Forsaken: The World of Nightwalkers

by Jacquelyn Frank

  And now she was facing that same mourning, facing that same chasm of time without her soul mate. And as deeply well worn as Menes’s and Hatshepsut’s love was, the love between their hosts had been just as white hot and undeniable…but so new, so untried. And unlike their Bodywalker souls, Jackson’s and Marissa’s original souls would not be reborn in a hundred years. They might not be reborn at all…ever. As far as the Bodywalkers knew, they experienced the actual death.

  This time…this time they hadn’t even had a week together. They were being wrenched apart, again, much too soon. The senselessness of it was more than they could bear. She could not stop the tears that ran from her, sometimes in great, painful sobs. She could not breathe…not without him.

  She felt more than heard Docia enter the room. She wanted to scream at her to get out. Wanted to throw herself over his body and keep anyone from touching him. She had knelt there in that stupid garden and had simply watched while that savage thing had cut her lover down. And where had Ram and Docia been? The Templar soul inside of Docia, Tameri, had extraordinary power at her fingertips. Why had she done nothing to save him? How could they have simply watched?

  Just as she had simply watched. Watched him put his life at risk in order to protect hers.

  “Shh,” Docia said softly, reaching to rest comforting hands on Marissa’s shoulders. “We can’t give up hope.” But Marissa could hear the shaky doubt infecting the other woman’s voice. “We have to have faith in…well, Faith. You know as well as I do that the Night Angels are capable of extraordinary things.”

  “I do understand that,” Marissa said quietly. “But I am afraid that nothing can fix this. What if…” She trailed off, unwilling to give her fears voice. Obviously she didn’t need to. Docia sighed shakily.

  “I know.” It was all she could say. “I know.”

  Apep frowned as he looked in the mirror, studying his new corporeal body for what had to be the thousandth time since he had been called into it. He always found being a female so much more complicated than being a male. The most confounding and superfluous parts of it being the breasts and the uterus. He had very nice breasts, he admitted as he ran his hands over then, hefting the weight of them in his hands. As far as that went, he amended. But other than their aesthetic loveliness, they served him no purpose. It wasn’t as though he would suckle a child. And yes, that led him to think of the other troublesome item on his body. A uterus. How complex it was, how inconvenient it could be, to engage in carnal activities when there was always the risk of being infected with a child. It was really a thorough annoyance. Perhaps he should be content to engage in lustful relations with only other females. That would eradicate the threat of infection. Yes, he thought with satisfaction. That was an ideal plan.

  Of course…there was something to be said for the idea of procreation. He could perhaps section off a part of his godly energy and imbue an infant with it. Then that infant would grow into a beautiful scion of himself, an ally of equal power.

  Yes. There was something to be said for that indeed! In fact, the more he thought about it, the more curiously appealing the idea became. But he would have to choose a physical sire and that was no small feat. It couldn’t be just anyone. It would best suit his purposes if it were another being of power.

  He turned and looked at Chatha for a thoughtful moment. Chatha was such a beautiful creature. Not his physical form. That was most certainly sub par in his eyes and therefore took him completely out of the equation. His aberration was called Down syndrome. A limiting factor indeed. No. As beautifully wicked, as scrumptiously perverse as Chatha was, a child of his must be sired by an ideal physical specimen.

  Any one of the Nightwalkers would do, he decided. There were twelve breeds, each with their own strengths and limitations. Some more so than others. Their weaknesses could very well be inherited by their offspring.

  Well, except for the Bodywalkers. Neither their power nor their weaknesses would convey. Like the one rattling around inside of him, the one called Odjit and the even more obscure human soul that had originated with this body, they were merely visitors to these bodies. The power was conveyed by the soul and if that soul were ripped away the power would go with it. There was no genetic alteration, they could not portion off their power and their souls like he could and put it into what would be a very human, mortal child.

  But with part of his soul and power within him, Apep’s child would grow beyond its mortal shell, would be a demigod in his own right.

