Nightwalker
Page 3
As for the house, it was a quaint little farmhouse. Generations old, but it was well cared for. There was pretty landscaping around the front yard. Someone had taken their time gardening.
And no sooner had he thought that than a woman came around the side of the house, wearing gardening gloves and carrying a tray of seedlings.
It was instantly clear that she was a Wraith. She was pale—ghostly pale—her hair an iron gray length caught back in a perky ponytail atop her head. But she didn’t look like any Wraith he’d met in the past. She was actually quite pretty, not gaunt-faced with prominent bones. She had high cheekbones, but other than that her face was soft and round.
She caught sight of him and froze midstep. The tray of seedlings nearly dropped from her hands, but she caught it, clutching at it as if it could somehow shield her from him.
“Wh-what do you want?” she demanded of him. “This is p-private property.” She looked about furtively, casting a longing look at the front door to the house. Clearly she was judging whether she could make it past him before he could grab her.
“You don’t look like any Wraith I’ve ever seen before,” he said.
If she could have gone any whiter, she would have right then.
“Y-you know what we are?” She was incredulous. Then she was afraid. “What are you? Go away! I’ll scream!”
“I am not here to hurt you. I am here to talk. To make contact between the Bodywalkers and the Wraiths. To perhaps come to some kind of truce—”
She cut him off by laughing in a hard burst.
“Bodywalkers? The Bodywalkers, like all the other Nightwalkers, want us dead and gone.”
“Not true,” he said. “Perhaps there has been animosity in the past, but the current regime of the Politic Bodywalkers is interested in a peaceful accord. Is there someone in charge that I should be discussing this with?”
“If you knock on that door”—she nodded to it—“you’ll have a farmhouse full of Wraiths’ attention. But you don’t need them because all I would have to do is touch you and you’d be dead,” she said.
Kamen thought about that a moment. “Then why are you so afraid of me?”
Her hands clenched around the seedlings tray.
“I’m not a-afraid of you. But you must be a very powerful Nightwalker for them to send you all alone into a den of Wraiths.”
Well, at least she was smart. He had to give her that.
“I am a powerful Nightwalker, but I’m not interested in using that power unless I am forced to. I could have used it on you already but I didn’t. And now we are talking. Which is all I wish to do today. Talk with Wraiths and let them know my purpose and why.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you want peace with the Wraiths?”
He wasn’t sure if he should jump into the details right away, but he did so anyway.
“Because an enormous danger, one that threatens every Nightwalker breed there is, is brewing and will attack at any time. It will start with the Bodywalkers and work its way down to the Wraiths. It’s only a matter of when.” He eyed her from head to toe. She was smaller than he was. Smaller by far. Petite but busty in the tank top she wore with a pair of worn denim jeans. She must be the thoughtful gardener of the house, seeing as though the knees of the jeans were stained with fresh soil. She had probably done every last bit of the landscaping. It bemused him, to think of a Wraith doing such a normal thing. To care about plants and the appearance of the house? It was all very…human.
“They won’t believe you,” she said, lifting her chin a little. “And you can’t threaten a race of people who only need to touch you to kill you.”
“I don’t have time to explain it all to you. I need to speak with whoever is in charge here. I would prefer if it were the person in charge of all the Wraiths, but I’m willing to start lower down on the chain and work my way up. But I’m not going to explain it to you then repeat myself again later on. Let’s start with you going into that house and bringing out whomever is in charge.”
“In charge of all the Wraiths?” She dropped her jaw. “You want to speak with the Doyen?”
“Is that what you call him?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes. I want to speak with your Doyen. How else am I to implement a peace accord?”
“I thought you were just trying to start with this cell. I didn’t realize you were thinking you could do something like that all by yourself.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “Why are you all by yourself? Seems to me a delegate for peace from the Bodywalkers would come with a group. For support or something.”
“We felt it would come across less threatening if I were to come alone.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Then she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and began to nibble on it.
“I’m supposed to kill any person who comes up to the house. We all are. I’m supposed to be killing you right now.”
“But you’re not,” he observed.
“I don’t want to drop my plants.”
“I’ll wait for you to put them down,” he said politely.
“A-aren’t you afraid? All I have to do is touch you.” She slowly bent her knees, lowering herself so she could gently place the tray of seedlings down in the grass. She stood up straight, still nibbling on that lip. She looked far more adorable than she did threatening right then.
“Then touch me,” he invited her softly.
She took off her gardening gloves, dropping them beside the seedlings, and rubbed together a pair of long fingered narrow palms.
“If I don’t, I’ll probably get in a lot of trouble,” she explained, almost apologetically.
“I understand. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”
She came closer to him. About two steps closer.
“You’ll have to get closer than that,” he noted.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried then. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why aren’t you?” he countered.
“B-because…because…” She floundered for a reason, clearly trying to avoid the true one.
“Because you’ve never killed anyone before?” he offered.
She looked at him in surprise. “How did you know that?”
“Call it intuition. So, you aren’t going to kill me and I’m not going to kill you. That’s a start anyway. How about we go inside the house next?”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t want to do that. They have killed and they won’t hesitate if you’ve invaded their territory. Besides, you have no idea the trouble I’d get into if I let you in the door.”
“Then do you propose we just stand out here and stare at each other?” he queried.
She bit her lip again and he couldn’t get over how ingenuous a gesture it was. It made her look so innocent and vulnerable. She was fortunate his intentions were good. Had they been otherwise she would be dead by now. The idea made him frown.
“I could…I could take you somewhere else. Somewhere they don’t know me. I know! I can take you straight to the Doyen’s offices! That’s really where you want to go anyway, isn’t it?”
