by Lisa Kessler
She shrugged and went back to finish packing her bag. “We had a mutual arrangement, but it wasn’t anything exclusive.”
Would an ancient Mayan god have any clue about her innuendo?
“I am sorry you lost him. Did you love him?”
She zipped her bag, pondering the million dollar question before she shook her head. “No. He didn’t deserve to die, and I’m sad he was hurt, but…” The strap weighed heavy on her shoulder. “I know better than to give my heart away. That’s a body part I like to keep to myself. It’s the only way to be sure it doesn’t get broken.”
Apep pulled in a long, slow breath as his serpents returned. His limbs tingled while they wound their way up his legs, twisting and twining around his body, sharing the information they gathered.
His eyes shot open.
Issa was with the woman. The Mayan God of the West knew his true identity.
He clenched his hands into fists, the snake tattoos caressing his tight muscles, feeding off of his rage. The element of surprise was lost. And then the information flow stopped.
Issa must have seen his pets in the shadows. The blinding light from the woman’s house banished them. The Night Walker had thrown every switch he could find.
Rolling his head from side to side, the tattoos coiled around his neck. The corner of his mouth curved into a twisted grin. Perhaps this kink in his plan would actually lead to the excitement he’d longed for. The Night Walkers recognized his threat to their existence.
He could almost taste the tantalizing spice of their panic, catch the scent of their desperation.
He’d been spat out by the gods before the time of man, his hunger for chaos and evil never satisfied. His schemes angered the gods, but he found humanity to be an eternal buffet, feeding his desire for disorder, for pain, for chaos.
Gazing down at the sea of nightlife below his hotel room, he wet his lips. In spite of the gluttony of human chaos, eventually boredom blossomed into his worst enemy. After thousands of years trapped in this world of men, his schemes left him empty, never filling the void inside him, leaving him yearning in this prison while eternity stretched out before him.
But gaining control of all the Night Walkers would change everything. His power would no longer be limited to his own random interferences. Using all of the Night Walkers’ power as the instrument of his wrath, he would be able to rule over humanity itself. Wage wars, magnify fears, the possibilities raised his eagerness to heights he hadn’t experienced since the World Wars swept the globe.
With the human world at his command, the gods themselves would have to take notice. His exile from the heavens might finally end.
This was his time. And nothing would stop him from seizing it.
Issa took Muriah’s bags, his right hand clutching the straps. Blood dripped from his fingertips onto the floor, exposing his true identity. He was the god who claimed the sacrifices. Not by choice, by duty.
These fingers had clutched the still-beating hearts, silencing the lives of so many. Muriah was wise to protect hers.
He blinked his eyes shut hard, relieved when he opened them again. The crimson stain vanished. His hands trembled with the realization that the past and present were clashing in his mind. Clenching his jaw, he forced back the onslaught of memories and pain. Muriah’s life and the future of his entire race depended on him to keep the codex away from Apep.
But his weary soul yearned for escape.
“Are you all right?”
The melody in her voice eased the despair that lurked in his mind. “Yes.” He nodded and took a slow breath. “I will be.”
Her mouth curved into a gentle smile that soothed him, as if she understood his pain. Suddenly, he ached to touch her, to feel the warmth of her soft skin, but she hadn’t welcomed his touch, and once again he found himself longing.
He ground his teeth. They’d need to hurry to Gillespie Field to be sure Calisto’s private chartered jet could get them to New York before the sunrise.
A dog barked behind him, making him flinch with surprise. Did Muriah have a pet? He hadn’t caught the scent of any animals. Frowning, he checked down the hallway.
“It’s my Wizard of Oz clock.”
He met her eyes. “Wizard?”
Her lips parted, and she shook her head slowly. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never seen the Wizard of Oz…”
His brow furrowed. He’d met men who wielded magic, but most didn’t refer to themselves at wizards.
“Oh my God. You don’t know about Dorothy and Toto.”
He rolled his shoulders and moved her bags around his back. “I have never met them.”
Muriah smiled, and he forgot himself for a moment. Her face lit up, and her dark eyes sparkled. Unguarded. The desire to kiss her lips consumed him, confused him. Over a century had passed since he’d made love to a woman. It was an empty act when they came to him, not by choice, but because he desired them. One look into his eyes and they were his. Enthralled.
But Muriah was far from his, and her will was most definitely her own.
“I need one more thing.”
She rushed off before he could remind her they needed to hurry. He blinked, wondering if she had any idea of her own power. Her smile made the danger, the pain, the future, and the past all melt away. She made now all that mattered.
He ran his fingers through his hair, staring out into the darkness. There was more at risk here than the future of the Night Walker race.
The dog in the clock continued to bark. Nine p.m. If they weren’t in the air within the hour, they’d never land before sunrise.
“Okay I’m ready.” Muriah had a case in her hand with a girl in braids and a dog. “We’re watching a movie on the flight.”
“Wizard of Oz.”
She nodded, moving behind him to unzip her laptop bag. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and hunger gnawed at him. He rarely noticed his bloodlust anymore. Another empty act his body required, but his soul had lost interest long ago.
