by Zoe Forward
Although a sad excuse, he knew if he hadn’t Turned, sex wouldn’t have happened. Okay, maybe that was complete crap. Regardless, he didn’t want the gods to execute her.
If they weren’t meant to be, how had she healed his soul? The kem-seki no longer battled for control. Only by finding the one could that be done. Maybe he could plead insanity due to senariai bonding.
Nothing added up in his mind. Had Horus known about this when he pushed him to go get her? Probably and was laughing his ass off over the mess. Maybe this was some kind of sick test.
For salvaging his soul and giving him more time in this world, he owed it to her to be strong. To protect her from the gods. That meant he had to stay away from her, at least until he could speak with Ma’at.
Kira frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“What happened between us downstairs was a mistake and cannot happen again.”
“What do you mean? A mistake?”
Ashor placed his emotions in lockdown, hoping she couldn’t detect the inner chaos screaming in his brain not to do this. Not to lie, which was his only option. “The kem-seki, that darkness in me, seduced us. It was my mistake and I will pay for it to the gods. We’re only allowed to be akhrian and magus to each other.”
“I haven’t accepted the job as your healer. What about this bizarre link between us?” She tapped her forehead.
“It doesn’t mean we’re supposed to…be involved physically. That’s your fantasies driving you, as honored as I am to have been a part of those dreams. We’re connected because you’re our healer and I’m the Prime magus. We can’t…we’re done. That’s not happening again.”
“What happened was way more than just sex. What would you call it?”
“Something that can’t happen again. I haven’t been with a woman in a while. Maybe all I needed was a good fuck to bring me back from that edge of crazy.” He struggled to convey an indifferent look.
“A good fuck? That’s what I am? This is such bullshit.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been known to be swayed plenty of times before by a pretty face.” That’s got to be the most callous thing I’ve ever uttered. Goddamn it.
She planted an echoing slap onto his left cheek. “Asshole.”
No denying he deserved it. Years of discipline enabled him to hold his tongue.
Her pale eyes flashed fury. Damn, this woman was spectacular.
She hauled back and hit him again. Then whispered, “Your eyes no longer have that black stuff. That’s got to mean something.”
He wanted to scream yes it meant something, but couldn’t.
“Don’t you want me?”
Ashor’s knees almost buckled in reaction to the pain in those words and that projected into his head. He steadied himself with a hand on the wall. Somehow he choked out, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” And forced himself to exit.
Radiations of her hurt slammed into his body as he pulled the door behind him. He hung a left and walked as fast he could.
At the bottom of the stairs, he gripped the banister and squeezed his eyes shut against dizziness. He heard her sobs. The telepathy line remained wide open like someone forgot to hang up the phone. He needed to get back to her. Now.
Move away. You can’t be with her, he ordered himself.
Then, as if the phone hung up he heard nothing more from her. Felt nothing. He reached for her essence, finding her close, but silent. Somehow, that hurt more than anything else.
This was wrong.
“You coming?” V asked as he turned the corner toward the conference room.
Shit, that stupid meeting he’d asked V to arrange. “Yeah, on my way.”
****
Six somber gazes met his around the semicircular table. All present except Ethan. Ashor glanced to the wall, noting the newest addition to the fallen magi memorial, a blank sword mount for Navid’s blade. Dozens of swords littered the wall, each made from the perfect combination of copper, steel, and bronze that was necessary to destroy a daemon. The shape of the sword had evolved over the years, but not the alchemy of metals. They continued the tradition that each magus forged his own, although it took years to master the skill. As the magus’s proficiency in the making improved, so did his skill in the using. Over a lifetime, he would pour his soul into the construction and reworking of his sword.
Certainly seemed more logical for them to re-use old swords. But forging a new sword with each reincarnation was tradition steeped in old magik.
Javen said, “Kira does some amazing work. You were gone, my friend.”
Ashor nodded.
Javen looked hopeful. “How did she do it? Is she your senariai or did she heal you as no other healer has done?”
“What she did for me, I don’t think will work for you.” If Javen attempted to touch her, he’d gut him and feel no guilt about it. “Suggestions on the Djoser problem?”
Javen replied, “He was a powerful shit before, and I’m sure we can’t begin to imagine what new abilites he’s acquired. I wonder how he suppresses the killing urge.”
Eric commented, “If we kill him, won’t one of his Hashishin cronies just summon him back into this world?”
“There’s a good chance of that,” said Ashor.
Nate asked, “Is there a way to do more than just send him back to his realm? Can we kill him permanently?”
Ashor wondered if anyone else had actually read the ancient book as they were supposed to when inducted. “Yes, it’s possible, but the cost is high.”
“So what do we need to do?”
“One of us can relinquish his complete soul in the action of a daemon destruction. It’s irreversible.”
“What do you mean irreversible?” asked Nate.
“As in you can’t ever come back as a magus again. The end. To do this you lock your soul with the daemon as it transitions back to its world. It’s forbidden. Not an option. There are just too few of us to lose one of us permanently.”
V said, “Maybe we can ask the goddess to give us more help. Perhaps it’s time to have more of us in the fight.”
