Forgotten in Darkness

by Zoe Forward

  “We spend eternity cleaning up daemon messes with Ma’at dictating to us? Seems more of a punishment,” Javen muttered.

  “The gods are certainly pros on punishment,” Khyan grumbled.

  “Dakar, why were you sent here? Why were you in the Middle Realm? We need a brief version of what’s going on with Shay and Terek…er, Djoser,” Ashor prompted.

  There was a long pause during which Dakar crossed his arms in a clear hell-no.

  Khyan said softly, “They really need to know, Dak. There’s no better way to understand how deep your shit runs when it comes to Djoser.”

  “Then be my guest,” Dakar said.

  Khyan rolled his eyes. “Fine. The short version is the gods matched the two of them. Shaiani was a promised bride to the Pharaoh Djoser as his third wife. Let’s just say Djoser was less than thrilled when he found out Dakar stole her. I think the prick might have actually felt more than just lust for her. You’re a knockout now, Shay, but back then, red hair was as precious as gold. Djoser saw you as a prize that he wanted. The guy is hands down the deadliest dark-magik sorcerer ever to exist. Back then, he kept summoning some pretty nasty daemons and then experimenting with different ways to keep them in this realm. Djoser may have disliked us, but he hated Dakar after he fucked up Djoser’s brother a decade before he first met Shaiani, er, Shay. When Dakar met Shay, she was being prepped for her initial meeting with Djoser. In those days, parents sold their kids to the highest bidder, especially the girls. To make a long story short, Dakar took her. Djoser went apeshit and death-cursed the two of them. Then, a little over two hundred years ago, Dakar soul-locked the bastard to keep him in the Middle Realm.”

  “They’re cursed?” Ashor asked.

  I’m cursed to this guy? thought Shay. And I believe this shit?

  Dakar scowled but remained mute.

  Khyan nodded. “Djoser appealed to the god Apep who is kind of like the daemon deity—god of darkness, chaos, and anything you can think of that’s just general bad news. Since the gods had already destined Shay to be Dakar’s senariai, it wasn’t as if they could be pissed at Dakar for doing what was meant to be. Yet, when you invoke a deity, apparently anyone can get cursed indefinitely. Either Dakar or Shay must kill the other within twenty-one days of their initial meeting when reincarnated.”

  “Is there an out-clause?” asked Christian.

  Dakar finally spoke. “No.”

  “Nothing at all?” Ashor asked softly.

  Dakar exhaled a long sigh. “Not that I’ve discovered. And, trust me, I’ve consulted many. The Asian shaman I met before I went into the Middle Realm recommended I do the contrary to instinct, which means I should kill her this time. But…” Dakar’s voice trailed into silence.

  “But what?” Nate asked. “Do it, then, and end your misery.”

  “Thanks,” mumbled Shay. She didn’t miss Dakar’s apologetic glance.

  “Would you let me borrow one of your knives to get it done, Nate?” Dakar asked. “But you have no memory of your senariai. Therefore, I recognize you do not understand. Ashor, could you kill Kira?”

  Ashor’s gaze sizzled when he glanced at Kira, and went moony for a split second. “Probably not.”

  “Probably?” Kira asked.

  “If it meant it would end some wacked up shit like that, maybe.” Ashor shook his head. “Okay, no.” He gaze connected with Kira. “No, never.”

  “I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t kill Julie,” Eric admitted.

  Too much, thought Shay. A curse, fated love, and she had to murder Dakar? Or him kill her? Her mind got stuck on the fated-to-love this guy. He was spectacular, but love? And there was some daemon that hated her? Then, pieces clicked in her mind. Terek must be this daemon.

  She asked quietly, “So it sounds like in all past lives I’ve killed you, Dakar. What exactly happens to me after I kill you?”

  All the muffled conversations ceased.

  “This is not how I wanted us to discuss this, given that you seem to have no memory,” Dakar replied.

  “What happens to me?”

  Dakar’s eyes dropped to the table in front of him. When they returned to hers, the sorrow in their depths scared her. “You die.”

  “I die?” she croaked out. “Then what’s the point of me killing you, if I know I’m going to die anyway?”

