My stomach grumbled. I was hungry. The headache wasn’t any better, but I’d been out here for a couple hours, and my body’s need for food had surpassed the point of pain-induced appetite suppression.
Breathing hard, I rolled onto my knees and tucked my good foot underneath me, pushing up off the ground with my hands to stand. I sort of limp-hopped over to the spot near the trailhead where I’d dropped my to-go breakfast and plopped down on a bench-high piece of driftwood.
Waves rolled in gently, leaving sea-foam and kelp on the rocks as the water receded. The Puget Sound beyond was a dark, gray mass looking like tarnished silver in the dim light of the overcast sky. In the distance, a lone white ferry slid slowly across the surface of the water, moving from one emerald hill to another. I inhaled, tasting the sea, and closed my eyes. This far-off view was the closest thing I had to a window to the outside world now.
“I hate to interrupt, little sister,” Dom said from the mirror pendant hanging on a leather cord around my neck. “But Lex would like to know if you’re planning on joining the others for lunch.”
I snorted and let my head fall back. My incorporeal half-brother excelled at interrupting pretty much anything I was doing. “Is it opposite day?” I asked dryly.
“I’m sorry,” Dom said primly. “I do not follow . . .”
“Never mind,” I said with a brief exhale of a laugh as I opened the paper bag and peeked inside. Sure enough, a bagel with cream cheese sandwiched between the two halves lay within, safe in a plastic baggie, and a reusable tumbler held a thick, gray-brown protein shake. Chocolate, from the looks of it. Maybe enough for a normal person, even after a workout like I’d just had. But then, I was far from normal. And with the sprain, I would need more food to refuel than usual. Definitely more than this. Lunch probably wasn’t a bad idea.
“Garth has returned,” Dom said. “I believe he’ll be at lunch.”
“Oh yeah?” I hadn’t seen the former cop since the concert, and I was genuinely excited to catch up with him. We’d fallen into an awkward yet somehow easy friendship since downgrading our relationship from more-than to just friends. Plus, I was eager to hear the undistorted truth of how humans were handling the revelation that Nejerets walked among them. The Public News System’s feeds just didn’t cut it.
“Tell Lex I’ll be there,” I told Dom before tearing into the bagel. I shifted on the driftwood, propping my left foot up. Elevating my ankle would help the sprain heal faster. After a deep breath, I took a swig from the tumbler.
“And Heru is due to return later this morning.”
I choked on the protein shake, my slowing pulse spiking. I felt my face drain of all color and had to force my hands not to shake as I set down the tumbler before I dropped it. I cleared my throat, rethinking my lunch plans. “I thought he wasn’t coming back until tomorrow.” To be fair, it wasn’t Heru I was worried about seeing, but the man who would be returning with him: Nik.
The two had been away for the past two days, Nik acting as Heru’s bodyguard while our fearless leader met with top officials in Washington, DC. And it didn’t get much more top than the grand ol’ POTUS. Some thought leaving the safety of his home territory was too risky for Heru; not Lex, surprisingly enough. And not me. Maybe that was because we both knew that nobody would get to Heru with Nik guarding his back.
Oh, sure, Heru was more than capable of taking care of himself in most circumstances, but some of the Senate’s followers were the special brand of Nejeret—the kind with sheuts that afforded them magical powers beyond the usual good health and longevity that blessed our kind. With the merest thought, Heru could teleport out of the way of any physical attack, but what about a magical attack on his mind? Luckily, Nik had the skills and magical prowess to protect Heru against any and all attacks, whether they be of mundane or sheut origin.
“They concluded their talks early,” Dom said. “The next meeting will take place here.”
“Oh . . . neato,” I said. But my brain could barely process what Dom had just told me. It was too focused on the impending run-in with Nik.
