Forged: The World of Nightwalkers

by Jacquelyn Frank

  But she knew he would blame himself. He was so incredibly hard on himself and took on so much responsibility. And she had been just as hard on him. He couldn’t help the instincts that had been forced upon him. His territoriality was something he clearly struggled with and she should try to understand that. She should try to be more patient. Especially where Kamen was concerned. She was being wholly insensitive to his feelings to turn to Kamen for help right in front of his face like that. It had to sting very badly for him. But the truth was Kamen was responsible for her being able to do the things she now could do. These things that might now save her life. If she ever got out of this mess, maybe that fact would help to soften his hatred of Kamen a little.

  She hoped, but seriously doubted. Her Gargoyle was not known for his ability to forgive. Not in her estimation anyway.

  She missed him, she realized with no little surprise. And not just because of the astounding protection she knew he could afford her. She had done more protecting of him throughout their time together than he had of her. What she missed was the deep sound of his voice. The overwhelming presence of his body. She found she had already grown used to walking in the shadow of it, of feeling protected by it, of feeling wanted by him.

  And yes, he did want her. The fiery physicality of what he wanted from her was outrageous. They had only made love a few times, but every time had been explosive and addictive. Even now she was craving the smell of him, the feel of him and the taste of him. She was craving what it felt like to have his hands and lips on her body.

  Panahasi walked in on the heels of that thought and she flushed hotly. She moved back to her cot, huddling around the feelings she’d been feeling, protecting them from his acrid presence. It was obscene to have him there while she was thinking about how much she—

  Cared, she thought with haste, covering over the unthinkable word that wanted to pop up in its place. She didn’t want to think about things that simply could not or would not be. Ahnvil was only interested in the physical. She was not going to be one of those foolish women who fell head over heels for an inaccessible man.

  Not that it mattered right then, she thought as she watched Panahasi go back to his work. She might be dead in just a few hours. What did it matter what she did and did not feel?

  Oh hell, she thought. She did feel. She felt a lot. She just had to envision his handsome face and his warm, vital amber eyes and she felt her entire body go soft with desire and emotion. No, it wasn’t just about sex. It was more. She felt for him. Felt his pain as he struggled with his harsh past and the responsibilities he had then and on into the future. She loved that he was such a powerful man of honor, that she knew he would rather die than dishonor himself. He would lay his life on the line to protect her and Jackson and everyone in that entire compound. All without prejudice. And that included Kamen. Because Jackson wanted him protected, Ahnvil would do so even though he hated his guts.

  If that wasn’t honor than she didn’t know what was.

  Ahnvil fell to his knees and vomited the instant they were out of Kamen’s streak.

  “It’s like that the first few times,” Kamen said. He did not try and help the Gargoyle in any way, knowing any hand of friendship he held out would be immediately rebuffed.

  Ahnvil pushed himself up to his feet, staggering a little as the world spun and then tried to right itself.

  “Give it a minute,” Kamen advised.

  “I doona have a minute,” he snapped. “Kat doesna have a minute. For all we know the sword is already at her neck.”

  “We will find them when we find them. We will either be on time or we will be too late. You need to be prepared for both instances.”

  “I doona need your bloody words of wisdom! Just take tae the air and help me find this place!”

  “Since I don’t know what it looks like, we will go together. All right?”

  What Kamen was thinking was that there was no way he was going to let the Gargoyle go off on his own. The minute he found the location they were looking for he would try to go in with all barrels blazing, with no thought to his own safety. His protective instincts were just that strong. Kamen had made him that way. What he found interesting was how deeply Ahnvil had allowed himself to fixate on this little Djynn half-breed. There was much more to it than the need to protect all who were in the house and under Jackson’s care. He had not missed the undercurrent of sexual energy the Gargoyle was expending toward the Djynn. Gargoyles were sexual by nature, but this went beyond mere lust.

  But far be it from him to analyze this overmuch. He was there to help. He had no goals, looked for no respect or forgiveness via the task at hand. He would simply do what he had the skills to do and would leave everything to lie where it would. He was not asking for nor was he seeking forgiveness.

  “Verra well,” Ahnvil said after obviously trying on and then discarding about a half-dozen mental arguments. He extended his wings and with two powerful steps of thickly muscled stone thighs he launched himself into the air. With ease, Kamen levitated into his wake.

  Together they began to circle out, using Kat’s house as their center point.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Katrina waited until Panahasi left the room for what she deemed the final time that night. Daylight was soon approaching and for the first time she realized that the internal clock that told her was as much due to her Nightwalker blood as it was due to her years of dealing with an allergy to the sun. She had thought she had developed one because of the other when in fact it had already been there all along.

  If she was going to do this she needed to do it now. She needed to get out and then, hopefully, run to the same place Ahnvil had run to. Her home. Hopefully she could get there before the sun came out and started to cook her flesh into boils and bubbles. She had not yet learned how to turn to smoke to protect herself and didn’t have the first idea of how to begin to try.

  Mr. Cockney came down the corridor with her tray of food, which held the bowl of tomato soup she had mentally wished for in order to exercise her skill. She waited until he was just about to leave and close the door.

