Eternal Nights

by Patti O'Shea

Another man pushed her, and she stumbled into someone behind her, who pushed her back toward the center. Zolianna—Kendall realized in this life she was called Zolianna—tried to find words to calm the men and women before the situation became even more unstable. “Please,” she said, wishing desperately for her powers back. “Do not take action which will shame you and our people.”

  “You’re the one who’s shamed us,” another woman shouted, “and brought this evil down upon our heads! ”

  Zolianna found herself fending off slaps and punches. When a rock hit her, she froze, almost unable to fathom such behavior. The second stone nearly hit her abdomen and she fought harder. She could not allow them to kill her babe, she couldn’t!

  Then she saw him, her love, shoving his way through the mob. “No,” she called. “Do not!” But either Wyatt—no, his name was Berkant—did not hear her or he chose not to heed her warning.

  He put himself in front of her, shielding her as best he could with his body. “Desist,” he ordered. “Leave this woman be. Hurting her will not stop the murders.”

  A roar of outrage rose from the throng. “This whore has sinned, and brought the scourge upon us. Stand aside, guardsman, and let us end this abomination.”

  Zolianna knew not who had spoken, only that the voice was male. They were going to kill her, and they’d kill Berkant as well if he did not stand aside. “Leave me,” she told him. She could not bear the thought of him dying with her.

  “Never,” he told her. “I promised I would always protect you and our babe, and so I shall.”

  What was he thinking? Frantically, she looked past him, skimming her gaze over the people standing nearby. As she’d feared, his claim of fathering her child had not gone unheard; word spread in an angry buzz, and the mob became frenzied.

  Zolianna could not begin to guess where they’d found so many stones, but the supply seemed nearly endless as they were hurled at them. She was hit time after time, as was Berkant. He continued to shove at the masses, as if trying to clear a path through the crowd that would allow them to retreat.

  If she didn’t need all her strength to remain on her feet, she would have told him it was pointless, that there would be no escape. These once-peaceful men and women would either kill them or drive them out of the city to be killed by the murderer. They would not be allowed to slip away.

  The mob grew. She saw Berkant stagger, saw the blood running from multiple places on his head, from his body, and wanted to cry. This was her fault, her fault! If only she’d stood up at fifteen seasons and told the High Priestess that she was not innocent, the ostracism would have been a small price to pay to avoid this moment.

  Sunlight bouncing off the temple’s capstone blinded Zolianna, but before she could raise a hand to shade her eyes, pain shot through her abdomen, and she doubled over. There was a gush of moisture, and she looked down to see her skirts sodden with blood. Her baby! Berkant’s baby!

  The sight of her child’s life flowing from her body impelled the crowd to a new level of madness. It was impossible to fight, impossible to protect herself or Berkant.

  He fell, and she caught him, clutched him as she sank to her knees. She was reeling, her own blood streaming into her face. Zolianna blinked to clear her vision and looked into his eyes. She saw Berkant’s soul leaving his body. “No!” she cried. “No.”

  Blood. There was so much blood. It soaked her clothes, pooled around them. Not just her baby’s blood, but Berkant’s and her own.

  “I love you, Zolianna. Through all eternity.”

  “And I love you, always. Always,” she added in a whisper as his body went lax in her arms.

  She wanted to cry, wanted to wail over the loss of her child, the loss of her love, but she had no tears. Zolianna bent her head to his and waited for the mob to close in, waited for her own death. With everything she loved gone, she had no more will to struggle against them.

  It didn’t take long before the crowd surged forward. Zolianna barely felt the blows—her body, her very soul, had become numb. And as her own spirit started to leave her physical self, she murmured one word. “Berkant.”

  *** *** ***

  Kendall awoke with a sob. Damn him!

  “Bug,” Wyatt said, without a trace of sleepiness in his voice, “what’s wrong?”

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded. “There was nothing you could do to stop them! Why did you push your way into the middle of that mob and try to protect me?”