  “You don’t have a choice. We don’t have a choice. The curse forces us.” He blew out a long breath. “Our curse says: Condemn thou gods-fated love to transform to murderous hate. Be murder done at love’s hand. Yet survive not without the other. Remembrance be forever in thy heart. You can’t help ultimately killing me.”

  The misery consuming him tugged at her chest. She wanted to hug him.

  But terror took a front row seat. You’re slated to die! “How long do I have before I die? Before we die?”

  Dakar shrugged. “I remain unsure this time. Your remembering past lives is usually the trigger to start our countdown. Maybe two weeks. Maybe less.”

  “Two weeks!” Having just survived near death, she’d realized she was nowhere near ready to exit life. This was worse than learning she had an incurable disease. At least there was always a minuscule hope with a disease. With a curse, there was only finality…if she believed all this. Yet, mysteriously she did. Both Dakar and Khyan were too sincere. Too matter-of-fact. They’d apparently been through this…what had Dakar said? Hundreds of times.

  What did she need to do to get her affairs in order? Sadly, not much. No one other than her advisor cared about her anymore.

  Shay recalled the child at the Sanctum. “Our problems aside for a moment, Dakar, I met this kid when I was at the Sanctum.”

  Ashor said, “Djoser just contacted us and said the kid recognized you.”

  Shay frowned. “It was rather weird that he gave me a message for you, Dakar. He told me to tell you to remember Aileen’s prophecy. And—”

  “Shit. Then, the prophecy is being fulfilled.” Dakar slumped in his chair.

  “What prophecy?” asked Shay.

  Dakar said, “Aileen was a powerful precog that foretold to Djoser in the later years of his reign as pharaoh that he would acquire the spell keeper magus as a premag.”

  “And what?” asked Shay.

  “Just that.”

  Shay said, “Bit of a disappointing prophecy. The kid looked rough. They weren’t being nice to him. I don’t know what you guys can do, but you think you can get him out of there?”

  Ashor said, “Without a doubt, Djoser expects that, but there’s only so long the guy can hold out if he’s only a kid and remembers. How old would you guess he was?”

  “Thirteen or fourteen.”

  “Not good,” Dakar said.

  Shay caught Dakar’s gaze. “He also said for me to tell you he knew how to fix your curse. Does that mean our curse?”

  Dakar shot upright from his slouch and glanced at Khyan. “The gods are going to help us?”

  Khyan slapped the table. “’Bout time the fuckers gave you a break, but you realize even if he knows the way to end it, the answer is going to be some sort of asininely complicated shit.”

  “Of course,” replied Dakar. “But look at what I’ve already done.”

  “Yeah, I’ll never forget that time you ate a raw camel heart while walking backward circles buck naked on the solstice. That was a winner.”

  “Go to hell,” Dakar mumbled. His cheeks colored.

  Several snickers echoed around the table.

  “I have a suggestion,” said Kira.

  “What’ve you got?” Ashor asked.

  “Let the Feds attack the Sanctum. Blend in and get the kid out while they do the distraction.”

  “The Feds?” asked Dakar.

  “Okay, maybe they’re not FBI, but some sort of nongovernmental, yet governmental undercover black-ops group. The guys Kane works for.” Kira looked to Shay and added, “Kane is my cousin. But nonetheless, I’m sure they can get all the same governmental support as the FBI.�
��

  “Is this you suggesting or the amulet?” Ashor asked.

  “Bit of a combo. I think they are trying to help somehow.” She smiled elusively. “Let me call Kane. He can do his job. They’re after this kid or at least trying to find people that abduct kids, anyway. Let’s not forget Terek just kidnapped his twin. If there’s one thing that makes Kane crazy, it’s anyone hurting Markus.”

  Ashor said, “Markus can get himself out. I have no doubt he’s annoying the shit out of the Hashishins at this very moment. If we try to do this, we’re going to need someone inside. Someone to get to the kid before all hell breaks loose when the Feds do a SWAT team move. Otherwise, I can guarantee Terek will have safeguards in place to eliminate him.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Shay softly.