I’d been keeping my distance since the whole bringing-me-back-from-the-dead incident. Every time I saw Nik, I came a little bit unhinged. It was like I was right back in that driveway, lying on the gravel, freshly returned from Duat and my unbelievable meeting with Isfet. When I looked into Nik’s eerily pale blue eyes, I couldn’t pretend Isfet hadn’t tasked me with freeing her from Aaru, a place no being, not even a powerful Netjer like Anapa, would be able to escape from. When I looked at Nik, I couldn’t ignore the fact that the fate of the universe depended on me not failing. Or the fact that I had no idea what I was doing.
I hadn’t asked for this. I didn’t want to be special. I’d blundered into it through recklessness and stupidity. I was far from the right person for the job, but circumstance made me the only one who could do it. And I was terrified. I spent my days dodging a cold, crippling fear. Steal-your-breath fear. Lose-sleep, can’t-eat, cry-in-the-shower-fear.
I used to be strong. I wasn’t anymore.
Every time I saw Nik, I was reminded of that. I felt it. And I hated it.
“What happened to you, little sister?” Dom asked. He knew where my thoughts had gone—where they always went these days when I was around Nik—and what feelings those thoughts evoked within me, even if he didn’t know why. “Perhaps talking about it will help you heal.”
“I wish . . .” I forced myself to take another bite of the bagel, consciously moving my jaw up and down as I chewed. It tasted like cardboard slathered with glue. With some difficulty, I even managed to swallow. “But this isn’t the kind of thing that gets better with words,” I said. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, lowering the bagel to my lap and staring out at the sea. “You wouldn’t understand. Nobody will.”
“You died,” Dom said. “Do you not think that I, of all people, can relate . . . at least a little?” There was some tongue-in-cheek to his tone, and I raised one eyebrow, the corner of my mouth quirking downward, though he couldn’t see my face.
Dom was dead. Or rather, dead-ish. And thanks to me—or maybe no thanks to me—he now spent his days in limbo, stuck inside the world beyond the mirrors, a mysterious reflection of our world he’d yet to tell me much about. But at least he wasn’t trapped in Aaru. That was some small comfort.
I sighed. Dom kind of had a point about the whole dying thing. “No, you’re right. That was callous of me. It’s just . . .”
It wasn’t dying that disturbed me so much; it was everything that went along with it. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that. I hadn’t been able to tell anyone about what happened to me after I died. Part of me hoped it had all been a figment of my dying mind. That same part of me feared that saying it out loud would make it real.
I shoved the bagel into my mouth and bit off way too much, hoping that would shut me up before I had the chance to stick my foot farther in.
I heard a twig snap some ways back in the woods and turned to peer into the trees.
“What is it?” Dom asked. His hearing was dulled in death, leaving him at my mercy to relay what was going on around me most of the time.
“Nothing,” I told him, turning back around and taking a swig of the protein shake. It was probably just a squirrel or a crow, or maybe even one of Lex’s cats, hunting said squirrel or crow.
Except, several seconds later, I heard the crack of another stick breaking, followed by the unmistakable murmur of lowered voices. One of those voices was impossible not to recognize—because it belonged to Nik. Sometimes it felt like my ears were honed specifically to pick up on his voice.
“Damn it,” I hissed, the words barely audible. Dom had said they wouldn’t be back until later this morning. I should’ve had at least another hour or two. But no, Nik just had to go and ruin my peace by returning early.
Not ready to face him, I snatched up the tumbler and bagel, wedged the paper bag under the driftwood to hide it, and tiptoe-limped back to the woods.
I’d gotten good at moving quietly over the years—a trick of the trade, I supposed. Even with my sprained ankle, I managed to slink unnoticed far enough into the woods that it was easy to duck out of sight by the time two people came into view through the trees.
Nik walked at a leisurely pace, arm in arm with his beautiful, ancient daughter, Mei. I rarely saw the two together—circumstances way out of their control had prevented them from ever being close—but watching them together like this, it was impossible not to see the resemblance. She had the trademark, striking look that made her ancestors—Nik, Aset, and Heru—all so breathtaking: angular features, almond-shaped eyes, and skin shimmering with an inhuman golden tint. She’d won the genetic lottery, even inheriting her father’s extra gift—a sheut. Using that, she could teleport with barely a thought. And back before the new gods, Susie and Syris, put the kibosh on time travel, she’d been able to move from one time to the next as she pleased.
