. Ducking and dodging, they avoided as many bullets as they could. But not all. Not hardly all.
Her speed, strength, and love of family and kingdom kept Zarina a fluid motion of claws and fangs. With each bullet she took, she killed three humans in return. Yet they still came, drawn to the sound of battle.
She wanted every last one of those barbaric humans in the lobby with them. Every. Single. One. If they were down there, they wouldn’t be upstairs hunting Asha and Ekon.
“Get out of here, Mafdet. I gave you an order to stay with Asha.”
The Shieldmane had the temerity to shake her head. Mafdet pivoted, avoiding an attack from behind, and then plunged her sword into the back of an enemy combatant, ripping a shrill cry from the woman. Forcing the blade down the human’s back, Mafdet jammed it in deep. Bloody saliva spurted from the female’s mouth, silencing her death screams.
Mafdet shoved the dead woman away from her, her sword and hand as red as the blood flowing from her gunshot wounds.
“Go!” Zarina ordered Mafdet.
Pop. Pop. Two bullets ripped into her back. Zarina stumbled forward, cringing from the burning pain but refusing to fall to her knees.
With blinding speed her mate was there, his body as damaged as her own. Yet Bambara had planted himself between Zarina and enemies with a seemingly endless supply of firepower and fighters to rain down hell on them.
One more push, my love. Do you have one more drive in you?
Zarina didn’t. But for Asha, she would muster the strength. “Go to her. Please.” She’d never begged a soul in her life. “Save our Asha. Go, Mafdet, before it’s too late.”
Zarina placed her bloody hand to Mafdet’s cheek, careful to keep her body between the gunmen and the friend she needed to survive.
“Zarina, I . . .”
“I know you love us, but I need you to love Asha more. Don’t let our deaths be in vain.” With all her might, she struck out with both hands, hitting Mafdet in the shoulders and sending her flying across the blood-slicked floor.
“Zarina, noooo,” Mafdet screamed, but she’d already turned away from her.
“One last push.” Zarina sank a hand into her mate’s warm, bloody fur. “I love you, Bambara.”
I love you, Zarina.
They charged, powering over and through the first row of combatants, wounding and killing as many as they could.
The humans fired, unloading endless rounds into their bodies.
Zarina fell first, followed by Bambara. He covered her unmoving form with his own. She wept each time his body jerked. She’d never doubted her mate’s love, just as he’d never questioned hers.
Tell her. While we still breathe, let her know.
His body spasmed above her with each bullet pumped into him. Bambara wouldn’t be able to hold his lion form much longer. Pain and blood loss would force the change. Once that happened, he would succumb to his injuries. Zarina would soon follow. She felt death seeping into her bones.
Tell her.
Zarina reached for Asha’s mind. She focused on memories of her child. Zarina’s belly round with her daughter. The sound of Asha crying her way into the world. Asha crawling onto Bambara’s lap and f
alling asleep. Asha chasing her tail. Asha laughing and playing and . . . Asha, Asha, Asha. Zarina’s mind abounded with thoughts of her and Bambara’s hafsa. Their greatest achievement.
Zarina touched Asha’s mind, relieved to be this close to her daughter one final time. She could sense her pain, grief, and fear. Like mother, like daughter.
Asha, my hafsa, your father and I must go now. We’re sorry to leave you so soon. We’re sorry we won’t see you continue to grow into a sekhem who will rival those who came before. Please know, you are our pride and joy. We leave knowing Shona is in your capable hands. Love her. Protect her. And she will love and protect you. The sun, Asha. You are Shona’s shining sun.
Bambara slid from Zarina’s back, his human body bloody, limp, dying. He smiled his handsome smile at her, closed his lids, and slipped into death.
Zarina filled her eyes with the sight of her beloved, holding his image close for the soul’s journey home. At least they would be together. If she had to die, if one of them couldn’t stay behind with Asha, Zarina was comforted by the fact that they’d ended their time on this plane of existence together.
As one.
You are Sekhem Sekhmet—She Who is Powerful. Wear the title well, Asha. Take care, be fierce, and stay strong. We love you.