  “But the inconvenience of pregnancy,” he whined aloud. “All that bulk and awkwardness. But I suppose it is a sacrifice that must be made in order to bring about a desired end. And yes, there is none more benevolently self-sacrificing than I.” Yes, this was turning out to be an excellent idea. But again…who to father such a child?

  “A Djynn, perhaps?”

  “Smoke, smoke. Weak, weak,” Chatha said with a shake of his head.

  “Well, it’s better than a paralysis in the sunlight,” Apep argued. The Djynn breed had a weakness in the face of the sun just like any other did. They dissolved into smoke at the touch of sunlight.

  “Wraiths,” Chatha offered with a giggle.

  “Oh dear.” Apep shuddered. “No, that won’t do at all. Lycanthropes?”

  Chatha turned to him with a face full of curiosity.

  “What’s that?”

  “You know, Lycanthropes. Come to think of it…my son no better than a lowly beast?” Apep scoffed. “Disgusting. And Shadowdwellers are out of the question. One touch of any light and poof!” He made a clouding gesture with his hands, then was distracted by the polish on his nails. Such a pretty lavender color. Yes. He rather liked these modern embellishments.

  “Lycanthropes?” Chatha asked again, truly perplexed.

  “Oh yes. I had quite forgotten about the curse,” Apep said with no little impatience.

  He had toyed with the idea of dispelling the curse, shocking the nations into awareness and entertaining himself with the fallout, but then thought better of it. He would save that for a later amusement, if indeed he could dispel such powerful magic. He would certainly have to try at some point. If for no reason other than to prove his own power.

  Or maybe he would imbue his son with the potential for that power! Yes! An exciting idea!

  Oh, but then to wait so long for him to come of age.

  “So many complications,” he tsked aloud. “Demon?” he suggested to himself, perking up at the idea, but then he immediately wilted again. No. Growing increasingly weaker with every moment left in the sun? Comatose and helpless? No. Certainly not. Although, the power to be had when accessing the elements, a Demon’s source of power, could be vast. It was without a doubt a worthy candidate, but not without its flaws.

  Night Angel.

  Again, Apep perked up. Yes. A Night Angel. Like that wicked little bitch who had set him back, seared him with his own power.

  “I didn’t like that at all,” he muttered aloud.

  All the more reason to have a son and ally, he reinforced the idea to himself. Together they could have destroyed that impudent thing! “My mind is quite made up,” he said with a nod. Then he leaned in to inspect the arch of a perfectly groomed brow. “We’re comely enough. We have very nice breasts. I could seduce a male to my side quite easily, I think. And now that I’m thinking on it, their weaknesses are really quite minimal. I hardly consider changing color in sunlight to be a weakness. Paired with the genetics of this body, and my own manipulations, the possibility is quite promising.”

  “Yup,” Chatha agreed, and then he went back to his autopsy of a small white rabbit.

  “Honestly, your obsession with the innards of things is almost worrisome,” Apep tsked as he took down his hair from its coif and arranged it softly around his graceful shoulders. “Yes. This should do quite well. Chatha, I’ll be back. I’m off to get impregnated. Do keep an eye on things, won’t you? There’s a dear boy.”

  Faith sat upright suddenly
. She had been dozing off, the alteration in her form a very taxing thing and the quiet of the company she was keeping a very boring one. Not that she expected him to entertain her. It was probably for the best all around, she had decided. The less contact she or any Nightwalker had with mortals, the better off things would be.

  Her eyes had drifted closed not too shortly after that.

  But suddenly the energy of power radiated into her body, setting her hands alight with a bright tingling sensation; the hands that were wrapped up snuggly into the scarf. The Djynn’s nik was becoming excited by the nearness of its master.

  “Slow down!” she cried out, unthinkingly reaching out and placing a hand on strong, warm biceps. His arm flexed beneath her touch and she could feel the rejection that went along with it without even looking at his scroll or his face. She lifted her hand away as he slowed the vehicle down and pulled over to the side of the road. There was nothing. There was nothing to be seen except the vast scrub of the wilderness and the backdrop of the distant mountains.