  “You’d have me stand back and watch them kill you?”

  “Yes! At least then you would have been alive.” Kendall got out of bed and paced the room a few times, trying to force the shakiness, the absolute terror, from her body.

  Wyatt caught her on a pivot, holding her arms as he glared down at her. “I’d vowed to protect you, to protect our child. I could no more idly stand by and allow them to stone you to death than you could have let them do the same to me.”

  “There were too many of them. You had no chance!”

  “I was a member of the Guard, trained in negotiation.”

  Kendall shook her head emphatically. “You can’t negotiate with a mob.”

  “No, but we came from a culture unaccustomed to violence. It shouldn’t have escalated to murder. Their actions should have shocked them back to reason.”

  “You’re talking in circles,” she accused. “First you say you couldn’t let them stone me to death, then you say the horde should have seen sense. Which was it, Wyatt? What were you really thinking to put your life at risk?”

  His eyes were molten with his anger. “I wasn’t thinking beyond you. I loved you more than anything or anyone else in the world, and I would dare anything to keep you safe—then and now.”

  “You died in my arms,” Kendall accused. “Our child was already lost, and I held you as you died. Did you have any idea what that did to me? To know I was to blame?”

  “You weren’t at fault.”

  “I was! If my pregnancy hadn’t been discovered—”

  “The mob killed us—you, me, our baby—you were not responsible, they were.”

  Kendall opened her mouth to rebut, then felt the blood drain from her face as their argument registered. She’d never told Wyatt about her dreams, had never mentioned her suspicion that she was regressing to a past life. He should be confused, wondering why she was mad at him when he hadn’t done anything. “How the hell do you know what I’m talking about?” she challenged.

  The expression that crossed his face told her clearer than words that she’d caught him. “How long?” Kendall asked. He released her, took a step back, but she followed.

  “Now, Bug—” Wyatt said, trying to calm her, but she interrupted him before he could continue.

  “How long have you known about Zolianna and Berkant?”

  He grimaced.

  “Wyatt?”

  “All my life,” he admitted, voice quiet.

  For a moment, Kendall could only stare at him. He’d always known about that past existence. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask this next question, but at the same time, she had to know. “And when did you realize that I’d been Zolianna?”

  After a pause, he said, “The night we met.”

  Kendall felt a pain start in her chest, and for the first time, she realized that she was naked, that he was too. Moving past him, she grabbed the nightgown from the floor and pulled it over her head. She couldn’t bear being vulnerable in front of him, not any longer, not when he didn’t care about her, Kendall. He wanted Zolianna.

  A gasp escaped as she recalled he’d even referred to her as Zolianna the first time he’d kissed her. He’d been half conscious, but it hadn’t been her he desired. No, he’d called for her alter ego, someone she hadn’t been in thousands of years.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried not to think about the fact that she was wearing Zolianna’s clothes, that the priestess had donned this very garment to drive Berkant wild. As she’d regressed to—and relived—her death, Kendal
l had gained full memory of that other life.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she turned back to Wyatt. “I am not,” she enunciated every word carefully, “Zolianna.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?” Kendall asked coldly, but then ice was freezing her from the inside out. “You only became my friend because of who I’d been. Were you ever interested in me?”

  “Damn it, Bug, I love you.”

  “You love Zolianna. I just happen to be her reincarnation.”

  Kendall saw the heat flare in his eyes. “Wrong. Berkant loved Zolianna. I, Wyatt Montgomery, love you, Kendall Thomas.”

  “Sure,” she scoffed. “Tell me something. Would you have invited yourself to eat with me, would you have included me in so many of the things you did, if you didn’t know who I’d been?”

  He hesitated, and that was all the answer Kendall needed. Whirling away, she tried to escape him, but Wyatt caught her by the arm. “I was hopped up from three months in the field, and I wasn’t fit company for anyone,” he explained. “That’s why my men and I weren’t socializing right then. So yeah, maybe I wouldn’t have moved that fast if I didn’t recognize you, but I would have gotten around to it eventually. I was attracted before I had a clue what kind of connection we had.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I’ve never lied to you.”