  “I wish you would unlock the cuffs,” she said, holding up her wrists. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  “All right,” he said immediately. He pulled out a key and unlocked her cuffs. “It’s not like you can get one over on me, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed with an innocent and winning smile. “And when you go, I wish you’d leave the door unlocked. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

  “Well, as long as you promise,” he said, closing the door shut and failing to lock it. She had realized it was easier to get someone to do something she wished for if she gave them a reason, a logical reason, for doing it.

  She had a moment when she thought he would come to his senses … and then a moment when she wanted to wish him into locking himself up and dropping his drawers down around his ankles so his humiliation would be complete, but it would be hard to logic things like that out. When it came right down to it, it simply was not worth the risk.

  She moved carefully out of the cell, wincing when the metal creaked. She had to get out of there as soon as possible. What if Cockney came to his senses and came back to lock her up? Wishes, she knew, could be mercurial things at best. Ahnvil had warned her to never make a wish to a Djynn, but she was a Djynn so did that count? And the more important question was, was this possibly because of the bracelet or was this something innate within her that she was only now learning to use?

  No time. She had no time to worry about this. She had to run. Had to flee. And all the while she had to hold on to the bridge to the two power sources on her body in case she needed them.

  She hurried into the corridor outside, inching and creeping down it several feet at a time. She tried to remember that as far as anyone knew she looked just like any other Bodywalker out there, but most of the ones here had been wearing saffron-colored tunics and robes, like some kind of demented Hare Krishna movement
.

  She made it all the way to the stairs before someone noticed her.

  “Hey! What are you—?”

  Panahasi. She came right around the corner and ran smack into Panahasi. It took him only one moment, a fraction of a second, for him to realize who she was and the significance to her being there, out in the open, unconfined.

  There was nothing to describe what she was feeling in that moment except to say it was pure and utter panic. So when she intended to use her power to push him away, she got an entirely different response. A rush of power bolted out of her and directly into the center of his chest. Not outside of his chest, but dead center inside of his chest.

  He exploded from the inside out.

  Kat was doused with blood, bits of flesh and bone also flinging in her direction. But it was as though she were in some kind of bubble. Everything washed down around her, streaming to the floor as if it were sliding down off some bizarre sheet of protective glass.

  She sat there, horrified, gasping for breath. Her panic was complete, freezing her in place.

  Run. Run! Run!

  Finally the screaming in her brain propelled her body into action. She ran. She didn’t stop. Didn’t look back, barely looked where she was going. All she knew was that she had to go up. She was in a basement and had to go up. She found the stairs easily. They were clearly marked by the old signage. As were the exit signs. She found the very first one and slammed her whole body into the door. She promptly was thrown back on her ass, the padlock and chains she’d not noticed holding true. She was starting to hear shouts of warning, the raising of the alarm and she knew she was going to fail. It was that knowledge that slammed the bridge to the Amulet into place and that fear that sent the power against the chains. Like Panahasi they exploded into shards of metal, the links falling free of the door. She ran at them again, this time using the bridge to help her push her way out. They flung open hard and she was dumped out into three feet of snow.

  She didn’t even feel it. She ran, slogging through the thickness of it, her heart in her throat as she realized she was leaving a perfect trail for them to follow. She wasn’t going to make it. Even though Panahasi was dead, someone would raise an alarm, alert Apep, and surely then she would die. And she had no doubt in her mind that it would be slow and agonizing.

  And that was when something slammed into her body from behind driving her down into the deep snow. She screamed, tears rising frantically in her eyes, her breath thundering out of her as she clawed at the snow and tried to escape with every fiber of her being.

  “Kat! Doona be afraid. I’ve got you!”

  And in the next instant she was airborne, snow falling away from her body as the arms he had wrapped around her chest pulled her in tight. She could feel the wash of air from the powerful pumping of his wings. She should have been terrified. She was flying in the air at breakneck speed with nothing but a pair of hands to hold her safely.

  But they were his hands. His. Her Gargoyle. And she had never felt safer in all of her life.

  That was when she was aware of a second person in flight beside them. Kamen.

  “You came together?” she asked, her teeth chattering from her wet, cold state.

  “Aye. We were just trying to figure out a way to find you. Then suddenly there you were. Hang on.” He dipped and reeled, drawing them down low, into the trees.

  Okay, now she began to worry. Limbs and branches were everywhere, sometimes just a hairsbreadth from striking her. He flew so swiftly she had no idea how he was able to anticipate them. She suspected he didn’t exactly have a flight plan, either.

  “Oh my god! Go up! You need to go higher!”

  “No, I canna. There’s no one chasing us yet, but that doesna mean Panahasi willna send more of his minions after us. Flying low keeps us out of easy sight.”

  “Panahasi is dead! I-I killed him. And the ones who know I was there, I don’t think they even knew why. Except that he wanted the Amulet.”

  He seemed to absorb the news of Panahasi’s death quite well. He slowed, bringing them back down to the snow. Kamen followed until all three of them had settled into the cold, icy fine softness of it.