  “I can feel her nearness,” she said when he looked at her quizzically. “We’re practically on top of her.”

  “Maybe that’s because you are.”

  The voice came out of nowhere and was punctuated with a tremendous clap of thunder. Storm clouds raced across the sky, blotting out the sun so thoroughly that it was ominous and dark.

  Leo and Faith both jolted in surprise when a head full of blond corkscrew curls popped up between them from the rear window. The Djynn waved, her hand on the other side of the solid glass, her neck bisected by it as though the glass had chopped her neck clean through.

  “Jesus Christ!” Leo exploded in shock. He reached for the door, throwing himself outside of the truck, his boots scuffing on the sand and gravel that had accumulated on the road. Faith followed him outside, watching as the Djynn pulled her head back through the glass, then stood upright in the bed of the truck and waved at them again.

  “Hey there! It’s nice to meet me, I know. Now give me my nik.” She held out her hand, then thought better of it, jumped out of the truck bed and held out her hand again. “There, much easier to reach me this way.”

  “SingSing?” Faith asked.

  “The one and only. How’d you get my nik? Give it here.” She emphasized the extension of her hand with a little wiggle.

  “The friend you left it with needs your help. She sent me with this,” she held out the nik but kept it firmly wrapped around her hand, “to find you.”

  “George? You took this from George?”

  “Uh…you left it with Docia,” Leo spoke up, inching a little closer to the two women. But Faith could see he had the butt of his gun seated firmly in his hand…though he had not unholstered the weapon yet. Good thing, too. Djynn didn’t take too kindly to threats. He narrowed sharp eyes on the Djynn. “But you know that,” he said astutely. “You know exactly who you left it with. You’re just testing us.”

  She grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Can’t be too careful these days. So what does Docia need? Does she have a wish?” The Djynn’s eyes had widened with eagerness.

  “No! No wishes,” Faith said hastily, making sure she shot Leo a warning look.

  “Oh c’mon,” she whined a little. “This one’s full of wishes. I can just smell it on him.” She stepped closer to Leo and gave him two obvious sniffs. “And fear. I can smell fear.”

  “Fuck y—”

  “SingSing!” Faith cried over Leo’s potent verbosity. “We need a Djynn who can tether a severed soul back into its body. Can you do that?”

  SingSing chuckled, seemingly unaware of the tiny dragon head that peeked out from among her curls. Faith hoped like hell Leo hadn’t noticed it because he would very likely have a stroke.

  “Oh no. I’m only Djinni caste and I’m nowhere near that strong. Only Marid could do that. Or Afreet. One or the other. Say, are you holding my nik hostage?”

  “I’ll give it to you,” Faith said.

  “Good!”

  “As soon as you tell me where I can find a Marid Djynn.”

  “Not good,” SingSing deflated with a frown. “Marid don’t exactly advertise their locations, you know. There’s a reason for that. They’d be like…constantly getting clients knocking on their piggy bank. Not that you don’t want a client, because, then, what’s the point of being a Djynn, right? But still, if you’re kicked back in your hookah pipe and ding-dong, ding-dong! ‘Hey can you grant me a wish?’ I mean, that’s not even including more intimate pasttimes that could be going on inside your canteen. I mean, who wants to be interrupted in the middle of you know…you know? Don’t come a-knockin’ if the canteen’s a-rockin’!”

  “Piggy…?” Leo began, having a hard time following the rapid-fire deluge of thoughts that were spewing out of the diminutive little Djynn.

  “What?” SingSing demanded, her face scrunching as she narrowed her eyes on Leo, “did you think we all lived in bottles or lamps? Bottles can be recycled these days and believe you me, there’s nothing worse than waking up in a refuse reclamation facility. And lamps, of course, are so passé.”

  “O-of course,” Leo agreed, looking a bit shell-shocked. Faith had to press her lips together to keep from looking too amused, but she realized her eyes had given her away when he looked at her and then immediately scowled. She supposed she should have warned him that Djynn were all a bit…quirky, each in their own way. But even for a Djynn, SingSing was absolutely effervescing with quirk.