  Her voice was low, intense, nearly shaking as she told him, “You lied to me every day, every single time we were together, and you didn’t mention that we’d shared a past life.”

  “What the hell was I supposed to say? You didn’t remember a fricking thing!” Wyatt tugged her closer, scowled at her. “And it didn’t take me long to figure out the surest way to scare you off was to mention we were lovers in another life.” He gentled his tone. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

  Kendall shrugged off his hold and turned. Something, though, caught her eye, and she slowly walked toward it. A round piece of crystal held strings of colored rectangles as they flowed downward. She laughed, not an amused sound, but one of bitter recognition. This calling glass had been a gift from Berkant, and it closely resembled her wind chime.

  Although it had been years, Kendall still recalled how excited she’d been to see it in the store window. Since each piece of the chime was handcrafted, the price had been exorbitant. She’d certainly never spent that much money for one item in her entire life, yet she’d begged the reluctant store owner to hold it for her. As soon as she’d gotten a grudging agreement, Kendall had raced to her bank and raided her savings account.

  Not once had she regretted the purchase. It had been her dearest possession, the only thing she owned that meant anything to her. Now she knew why.

  “You recognize this, don’t you?” she asked Wyatt, swiveling her head to look at him over her shoulder.

  “Yeah.”

  “How much do you remember?”

  He closed the distance between them again, but she didn’t move. Kendall refused to run like a frightened rabbit. His hands closed gently over her shoulders, his naked groin nestled against her bottom, and just that fast, her desire for him surged back. She wanted to curse. How could she still need him?

  “On a percentage basis,” he said, his mouth next to her ear, “I probably recall as much from that life as I do from this one.”

  Her nipples peaked from the feel of his warm breath against her skin, and damn him, she knew he’d noticed. Using her elbow to nudge him back, Kendall started to pivot away, but froze as another realization crashed into her consciousness.

  “What is it?” Wyatt asked, his hands stroking down her sides to comfort her.

  “I’ve been dreaming about our deaths off and on since the night I met you. I couldn’t remember anything about the nightmares, though, except for the blood, and that flash off the capstone.” Kendall shook her head. “It explains why the fear I woke with didn’t go away until I saw you.”

  His hands tightened at her waist. “Those would be the mornings you showed up at my house and invited me to breakfast?” Kendall nodded. “Figures,” he muttered, sounding unhappy.

  She stepped away from him, breaking his hold, and put the room between them. “That was a hell of a secret to keep,” Kendall accused. “It gave you an unfair advantage over me.”

  “How much do you remember now?” he asked.

  “On a percentage basis,” Kendall said, echoing him, but with a hint of sarcasm, “probably about the same amount you do.”

  “Then you should realize that knowing you were Zolianna gave me no advantage at all.” Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, obviously unconcerned about his nudity. “You’re nothing like her, Kendall. You don’t think like her, you don’t act like her.”

  “Yet you fell for her the instant you looked into my eyes.”

  “That’s complete bullsh—crap, and you know it,” Wyatt said, heatedly. “All you have to do is think back over the time we spent together, and be honest about it. Yeah, I was interested from the get-go, but I had to get to know you, I had to fall in love with you the same way any man falls for any woman. I didn’t take one look and skip over the important stuff.”

  “Right.”

  “Damn it.” He strode across the floor and went toe-to-toe with her. “I knew you’d be looking for excuses to run after what happened tonight, but can’t you at least admit that you’re using this to put distance between us because you’re scared? Can you be that honest with yourself?”

  “You’re lecturing me about honesty, Mr. Lie of Omission?” Before he could argue with her any more, Kendall shook her head and asked, “Do you know what day it is?”

  For a minute, she thought he’d ignore the question, but roughly he said, “Not for sure, no. I lost track in here.”