Ashor nodded. “Perhaps we can’t resolve this until we consult with her.” He sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Edmund Laroche was Kira’s father. She’s got to be the akhrian.”
Eric smiled. “Edmund had a daughter? Sneaky bastard. She’s connected to you. She’s your senariai. Look at your eyes. Admit it. The darkness has receded. And you were gone. I’ve been there, man. It’s amazing in the beginning, isn’t it?”
Ashor scowled.
“What did the book say about you and an akhrian getting it on?” asked Javen.
“She can’t be both.”
Javen mused, “This is pretty fucked up. We need to know if she’s the akhrian or if we lucked out and found a girl with skills. If she’s not the akhrian, maybe she can temp until we find him. I’d ask Eric about his experience, but he was unconscious when she did her thing. Let’s get Ethan in here. I want to know how her skills compare to the previous healers. No offence, Ashor, but I suspect you experience something different than we would. V, get Ethan out of bed.”
“She’s got the mark,” Eric offered and glanced to Ashor to back him up.
Ashor shrugged, secretly hoping they could prove she wasn’t their healer. False hope. He kept the Horus visit to himself.
“She’s got the mark? Then why the hell are we debating if she is or isn’t?” asked Nate.
“I could’ve imagined it,” Eric offered. He shrugged back at Ashor, clearly understanding his desperate need for Kira not to be their healer.
“She healed me too,” Christian piped up.
Javen grumbled, “Like we’d trust anything you had to say about a woman. You’d probably say she was the akhrian just to have another female with her hands on you.”
“I resent that,” Christian shot back.
A few minutes later, V returned followed by a slow-walking Ethan. The recently injured warrior sat heavily in an empty chair.
&
nbsp; V said, “We need to know if Kira’s the akhrian. Tell us what happened when she healed you.”
Ethan smiled and in a slurred voice said, “Haven’t been this high since I got shot in the war. Cantigny. First World War. Such a pisser. It was my unit’s first real battle and then bang. The incompetent medic gave me an OD of morphine. Then the akhrian appears out of nowhere and here I am.”
Ethan absently ran a hand over his goatee. “Kira’s approach is different than that of the previous two akhrians. Trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of quite a few healing sessions. Her skill is…well, it’s really good.” He looked to Ashor. “I swear, it’s not sexual. Honest. I have no designs on your woman.”
Knowing Ethan must’ve picked up that he was a millisecond from going for his throat over the table, Ashor nodded. But continued to glare.
Ethan laughed. “I knew she had to be your senariai. I mean, how else could you have found her on Long Island? She’s a fox. Great tits. Did I say that out loud? Shit. No offense, man. Promise, I won’t ever touch.” He crossed his fingers over his heart.
Christian chuckled. “And you call me the perv?”
Ethan turned to Christian. “Hey, you try going eighty years without getting any.”
Christian said, “It’s not as if you couldn’t.”
Ethan massaged his forehead. “The past akhrians always acted so...I don’t know, like they had to do it, but didn’t necessarily want to.”
There were several grunts and nods of agreement around the table.
“With Kira, she cares. Maybe it’s because she’s a trained medical doctor. Her energy is…Shit, this sounds cheesy, but it felt comforting. While I focused on that comforting sensation, she fixed the problems. There was no pain. I never really thought about it, but the other akhrians never gave a rat’s ass about our comfort level. She also did something extra.”
Ethan’s eyes became misty as he held his right hand up, rotating it in examination in front of his face. “I’ve had a loss of sensation in my hand, my sword hand, for twenty-four years. Edmund repaired the injury when a daemon sliced my palm open, but it had no feeling and spasmed randomly since that time.”
“That’s the kind of info we need to know. Puts us all at risk,” Javen said.
“The weakness shamed me. It’s why I’ve had such trouble fighting, which many of you bitched about in practice. The spasms usually waited to start until the action got intense. Once it got going, I could barely hold the sword. I tried everything for it, even acupuncture. Nothing helped and I’m shit with my left hand. I didn’t want to gripe to Edmund because, well, you guys know. He was in the akhrian-that-didn’t-give-a-shit category when it came to personal problems. Well, Kira fixed it. I swear I didn’t ask her to. She just somehow knew.”
A tear floated down Ethan’s check, which he swatted away and said, “Fuck, this is embarrassing. Goddamned drugs. I tell you, I can feel my hand again. I could fight now without fear I’ll lose sensation. She gave this back to me.” More tears floated down his face, which he swatted away.
Ethan’s grateful gaze locked onto Ashor. “Until now I never completely understood the vow to protect the akhrian. After this, I swear to you, I would lay down my life for her. I swear it on my soul. I also swear that even if she’s just filling the position temporarily and even if we get a new guy, I’m still asking her to be my doctor. You can give me that look all you want, Ashor, but as far as I’m concerned you can take your jealousy and shove it. She’s a lot better at the healing thing than any of the others were.”
Ethan pointed at Christian. “Don’t you dare make one of your comments. She did it to you too, I know it.”
Christian nodded without an ounce of humor. “You’re right. And I’d probably also ask her to be my doc.” He turned to Ashor. “Strictly professional. Swear.”