  “Are you saying you don’t have any Djynn connections? You don’t travel in Afreet or Marid circles?” Faith asked.

  “I absolutely know several Marid and several more Afreet! Well,” she deflated a little, “I know one Marid. Maybe two or three Afreet. Well, maybe know is stretching it a little, but all Djynn of all levels know their local Marid Sultan or Sultana. They’re sort of like the king over all less powerful Djynn in their empire…or, well, you might call it a territory. Stop that!” She reached to gently flick the green-and-blue-headed dragon that had begun to wrestle and chew on one of the springy coils of her hair.

  Yeah, Leo had definitely seen that.

  “Is that a dragon?” he asked, pointing accusingly at the beast that had ignored its owner’s wishes and was now enthusiastically tangling itself up in her hair.

  “Dragonlet,” the Djynn said. She rolled her eyes. “A real dragon wouldn’t play with my hair, it’d floss his teeth with it. You know, like, on the way to swallowing me for lunch? Actually, more like an appetizer. As a whole people are like sushi, you eat some and get hungry again about an hour later.”

  “Could we just stay focused?” Faith said hastily when Leo went pale beneath his natural tan. She didn’t blame him. Anyone who had never believed that anything magical or supernatural existed, only to be suddenly thrust into this world and watch it expand in all directions all at once, was bound to be a little intimidated. What was more, she could see that Leo was used to being in control of himself and being able to tackle anything thrown his way. For him, his reactions to these things, his paralyzing sense of fear, would be far more frustrating to him than anything else. “Considering what we’re up against, it would probably be most efficient for you to point us in the direction of the Marid. We don’t have time to hunt down a less powerful Afreet only to have him not capable of the task at hand.”

  “Well, that’s going to be a little tricky. The best thing for you to do is to wish for it, then I could send you straight there.” She smiled brightly, as if she were the most benevolent Djynn of all time.

  “No wishing,” Faith said firmly, knowing full well that wishing always came with a price to pay. Either in the right now or the later, there was always a price. And it was never a good idea to owe a Djynn from a wish.

  “Then no Marid,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and humphing loudly with exaggerated pique.

  “Then no nik,” Faith countered, holding up the scarf. She could only hope the power in the scarf made it a big enough ba
rgaining chip.

  “Fine. I don’t need it.” SingSing turned up her nose and spun her body away with another punctuating “humph!,” as if to leave. But a quick, longing sideways glance at the nik gave her away. It was only a second before she turned back around. “It’s just one little teensy tiny wish! I promise you won’t owe me a thing.”

  That was a bald-faced lie. Djynn always lied about the quid pro quo of a wish. They couldn’t help it. It was in their nature to bargain with all they had in order to close the deal on a wish. Sort of like a used-car salesman knowingly trying to push a lemon off his lot. Only in this case it didn’t make her a bad person. It made her a Djynn acting one hundred percent in her nature.

  “Thank you, but we’ll find another way.” This time Faith was the one to turn away. She sent Leo a look, and he took the cue instantly. He turned as well and they walked back to the truck.

  “But that’s mine!” the little Djynn whined. “It’s not nice to take things that don’t belong to you!”

  “Then you shouldn’t have left it lying around,” Faith called back. “We’ll just find another Djynn,” she said in conversational tones to Leo. “I’m sure this nik is something they might like. Sorry to have bothered you!” she called out brightly to SingSing.

  “Okay, stop!” the Djynn said as she materialized with a bounce right under their noses, startling them both. Now there were two dragonlet heads sticking out of her hair, as well as a tail. Whether it belonged to those two or any one of potentially dozens of others, there was no way of knowing. “What if I traded one of my dragonlets for it? He can show you the way to the Marid and I get my scarf back. There. Everyone’s happy now, yes?”

  “No deal,” Faith said. “As soon as we turn our backs he’ll just fly home again.”