  “So did I. I remember how to get out of the temple, though. We better not wait till morning to send up the warning. I’ll just take a shower, and then we can go.”

  *** *** ***

  Wyatt jerked on his clothes, uncaring about the stench. Bug hadn’t said it, but she wanted the shower to wash away what had happened between them, and the realization ripped out his heart.

  He’d known. From the minute he touched her, he’d known she’d pull back on him, and she’d do it hard. He thought he’d been prepared for how deeply Bug would hurt him, but he hadn’t been. Maybe it was because he hadn’t expected her to hit him from the angle she had, but how the hell could he have guessed that she’d suddenly remember her life as Zolianna? For four months, she hadn’t recalled a damn thing.

  Grabbing his boots, he sat down on the bed to lace them up. From the corner of his eye, he could see the sheets and blankets, and Wyatt felt the heat build as he thought back to how they’d messed them up. Nothing in his life had ever felt as good as being inside Kendall. No way in hell was he giving up on her. He might be pulling back now, but it was a strategic retreat.

  Sheer willpower got him moving again, and once he had his boots on, he worked on emptying the fruit from her bag. Bug wouldn’t leave it behind, but if she knew how to get out of the pyramid, they wouldn’t need the extra food.

  Wyatt strapped on his pistol belt, checked the weapon, the clips, and slid the knife into position. Then he waited. Kendall, it seemed, was in no hurry.

  Her attack wasn’t personal—even if it sure seemed that way. He knew it was fear that caused her to lash out at him. This was probably the final battle in the war, and if he could win it, Bug would be his. But he had to put aside his hurt feelings and dig in.

  The door opened, and Kendall came into the room dressed in her dirty clothes. He’d been right; she had wanted the shower to wash him away. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Where’s my—” He held out her messenger bag. “Thank you,” Bug said so impersonally, Wyatt ground his teeth.

  She led him to an odd little nook in the far corner of the room and pressed her hand on a stone to the right of it. When they were through the hidden exit, she closed the wall again, and brought him t
o a balustrade. Another alien elevator, Wyatt realized, as she raised it to their level.

  He followed her and stood patiently as they went down to the base of the pyramid. This was how Berkant had sneaked in to visit Zolianna. Wyatt knew it, although he hadn’t remembered the doorway or the lift until now. It made sense, though, that the High Priestess would have a way in and out of the temple that no one else knew about.

  As soon as they came to a complete stop, Bug was off, moving through the maze with certainty. She stopped and waited until he drew even with her.

  “I know you’re mad at me.” She grimaced. “I’m mad at you too, but will you do me a favor?”

  “What?” he asked warily.

  “Don’t say anything about the temple’s inner sanctum,” Kendall said in a rush. “Please?”

  “You want me to lie?” Wyatt waited for her to say something about him being good at lies of omission—he’d given her the perfect opening—but she didn’t, and he knew why. She wanted his promise more than she wanted to fight with him. Bug needed to protect this pile of rock from the Alliance, and she couldn’t do that without his cooperation.

  “Not lie,” she said at last. “Just maybe don’t mention it, you know? I mean, they’ll be elated enough over the middle with all its corridors and hidden traps and such. No one really needs to know about this innermost part.”

  Wyatt didn’t care if the army tore this pyramid apart stone by stone, and he almost said that. But Kendall did care about her precious temple, and he loved her enough to do just about anything for her. That included an outright lie to his superiors, though he didn’t think it would come to that. He wasn’t letting her off scot-free though. “If I keep quiet, you’ll owe me,” he told her.

  Bug nodded eagerly. “Anything, I promise.”

  “We have a deal, then.” Wyatt held out his hand, and hesitantly, Kendall shook to seal their bargain.

  They rounded one more corner, and fifty feet ahead of them was a blank wall. When they reached it, Kendall pressed her hand to the side at waist level, and the door opened. As soon as they were through, she carefully sealed it up again.