  Ahnvil turned her to him, quickly inspecting her. Finding she didn’t have a scratch on her, he seemed to exhale in relief. Then his eyes fell on the diamond and ruby bracelet she wore.

  “Now, doona tell me he was giving you gifts. Was he trying tae kill you or woo you?”

  “I found the bracelet myself on his workbench. I honestly don’t think he knew what it was or he wouldn’t have left it out in the open like that I’m sure. Then again he is something of a moron. Or rather, was.”

  “Time for tales of conquests are for later,” Kamen said. “Right now, we need to leave this place behind.” He reached out to put his hand on Ahnvil’s shoulder and his other hand on Kat’s arm. He closed his eyes and in an instant they were streaking.

  By the time they came to a halt both she and Ahnvil were so nauseated and dizzy they had to cling to one another to keep upright. After a moment, Kat lost one peanut butter sandwich … or rather what was left of it. Which was not very much so she was heaving hard without much production. She felt Ahnvil’s stone hands in her hair, holding it back, slowly turning to flesh as he patiently stroked her neck and back.

  “There now. Easy now, Kat lass,” he soothed her softly until she finally was able to see straight.

  “God, I am never doing that again,” she vowed.

  “Which part?” Ahnvil asked with a gentle smile. “Kick arse and rescue yourself or the streak?”

  She laughed shakily. “I’ll never put myself in the position to have to do the first again, and I’ll never do that second thing, period.”

  “I doona blame you. Come, lass, let’s get you inside where it’s safe and warm you up.”

  His kindness and his caring knew no bounds. He did not yell at her for her stupidity as he helped her undress and get into the tub, brush her teeth, and do all the little things that would make her feel more human and at rest. He did not question her about the bracelet or how she had managed to escape as he dressed her in a clean T-shirt. He did not remind her of her close call and the fact that she had just murdered a man as he drew her onto the bed, holding her up tight and close under his arm.

  He waited until she was fully quieted, until she was feeling safe and completely under his protection, before he began.

  “Tell me everything,” he said softly. “If you’re ready.”

  “I am,” she said. She began to describe everything that had happened, and every time he realized how close she had come to danger, his hold on her tightened. Whether it was to control his temper or to give her comfort, she didn’t know. But she suspected it was a combination of the two.

  “I have come to realize,” he said after she had fallen quiet, “that Panahasi was acting completely independently of Apep. Thanks to all of the good gods for that. If Apep had gotten a hold of you …” He closed his eyes, suppressing the tremor that threatened to wash through him. She is safe, he kept trying to remind himself. She is protected in your arms.

  But it didn’t change the fact that he had failed to protect her in the first place.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with heartfelt sincerity. “I was wrong. If not for Kamen’s teachings you might be dead right now.” He reached down to finger the newest bauble on her wrist. “It is because of him that you are safe right now, and that is no’ a debt I will forget.”

  “And you’ll let him teach me more? I mean, I will want to know most of the serious Djynn stuff from an actual Djynn like Grey, but Kamen can teach me more of the basics. You’re okay with that?”

  “You were right when you said it is not up tae me. You do what you need tae do, Kat. I willna interfere.”

  She looked up into his face, sliding around so she was lying on his chest and looking into his eyes. “I understand why you hate him. I don’t want to upset you.”

  “I admit, I hate him less at the mo
ment.” He touched her at the corner of her lips, the stroke endearing and warm. “He’s brought something back to me that means far more than the ills of being enslaved.”

  Kat felt her throat tightening up and unexpected tears jumped into her eyes once more. She’d been an emotional wreck since this whole adventure had begun, but this was an entirely different feeling.

  “I’m surprised to hear you say that,” she whispered.

  “ ’Tis the truth of it,” he said with a simple shrug.

  The words had an incredible effect on her, but she reined herself in, tried to be careful with her soaring feelings. She didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself. Didn’t want to thrust herself out there, exposed to whatever pain he might throw her way. She was on uneven ground as it was. Every step she took was one step closer to falling flat on her face. There was just too much uncertainty in the future.

  So instead of filling the air with insufficient words, and the possibility of dangerous disappointment, she reached to touch her mouth to his. He pulled her up tightly into the kiss a moment after that, his mouth warm and strong against hers. She closed her eyes, just wanting to feel the strength of him, to absorb his vitality deep into herself. That, more than anything, made her feel safe again. That and the surrounding feel of his arms, the strong press of his hands against her back.

  Safe.

  And warm. No. Not warm. Hot. It only took a moment for the heat of his kiss to stir up the heat he always seemed to carry with him. Then, with a sudden movement, he rolled her onto her back, his hips driving up between her thighs as they instinctively bracketed him, his elbows propped on either side of her shoulders, freeing his hands to be in her hair and against the sides of her face.

  “My Kat,” he said, leaving her mouth for just a moment to speak the words. Then he was back again, this time speaking fire against her.

  My Kat. His Kat. Was she his Kat? Or was that just something he was saying in that moment? Was it a way of getting his way? Were his words thoughtless or were they full of thought, full of emotion? Gargoyles were a lusty lot, he had told her. Did that mean they would do or say anything to make their way into a woman’s bed?