Chapter 6: Only One
Ekon climbed over the dented walk-in freezer door, hands bruised and bloody, eyes scanning the kitchen, and ears searching for voices, footsteps, breathing. Hell, any sound would do if it meant the enemy still lurked. If they did, that would mean Asha was still somewhere on the premises. If not . . .
It had taken Ekon twenty interminable minutes to break the freezer door down and free himself from Asha’s trap. No wonder she’d gone willingly to the restaurant with him instead of demanding they make a pointless stand on the thirteenth floor or even hide in one of a half dozen unlocked storage closets they’d stumbled upon.
Running, Ekon bolted from the kitchen, through the restaurant and into the hallway. Shiny floors, tall windows, crystal chandeliers, and not a soul in sight to appreciate the elegant, expensive decor of Sanctum Hotel.
Racing against a time he already missed, Ekon rushed down the hall, around two corners and toward the main lobby. He needed to get the hell out of there and call the police. The sooner he got them involved, the sooner they could help him find Asha.
Ekon skidded around a corner, his boots slipping on something wet . . . on blood. Lots and lots of blood. He fell, breaking his fall with palms to the sticky floor. Not just blood on the floor but dead bodies.
Limbs had been savaged, throats slashed, torsos mauled, and faces sliced.
A cemetery inside a hotel lobby.
The scent of blood—metallic—mixed with the smell of gunpowder—acrid. It slithered its way up his nostrils and into a brain that needed no olfactory assistance to deduce what had occurred there.
Ekon struggled to his feet, careful not to fall again. He made his way through the carnage, glad the beasts were dead but disappointed they hadn’t all been killed before Asha decided to play martyr.
A sound—groaning maybe—had his head snapping up. Body tensed. Claws broke free. Ekon stared in the direction the sound had come—near the front desk. Bullet holes riddled the cherry finish, the same as the walls, and even the floor. Broken and carved-up bodies marked a trail of grisly destruction from one end of the check-in desk to the other. At the end of the desk was . . .
Ekon rushed toward the kneeling figure, his eyes all for her until he saw what held her rapt attention. At the sight, he stumbled to a halt then dropped to his hands and knees. Tears fell, grief constricted his heart, and anger tightened his throat.
No, no, no. Not the khalid and sekhem. Not Asha’s parents. He’d known, when Asha had broken down, that her parents were dead. Ekon had known. But he hadn’t. Not really. Not until he’d knelt beside a weeping Mafdet, a fist balled around her spiked sword handle, the other holding Sekhem Zarina’s lifeless hand.
Ekon hated to look upon his alphas’ dead bodies. Hated to see the damage the arsenal of bullets had done to them. Yet there was a bittersweet beauty to the couple’s death pose. Their faces were turned to the other. Their legs were intertwined. Even their blood had merged in the small space between their bodies, joining them, even in death.
He thought he would be sick. His stomach revolted at the sight of his selfless alphas. They had done nothing to warrant their fate. Yet greed and violence had come for them, a vicious storm of human destruction that had forced them to fight, to kill, and, eventually, to die.
Ekon placed his hand on Mafdet’s shoulder.
Her blade flew to his throat. “Where’s Asha?”
“I . . . uhh, I . . .”
“I asked you a question.” The tip of Mafdet’s sword bit into his throat, drawing blood. “You were supposed to keep her safe. I don’t see or smell her.” Mafdet drew nearer, her face right next to his, her blade hand steady . . . deadly. “You better have hidden her somewhere safe. If you didn’t, if you let those monsters take her from you, I’m going to slit your worthless throat.”
Ekon didn’t doubt Mafdet would follow through with her threat. He gulped. If she wanted to add his life to those already claimed by her blade, then so be it. But both had failed to protect their charges. The odds hadn’t been in their favor. Ekon wouldn’t escape his guilt, but his rational brain whispered the truth. There was nothing anyone could’ve done differently.
“Asha locked me in a kitchen freezer and turned herself in.”