However, this woman definitely awakened something inside him. Dangerous.
Issa lifted his chin. “We need to get to that plane. If we do not reach New York before dawn, I will be little help to you. Once the sun rises, my heart will stop.”
She came around to face him. “Maybe we should wait and go tomorrow night as soon as the sun sets?”
“We cannot afford to wait. Apep knows you hold the answer he needs, and he probably knows the child he seeks is here in San Diego.” He turned the knob on the door. “We need to lure him out of the city and find a way to stop him. Now.”
The walk back to her store was shrouded in silence. She wasn’t sure if Issa was busy watching for Apep’s shadow spies or what, but she settled into preoccupation about The Dimension’s Den.
It killed her to put up the CLOSED sign in the store window without knowing when it would open again. If it would open again.
She was the last of her family line, and without an heir, the store would fade away with her. Her chest tightened at the thought. This was all she had left of her mother and her grandparents. She double-checked that the red door was locked and traced her index finger along the Eye of Providence carved into the oak. This door had borne witness to many people seeking answers, crossing the threshold in search of help, enlightenment, and protection.
And now it watched her turn her back and walk away. From the driver’s seat, she stared at the building and the worn red door before she finally turned the ignition. Her family’s legacy, entrusted to her, and she had failed them.
“We need to go.”
Although he bordered on issuing orders again, the deep timbre of Issa’s voice eased her inner turmoil. Her gaze connected with his, and seeing his face, being this close to him in the confined space of her car, felt intimate.
Before she realized she was going to speak, she whispered, “My store is all I have left of my family.”
His large hand covered hers on the emergency brake, his str
ength somehow adding to her own. “This will not be the last time you see this door.”
Her eyes welled with unwanted tears. She wiped her nose with her free hand. “Are you sure you can’t read my mind?”
“I left my world behind once, not knowing if I would ever return.” He squeezed her hand, and his expression softened. “I did not need to hear your thoughts to recognize the look in your eyes.”
She sniffled and pulled away from the curb. “Can we talk about something else?” The faded red door vanished in her rearview mirror as she drove away, and anxiety tingled in her hands. She stared ahead into the night. “Tell me about the codex in my bag. Did you write it?”
“No.” He looked out the passenger window. “Our scribes wrote the story. I doubted the prophets at the time. Our people thrived. We were strong. Why would we need a new beginning, an immortal born into the world like a mortal child? I never imagined our future. If I could go back, I would protect them.”
“From what?” Muriah merged onto the highway heading east, grateful for the conversation.
“The future.” He went silent, and she realized how much the sound of his voice buoyed her courage.
“Lukas mentioned something evil in the jungle. Does that have anything to do with Gretchen’s baby?”
Issa nodded. “The Night Demon.” He glanced out the passenger window. “Ch’en, our Goddess of the Moon, was gifted with dreams of the future. She saw the Spaniards coming from the sea and called upon the Night Demon to protect her people, but the creature’s thirst was uncontrollable. My brother, Mulac, reawakened the demon a few months ago…”
“Reawakened? How?”
“It no longer matters. She is silenced.” He shook his head. “Enough. Tell me how you know about Night Walkers.”
“I’m not used to people giving me orders.” She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “If we’re going to be partners in this adventure, and you don’t want to risk me killing you in your sleep, you might want to try using ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ A little consideration goes a long way.”
“I am not so easy to kill.” A deep chuckle filled the space of her Honda Accord and traveled through her entire body, vibrating and filling her heart with unexpected warmth. After witnessing the torment in his eyes during her vision, the sound of his laughter seemed like a precious gift. She wished she wasn’t driving so she could sneak a peek at the smile she imagined accompanied his chuckle.
His voice sobered. “I would like to know how a mortal woman has knowledge about the Night Walker race… Please.” He paused and added, “Better?”
It was Muriah’s turn to laugh. “Much.” She switched lanes, nearing their exit. “Lukas made friends with my great-great-great grandfather, Girard La Deaux. He founded our store. At the time, he sold his wares from his wagon, but it was the same idea. Anyway, he tried to help Lukas find a cure.”
“A cure?”
She nodded. “Lukas was a Russian fur trader, very religious, and he didn’t want to be immortal. It happened by accident. He hated drinking blood from the living and because of a rattlesnake bite when he was transformed, he had some kind of crazy blood lust he couldn’t control, so Girard tried to help him end it, but nothing ever worked.”
“When a mortal becomes a Night Walker, his mortal body dies and awakens as a new creation. There is no going back.”
She shrugged. “Lukas ran away after Calisto made him. He didn’t know what he was.” She slowed, coming off the highway. “When Girard couldn’t cure him, he asked Lukas if he would watch after his descendants. His existence has been our family secret ever since.”
“And he never turned any of them?”
“No.” The lights from Gillespie Field twinkled in the distance like Christmas lights. “Lukas would never make anyone like him.”
“He is stronger than most. My immortal brothers, gods, have made other Night Walkers. Loneliness was something we had never faced before. We always had each other. When our Mayan world crumbled, we separated to keep the memories of our culture and our people alive. Until a few weeks ago, I had not seen my brothers in over one thousand years.”