I inhaled deeply, then held my breath and closed my eyes, focusing on listening. Hearing their voices wasn’t difficult, especially not with my sensitive Nejeret ears, but their voices bouncing around between the trees made it a little more difficult to pick out their words.
“. . . suspected, but I wasn’t sure,” Nik said, his voice seeming to hover around me for a millisecond before fading away.
“But now you are,” Mei said. “Or, at least, you think it likely, but you’ve come to me to confirm it.”
Confirm what? Of course, this was probably an MYOB moment and I was the one eavesdropping on a private conversation, but still—confirm what? My blood burned with curiosity. Maybe I was avoiding Nik at the moment, but that didn’t make me any less interested in what was going on with him.
“Who is it?” Dom asked. “Are we in danger? Should I alert Lex?”
I couldn’t risk responding. They were too close.
“I know you don’t like to talk about the things you’ve seen,” Nik said, “but I have to know for sure. If I’m right about this, it changes everything.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out my breath as quietly as possible before inhaling and holding it once more. What were they talking about?
“I’ll make an exception, just this once,” Mei said, “and only because telling you changes nothing. We are already traveling down this fork in fate’s path.” She was quiet for a moment. “You are right, Father—I’ve seen it. And yes, it does change everything, but not necessarily for the worse . . .”
Nik snorted a laugh, the sound more displeased than amused.
“You need to tell her, before either of you gets hurt. It’s not just her life she’s responsible for now.”
“She won’t like it.”
She? My eyes popped open, the lids narrowing to slits. She who? And what did Mei mean about the “not just her life” bit? What had Nik done now—gone and gotten some chick knocked up? Would Mei finally have someone to call a true brother or sister?
My stomach knotted, and my lip curled, though I didn’t understand why I was having such a visceral reaction to the news. Nik was beyond gorgeous, and we had a past—a troubled, complicated past—but we weren’t attached to each other in any way. I had no claim on him, no right to feel hatred toward whoever this chick was. I didn’t even know if she was real.
And yet I’d never felt jealousy like this before. Maybe it was a product of my stupid, overactive teenage hormones, but that didn’t matter; I needed to tamp it down before I charged over to Nik, demanded he explain what was going on, and made a complete ass of myself. Or, at least, more of an ass than usual.
“Yes, well,” Mei continued, “can you blame her?”
They were nearing the opening of the trail, where soft, pine-needle-padded earth met a sea of pebbles. Once they were on the beach, I was so out of there.
Nik paused at the mouth of the trail, extending his arm out in front of Mei to stop her, too.
Mei turned her head to look at him. “What is it?”
But Nik wasn’t looking her way. He was staring at something further down on the beach. Was there danger? Maybe a Senate assassin had swum its way here unnoticed? A boat would have been sighted, no matter how small, but someone in diving gear . . .
I stood partway to get a better look at whatever had caught Nik’s attention. When my eyes landed on it, my breath lodged in my throat. Mercy, her At blade shimmering faintly in the dull morning light, stood proud from where she was lodged in that damn piece of driftwood.
“Shit,” I mouthed.
I made a split-second decision, and no, it wasn’t to reveal myself, though I couldn’t think of a single thing that would’ve made it more obvious that I was somewhere nearby, lurking like a stalker, than my apparently abandoned sword. Nik knew better than anyone that I would never leave Mercy behind. She was a part of me. A part of me that he’d made.
I stood and sprinted away, ignoring the twinges of pain in my ankle as I dodged trees and leapt over boulders and fallen logs. I reached the house in barely five minutes. It had to be some kind of a record. I shoved my way through the front door, ran up the staircase, and barreled into my bedroom, slamming the door shut.
Practically panting, I leaned back against the door and sank down to the floor. My ankle felt like it was on fire, throbbing with the beat of my heart. I’d re-injured it, and worse, this time. No matter, it would heal.