  “No,” Dakar declared.

  “Does he know you’re back in the world? Or does he only think I’m here?”

  “As far as we know, he doesn’t know I’m back.”

  “That means that he doesn’t expect me to remember anything, not that I do, really. But at least nothing about you. Did he indicate he knew for certain that I was here with you guys?”

  “No,” said Ashor.

  “My advisor called a little while ago. He’s in Asheville and wanted to meet. The whole conversation with him was weird. It makes sense if perhaps this daemon-person already has him. He’s the only sort-of family that I have, and I’d appreciate a chance to get him out of there. Doesn’t this mean Terek Nadir is trying to get me back, if he’s using my advisor?”

  “You can’t remember what he’s capable of. I will not allow you to volunteer for that kind of torture,” Dakar said in a quiet, dark tone.

  Ashor said, “Believe me, Shay, he’s a sadistic bastard. He likes snakes, knives, and poison. For you, since you are susceptible, he’ll pull out every dark-magik potion and spell he can apply.”

  Shay walked around the conference table to lean onto it in front of Dakar, understanding she had to sell this only to him. “I’ve just been informed that in less than two weeks I’m going to die no matter what I do. Why not make myself useful? Sounds like I’ve been a bit self-indulgent in the past. That pitiful kid asked me to help him. And Stephen Levin, my advisor, is now in the hands of a sadistic daemon.” Shay moved back around the table to stand next to Dakar. She rested her hand on his arm. “I’m pretty good picking locks. I bet I can get them out.”

  Dakar exhaled long and hard.

  Shay said, “If I die but get them out, then I’d say at least I’ve made something good out of this situation. I don’t need your permission, but I’d like your help.”

  Dakar remained silent, as did the room, awaiting his decision. Shay watched a myriad of emotions pass over his face, finally settling on a brutal scowl with his brows drawn low. “This goes against all that I believe, but I shall respect your decision.” He turned to Kira. “If the amulet is pushing you to recommend this, then the gods had better come through. My faith in them right now is low. Believe me when I say they like to muck around with me for entertainment. I’ve been their marionette for long enough.”

  “I don’t know how to interpret it, but it’s pushing me, and us, to get this kid out of there. Maybe their goal is to get all of you guys back together. All ten back in the game.”

  Shay said, “The kid has an electric bracelet on his ankle that I can’t get off. Maybe we can come up with something to prevent it from killing him. My guess is Djoser will activate that bracelet if there is a threat of him escaping. Electrocute him or something.”

  Khyan laughed and glanced to Nate. “I’ll bet we can figure something out. There’s at least one of us that has a problem with shorting out electronics.”

  Nate flicked him a middle finger.

  Javen pointed at Shay’s face. “But what about that tattoo? Definite signal she’s had some personal time with the akhrian.”

  Dakar replied, “She can ask her bochnori to make it look as it did before.”

  “It can do that?” asked Ashor.

  “It can do just about anything to keep its person alive,” Dakar said in a quiet tone.

  Chapter Twenty

  While everyone vacated the room, Shay stared at the opposite wall, dazed. Shock froze her into the chair. They planned for her to make that meeting with her advisor tomorrow in Asheville. What happened beyond that point was probably not good for her.

  If she had a choice, she wouldn’t volunteer for a second meet with Terek. Ashor’s warning about his penchant for torture with snakes sent her mind into worst-case-scenario images. Just the thought of snakes biting her…a shiver of terror passed through her.

  “I want you to reconsider.”

  The accented baritone startled her. Dakar’s body blocked her view. The urge to scream agreement crested in her throat. God, she wanted to jump into his arms. To press her face tight to the safety of his chest and inhale his masculine scent. She wanted his arms around her. Okay, since when had he morphed into her safety net? Not an hour ago, he pulled a knife on her. Confusion and fear held her in their grip. Paralyzed.

  She chewed at her lower lip and slowly scanned upwards, unsure what expression would greet her. His handsome face was dark. She suspected he planned to do whatever necessary to convince her not to go.

  Softly she replied, “I’m dead. Might as well make myself useful before I die.”