The level of protective loyalty Kira had inspired in these seasoned warriors in so little time amazed Ashor. He understood the unspoken consensus in the room. She was the greatest healer any of them had ever seen and that without the amulet to augment and guide her skill. She was the akhrian regardless of her bond to him.
“Then, we’ve got to go to the goddess. However, we can’t summon her without the amulet. She was fairly pissed we’d somehow misplaced it the last time the subject of the akhrian came up.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
He’s the Prime asshole, Kira thought as she furiously swiped at tears. She expected something bad once the post-sex high cleared, but not a good fuck.
Time to get out of this place. Maybe distance would dull the pain of his words. They rang false, but hurt. The bedside clock read thirty minutes until her rendezvous with Kane. Enough time to shower and leave.
She gave herself no dally time in the shower. If she slowed down, her mind would dwell on the past few hours.
With Kane’s bag over her shoulder, she descended the stairs as silently as possible, this time careful to avoid the squeaky step. At the bottom, she blew out a nervous breath. The magi were close. They wouldn’t let her leave if they caught her.
Moving through the kitchen, she exited the side door. The minute her foot touched the predawn damp ground, uncertainty gripped her hard. Intuition urged her to stay. Her pride prodded her to go.
A good fuck? He could kiss her ass.
She ran for the wall. At least it wasn’t smooth stone. That rock-climbing phase during her undergraduate years was finally going to be useful. Muscles that had not been called on for free climbing in years protested on the ascent. It wasn’t the most graceful climb she’d ever done, but she scrambled over.
She massaged her screaming thighs while blending into the shadows low to the ground next to the wall. She slowed her fast respirations to a measured rhythm, which allowed her to focus on the area around her. No people. Within a few minutes, a dark SUV crept along the road. Kira sensed the occupant was irritated and alert. Kane.
The SUV slammed to a stop when she hopped out of the bushes. She pasted on a false smile. “Hey, Kane.”
He gave her little more than a glance as the car rolled away from the magi estate.
“Heard from Markus yet?” she asked.
“No.” A tic worked in Kane’s upper jaw and he tapped one of his fingers on the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry. None of this was my fault. Really. From the start weird things just kept happening.”
“It’s Markus’s fault. Little pisser got you into this mess. This is the worst he’s been responsible for. I’m not sure how thrilled I am that your magi are real. They’re a tough lot.” That from Kane was saying something; he never thought anyone was tougher than the Rangers.
“At least you’ll stop thinking I’m nuts. I’m pretty sure I can’t go back to my residency, because those Hashishin guys know where to find me now. All those years of studying down the toilet. What am I going to do now? I can’t even go back to the apartment to get my stuff.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He glanced her way. “You seem pretty okay, considering what was going on the last time I saw you. You sure you’re recovered?”
“I’m good now.”
“Did those guys work some voodoo or something to speed the healing? You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t really want to know, just so long as there are no long-term side effects.”
Kira smiled. “No voodoo. Where’d you get this car?”
“Company car.”
“The company is here in Jacksonville? Where did you go?”
“Business.”
“Is that what caused the cut on your left arm and the reason you’ve got your arsenal attached to your body? Level with me, Kane. What exactly are you up to and who do you work for?”
“Classified.”
“I knew it. You never really left the service, did you? If you had, you’d have changed your hairstyle. I know how much you’d like to have it longer. Don’t give me that look. I’ve seen the way you look at Markus’s hair. You’d have it just like his, if you could.”
>
“That’s about as much as you get to know today. I’ll drive us to the house in Virginia. Then, I’ll find Markus.”
They fell into silence. Her intuition screamed at her to return to the magi. Shut up, she pleaded.
She relaxed into the soft leather seat and zoned. An hour later, Kane exited the highway and pulled into a twenty-four hour diner.
Kira raised her eyebrows.
“What? I need caffeine and I can hear your stomach grumbling. Besides, we need to talk.”
“But you hate this chain. What was it you said last time I suggested this place? I remember. You said it was grease central guaranteed to cause artery blockage with each bite.”
“I’m just getting coffee. You’re the one that’s going to eat.”
“Maybe I don’t want to block my arteries.” Her stomach rumbled loudly. She shrugged and smiled.
“There’s nothing else open this late at night out here in bumfuck.”
“Everyone is going to stare at me with all this facial bruising. And what about these neck sutures? They’ll think you’re beating me.”
“It’s not that bad.”
The restaurant was brightly lit. The smell of something burnt and stale coffee greeted them as they entered. They each slid into opposite sides of a yellow booth.
An obviously exhausted waitress with bright red, fried hair appeared. She hastily wiped a few food crumbs from their table with a damp rag before removing a pad from the apron at her waist. “Sorry about the smell, y’all. Jeffrey burnt some toast. It should clear off in a few minutes. What can I getcha?”
“Coffee. Black,” Kane requested.
Kira scrutinized the laminated menu and ordered a few items.
As the waitress strolled away, Kira scanned each occupant in the restaurant. A flirting teenage couple played with the sugar packets, spraying them all over the table. A loner in a T-shirt with a medic insignia sipped coffee at the counter. A group of aged men dragged on cigarettes as they exchanged jokes.