A snarl hovered on the edge of Mafdet’s lips, her eyes molten.
Ekon thought she would slice his throat open.
Mafdet shoved his shoulder. Hard.
He fell onto his bottom, knees bent.
“She did it to save your sorry ass, didn’t she?”
Ekon nodded, feeling every bit the worthless Shieldmane Mafdet had accused him of being.
“I knew Zarina was making a mistake when she assigned you as Asha’s Second Shieldmane. I knew you would turn that girl’s head around.” With her chin, she gestured to the bodies of Asha’s parents. “This is what humans do to our kind. They’ve never had a problem brutalizing us. Stealing our land, breaking their own treaties, none of it was ever enough for them. They pillage, murder, rape. What do you think they’ll do to Asha, now that she’s in their clutches and her parents can no longer protect her?”
Torture. Murder. Rape. Ekon knew nothing of Mafdet’s history before she’d moved to Shona. He may be a useless boy in her eyes, but Ekon knew the broken sound of lived experience when he heard it.
He shook his head, denying those fates would befall Asha. “No, she has a plan. I think it involves Ms. Choi from the Common Peace Coalition Party.”
“Asha’s plan began and ended with saving your hide. She has no plan beyond that and certainly none involving a human who ran for Chief of the Republic of Vumaris and lost to Silas Royster.”
“You have no faith in the sekhem you’re sworn to protect.” Ekon turned to his fallen alphas, closed his eyes, and recited a prayer. “. . . Brave lions of Shona, may Goddess Sekhmet welcome you home. Be at peace, for the lion goddess will see to your souls, while we will see to your earthly forms . . .”
“They can have no peace as long as Asha is at the mercy of those who took her. And neither can I.” Mafdet stood, and Ekon did the same—body and soul exhausted, heart heavy. “We need to contact the police and call home. But first, we must secure the bodies of our family. I will not allow humans to touch them. They are our responsibility.”
They would have to search the entire building for the missing four Shieldmanes. Like Mafdet, Ekon didn’t question whether they still lived. No Shieldmane would stand by and do nothing while their khalid and sekhem fought for their lives.
“You said you would find her.”
“I did, and I will.” Mafdet’s bloody blade slid into its sheath. “For now, though, Asha is on her own. I hope like hell she truly does have a plan.”
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So did Ekon. If not, if he and Mafdet had to return home with the bodies of the entire royal family, Shona would explode and Vumaris would burn.
They’d taken her back to Minra. Not to the First Evolution Union Party’s headquarters, her captives weren’t that stupid, but to a warehouse in the same city where, only a few hours ago, she and her parents had sat across a conference table from Chief Royster and Deputy Chief London. They were incautious, though, or perhaps simply arrogant because they didn’t blindfold Asha during the drive from Sanctum Hotel to their current location.
She’d sat in the back seat of a nondescript black SUV between two burly human males she could’ve killed with little effort. Asha had kept her focus on the front window, cataloging every street sign and building. The darkness hid nothing from her felidae sight. From the sense of smell alone, Asha would be able to find the warehouse again, as she would every human in and around the building.
Minra was an old city, and it showed. Not every part of the municipality had undergone a makeover like its historic district where the First Evolution Union’s headquarters were housed. The part of the city she had been driven to, an industrial waterfront with rotting warehouses and piers, smelled of sewer water and abandoned dreams.
The SUV idled in front of Warehouse 7. No one spoke. No one had since a man with a skull and crossbones tattoo on his forearm had shoved her into the vehicle with a muttered, “A lot of good Rogueshades died because of you. You better have been worth it.”
Rogueshades. Asha hadn’t heard of the group. But that data, like everything she’d gathered since allowing herself to be taken captive, was stored for later examination and use. Most information proved valuable at some point, but the value of the information may not be seen or even understood at first glimpse.
As she followed one of the Rogueshade men out of the truck, Asha mined for the gold nuggets she’d learned from her parents. There were many and, like so much they’d taught her, not all were useful for every situation. It was up to Asha to decide how and when best to use her parents’ kernels of wisdom.