Hearing the massive amount of time baffled her. How could he have seen so much, and yet still be sitting in the passenger seat of her car? While she’d known it must be possible, the reality overwhelmed her.
She pulled into the airport and parked. As one of the smaller air fields in San Diego, Gillespie was pretty deserted at night. Issa carried her bags, and they followed their pilot to the private jet. She walked up the steps to the plane and stopped at the top to take a slow look around. Issa stood one step below, eye-to-eye, his body almost brushing her own.
“You will see this place again. I will bring you back.”
She slipped her hand into his without thinking about it. “You better.”
The sight of his gentle, lopsided smile made her heart flip.
“You have my word.”
Chapter Eight
The warmth of her hand in his still haunted him. Issa sat beside her on the sofa of the jet. He rarely flew, and he’d never been on a private charter that boasted such an open layout. At the front of the cabin there were four reclining chairs next to the windows, and here at the back of the cabin was a large, L-shaped sofa with a small, mahogany coffee table. More like a small apartment than an airplane.
Muriah opened her laptop and the case that held the movie. He’d spent so many lifetimes alone, in seclusion, but not because he had to. He chose the solitude. Being surrounded by mortals suffocated him. Their thoughts were a constant mental barrage, and conversation was difficult without eye contact. But Muriah was different. Her mind was quiet and unaffected by his preternatural stare.
She seemed more his equal, instead of one of the sheep for him to tend.
And there was something else. Recognition shone on her face the moment she first laid eyes on him. How? Did she have a gift of dreams of the future like Ch’en?
Kate, he corrected himself. She is Kate in this lifetime.
His Ch’en was lost to him forever the night he’d been forced to sacrifice her in order to trap the demon and save their people. And she’d never really been his. Only in his own heart.
The plane moved, jarring him from his thoughts. Issa gripped the armrests and looked out the window. The lights passed outside, faster. His pulse raced in answer.
“You’re not a fan of flying?”
He pulled his attention from the darkness outside to her face. “Hate flying.”
She set her laptop beside her on the sofa bench and shifted a little closer to him. He did his best not to notice.
“Want to talk? It might take your mind off of it.”
He started to reject her offer, his typical avoidance of conversation, but instead he heard himself answer, “What would you like to talk about?”
Shocked by his own question, he almost didn’t notice the moment the plane left the ground.
Muriah shrugged. “How about starting with your favorite color?”
“Color?” He’d been expecting a question about history, or Egypt, or anything but a simple color.
“Yeah.” She paused, and went on when he didn’t answer. “I’ll go first. I love red, all shades of it.” The corners of her lips lifted, tempting him with a smile. “And not just because it’s the color of Dorothy’s ruby slippers.” She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Your turn.”
He was faced again with a simple question he had never considered. “Red is also the color of blood, of life and death.” The mention of blood reminded him he had not fed. Hunger teased him with the tips of its claws. “But green is the color of the jungle, my home.”
“You miss it.”
Staring out the window into the darkness, he nodded. “Until I returned, I had not realized how much.”
“So why did you leave? Why come to San Diego?”
He rubbed his face. He’d never confided in a mortal before. Their minds were incapable of keeping secrets
. But even Apep had been unable to read this woman. The opportunity to share his burden with another tempted him.
“I am the upholder of the west. I have a duty to this world.”
“Bullshit.” She crossed her arms. “If you don’t want to tell me, just be honest. Don’t feed me noble Mayan god crap.”
“Noble Mayan god crap?” Another unfamiliar bubble of laughter boiled in his chest as he raised a questioning brow.
“Yes.” She started to smile, mimicking his deep voice. “My duty. Upholder of the west.” She rolled her eyes, her tone returning to its usual, lilting timbre. “God of the West is your title. I want to know who you are.”
Her simple words shook him to his core. Who was he? Did he even exist anymore?
“I came back because I love my brothers, and if anything happens to the child in Gretchen’s womb, they will die.” The truth of his words surprised him. He’d believed himself incapable of love, his heart long dead.
Muriah uncrossed her arms, her posture straightening. “But you’re immortal.”
“We were.” He opened and closed his right hand, grateful not to see the stain of his brother, Mulac’s, blood on his skin. “When we used my brother’s life to lure the Night Demon and imprison her within the earth, we unbalanced our world. The child Gretchen carries is his heir. Without that immortal life, we will all perish.”
“That’s why Apep wants the codex.”
Issa nodded without raising his eyes. “I believe so. The child is useless to him dead. He needs to know when the child’s immortality begins.”
“He wants to kidnap the baby and threaten all of you with it…”
“Yes. He would have the power to destroy us all.”
Her voice softened. “But the baby would be immortal, right? You can’t kill something that lives forever.”
“I have killed immortals.” Issa lifted his head slowly and met her eyes, wishing for once that he could hear her thoughts, her intentions. “It can be done.”
He shifted his attention out the window, not eager to see her disgust or fear of him. Her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And yet…