  He knelt in front of her, bringing his eyes closer to her level. “The inevitability of our fate whenever we are in the same lifetime has haunted us for too long. But that does not mean you need to risk your life to try to save this child.”

  “Do you know him? Remember him?”

  “Yes. He is a force to be reckoned with when a full-strength adult. As a youth, he should have no memory, but the gods must have stepped in.”

  “If gods are involved, doesn’t that mean we need to do this?”

  “I used to believe that, but I no longer play their games. Sometimes it seems they organize complicated scenarios simply for entertainment.”

  “Why do we have to kill each other?” Tears burned behind her eyes and clogged her throat as doom closed in around her. She couldn’t possibly change so dramatically in the next few days that she’d want to kill the spectacular man in front of her.

  But a part of her believed. After all, every bizarre thing she’d researched was true.

  He caught a runaway tear with a finger. “We will get through this. We always do.”

  “Because we die. That’s not what I’d call getting through it. How do you not despise me the moment you see me, knowing you’ll croak inside of a few weeks?” She dropped her gaze from his and whispered, “I don’t want to be the cause of your death.”

  “I’ve never despised you. This is not your fault. You are a warrior at heart, but never a murderer. The curse is not you.”

  “Why do we have to do this?”

  “The gods fated us for each other. We cannot escape our need to find the other when in the same time. The curse is mostly my fault. Djoser hated me for killing his brother several years prior. When he discovered his newest sacrificial virgin missing…well, he did what he does best. Breaking the curse seemed impossible...until now.”

  “Then I will do this. I’m sorry for falling apart. This is just…well it’s a lot to take in at once.” She faked a smile. The panic in her brain didn’t relent.

  “Since you have volunteered for this insanity, let me show you how to use your bochnori.”

  “The moving tattoo?”

  He held out his hand. “Come.”

  “No funny business. No flipping into kill-Shay mode.”

  “As much as I may believe the Asian shaman might be right in what I should do, I cannot kill you. I apologize for threatening you earlier. If only you remembered the past, then you would not have been so frightened. This lack of memory puts us at a disadvantage. ’Tis up to you to determine when and how you destroy me in this life, and move us on to the next.”

  “I won’t do
it.”

  Softly he said, “You will. But let us not dwell on that. Let me show you the power the gods have gifted you.” He rose and held out his hand.

  Dakar led her into a spacious rectangular room with a shrine to weaponry. Swords, daggers, axes, maces, crossbows, hammers, and even spears littered every bit of free space on two walls. They were well-used weapons, given the buffed-up look to the weaponry and the hacked-to-shit hardwood floor. But no guns.

  Only half the floor was hardwood. The other half was covered in large blue mats. Practice room? She wondered if the shooting range was out back.

  She pointed at a broadax. “You’re definitely never getting me to use that. I doubt I could even lift it.”

  Dakar smiled elusively. “Do you know how to use any of those weapons?”

  “I can shoot a handgun, not that I see it on that wall. Beyond that, not really.”

  He moved to the wall opposite the weapon shrine and un-docked the MP3 player. With his back to her as he scrolled the player, he said, “We will work on that.” He redocked the MP3 player. He held out his hand. “May I have the honor of a dance?”

  The sultry notes of a Latin dance surrounded her. “What? Here? No thanks. What is this? A tango or samba? I definitely can’t do that.”

  Dakar cocked a dark eyebrow in an obvious dare. “I have never heard this music.”

  “Then how are we supposed to dance? I don’t know about you, but I’m a terrible dancer.”

  He pulled her toward him into dance position with her right hand clasped in his left. He placed her left hand on his shoulder and whispered, “Many remarked upon my great accomplishment on the dance floor in the past.”

  “I still don’t think so.”

  “Let your bochnori lead you. They are in many ways all-knowing…except when it comes to modern devices, I have discovered. Close your eyes. Let us find the rhythm. Ask your bochnori to aid you.”

  The firm clasp of his large hand over hers, the intimacy of his large body…that held her attention, not dancing. “Maybe you should teach me how to use the broadax.”

  His lips tipped upwards. “You think you could lift that weapon off the floor?”