“Did you catch any of that?” I asked Dom, eyes on his full-size presence in the standing mirror across the room.
“No,” Dom said. “I am still unsure who exactly you were running from.”
I brushed the stray strands of hair from my face and let my head fall forward, gritting my teeth and growling. Nik would know I’d been there, and now he knew just how extreme my avoidance of him was. It was only a matter of time before he returned Mercy, those pale eyes filled with a knowing glint. He might not say anything about the conversation I’d overheard or the fact that I’d run away from him, but that wouldn’t change the he-knows-I-know reality. Or the I’m-a-stalker reality.
“Are you planning on enlightening me?” Dom asked.
I peeked at him through my lashes, cheeks burning. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Chapter Three
Preliminary reports indicate that despite ending earlier than expected, the meeting between President Booth and the Nejeret leader, Heru, did in fact go well. The White House issued a statement proclaiming that the president herself will be traveling to the Nejeret complex in Washington State early next week to continue talks with Heru and other prominent Nejeret leaders. We’ll know more about the substance of these talks this afternoon, after the press secretary’s press conference. And now, here’s Carl Sykes with the weather . . .
“Well, that was informative . . .” I chomped on an excessively long curly fry, focus shifting from the television I could just barely see in the living room to Lex, who was breaking fries into more manageably sized pieces for Reni and Bobby.
“Mm-hmm . . .” Lex met my eyes, mouth spreading into a tight-lipped smile. She was more on edge than I’d seen her in a while.
Reni sat on one side of her in a purple booster seat and matching bib, and Bobby sat on her other side, next to me, playing with his dinosaur chicken nuggets like they were edible action figures. Aset and Neffe were still downstairs in the basement laboratory, awaiting Heru’s return so they could eat with him—and get the lowdown on how the meetings in DC went, straight from the horse’s mouth. Mari sat across from me, nose buried in a book on theoretical astrophysics, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich abandoned, half eaten on her plate, and Garth sat beside her, fully engaged in the weird-faces battle he was having with a two-year-old. There was no sign of Nik or Mei—yet.
Which meant there was still a chance that I would be able to finish up and skedaddle before they showed. I could only hope . . .
We didn’t usually watch TV while sitting down for a meal, but we were as eager as the rest of the nation—hell, the world—to hear the details of Heru’s me
eting with the President, especially considering Heru’s early return home. Nik had come back first, apparently, Heru stopping off at the Tent District in Seattle to meet with Dorman and the huge population of Nejerets residing there. I had no clue why Nik had shirked his bodyguard duties early, and Lex claimed ignorance as well. Her unusual state of agitation convinced me it wasn’t an act. She didn’t like Heru going around unguarded one bit. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now, other than provide some sort of a distraction.
“So,” I said, looking at Garth. “How’s the fam?”
He unscrewed his face and returned his tongue to his mouth, then looked at me. “Pretty smug, actually,” he said. “They’re loving being able to tell everyone back home that they’ve known about Nejerets for so long.”
I snorted gently. “Bet they are,” I said, reaching for my third sandwich. There was a small mountain of grilled ham and cheese sandwiches left on a platter in the center of the table, so it wasn’t like I was hogging the food.
Garth took a drink of his iced tea. “Cassie wants to know when you’re going to come visit.” His eyes narrowed playfully. “She mentioned something about ninja training.”
I bit off a corner of the sandwich, blinking wide, innocent eyes at him, and shrugged. I’d told her maybe. And that we would talk about it. But . . . considering how housebound I was these days, getting out to spend some time with Garth’s little sister and teach her how to fight didn’t sound so bad. Though I doubted her parents would be quite so excited about it.
I stretched my neck absently, first one way, then the next. That damn headache sure was persistent. Raising one hand to rub the base of my skull, I reached for my glass of Cherry Coke with the other. Maybe caffeine and sugar would do the trick where exercise and fresh air had failed. I caught Lex’s eye as I lifted the glass. She’d finished tearing up Reni’s food and was staring at me, head cocked to the side.
Soul Eater Page 2