Interesting, he thought. She would rather lead him into the heart of Wraith society than lead him into that house. He wondered at that.
“Very well. If you think that’s possible then yes, I would prefer to get to the heart of the matter.”
“I…I have to get cleaned up first. Can you meet me at the end of the drive in twenty minutes?”
He frowned. “You aren’t going to try to ambush me with greater numbers are you? I’d be a fool to let you go in that house.”
“Please…I promise it will be just me.”
For some reason he believed her. He nodded and moved away down the driveway. It was a very long drive that turned through a small patch of tall corn. This wasn’t part of the fields, but a hand-planted garden meant for personal use. But the corn was still high enough to hide him from the house and the house from him.
He kept h
is shield in place just to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if he found himself ambushed by a flock of Wraiths, but he’d prepared an escape plan. He could streak back to the ranch in New Mexico and then start all over again.
He ended up waiting thirty minutes before she came around the bend in the drive. It was worth the wait, he decided. She had let her hair down and held it back with a bejeweled headband. It looked almost like a tiara, he thought. Her hair fell in wavy curves along her shoulders and back, appearing to be much longer than he had thought when he’d seen it in the ponytail. He also realized her hair wasn’t a flat iron gray. It was shades of gray, from slate to ash and all the tones in between.
Her skin was a soft powdery white and he realized she had put on eye shadow in soft pink pastels, lining her eyes in a blue liner and coloring her gray lashes black with mascara. She had put on a fair pink lipstick. She looked completely human, if a bit on the pale side.
She was wearing a maxi dress, its empire waist enunciating the bounty of her bosom and the floor-length skirt making her seem taller than she actually was. The dress was pink, apparently a favored color, in a soft fabric; cotton he assumed. It hid the curve of her waist, but the elegant dress made no secret of the fact that she was everything feminine.
She had dressed up. It bemused him. Did she do this whenever she went out? Or was it because she was taking him to the highest ranking member of their society? He assumed it was the latter, but he wouldn’t be surprised if both were true. Now that she was out of her grubby jeans he could see there was a certain elegance to her. A measure of class.
She was unlike any Wraith he had come into contact with before. Then again, it had been at least a hundred years since he’d had contact with a Wraith. A lot could change in a century.
He should know. The last time he’d been alive it’d been the turn of the century, when women didn’t have the vote and still wore long skirts and corsets.
“You clean up surprisingly well,” he said honestly, if not thoughtfully. He wasn’t one to pretty things up and be concerned with the delicate feelings of others. He was honest to a fault. If he said something it was exactly what he was thinking. Anyone could be assured of his sincerity if nothing else.
“Thank you…I think,” she said. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was wearing rouge, but she seemed to blush at the compliment. It was immediately clear she wasn’t used to getting any attention. “It’s a long trip to Nevada. Where’s your car?”
“I do not travel with a vehicle,” he said. “Where in Nevada?”
“If you don’t travel by vehicle then how are we supposed to get there?” she asked with frustration.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that? Do you have an address?”
“There’s no address really. It’s in the middle of the desert.”
“A house? In the middle of a desert?”
“Well…sort of. More like a bunker. A very nice bunker.”
“Envision the place in your mind,” he said. Then more hesitantly. “I will need to touch you for this to work.”
“You can touch me. I can control the deathtouch. It won’t hurt you unless I mean for it to hurt you.”
That was a piece of information he had not been privy to before this. It was interesting to know. With some trepidation, he reached out and touched her forehead. Her skin was baby soft and smooth, warm to the touch. For some reason he had expected her to feel cold. Cold as death. But that was his fear of her ability to kill him with a mere touch of her fingers. She could kill him right then if she wanted to. But if he had read her right, she wasn’t really capable of killing him. It went against something inside her. He suspected that would change if she felt seriously threatened, but for now…
He closed his eyes and focused on her mind and the image she was projecting. He slipped them into the streak and they slid through the distance in a mere couple of heartbeats. They appeared at the edges of a fenced-in property in the next instant. The Wraith—he had not gleaned her name as yet—doubled over the minute they were out of the streak. She grabbed onto his arm and fought to retain whatever was in her stomach. The streak did that to an inexperienced rider. It made them nauseated beyond compare.
He was impressed when she took a deep breath and managed to keep from vomiting. She straightened and with a staggering step she looked around them. They were just inside a barbed-wire fence that rimmed a desolate bit of property. There was only one structure on the property…a small shed of sorts. There were sentries at the entrance to the shed and at the gate in the fence. They had avoided one, but could not avoid the others if they wished to progress. This was going to be tricky.
“What’s your name?” he thought to ask when he went to address her and came up empty.
“Geneviève. But most people call me Viève.”
“Viève. Well, Viève, I am open to any suggestions on how to proceed.”
“This is your quest,” Viève said. “If I were alone I would simple phase through the ground and into the bunker. But if I did that with you and suddenly appeared—”
“Wait…you can phase me through as well?”
“Well…yes. All I have to do is touch you.”
“Those are very powerful hands,” he remarked, duly impressed with the extent of her ability.
“Not as powerful as most,” she muttered.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Viève said quickly. “So do you want me to phase you through or not? It will be dangerous for us to show up unannounced.”
“I don’t see how we have much choice. Those sentries aren’t about to let me pass.” Kamen’s mouth turned grim. “Phase us through. But you have to bring us directly to the Doyen. It’s the only way.”
“They will be able to see us go past them,” she said. “I can phase, not turn invisible. But as long as you are phased they cannot touch you and perhaps that will give you the time you need.” She bit at her lip a moment. “Please don’t make me regret this,” she said with imploring eyes. “If you try anything, I’ll be the first to touch you.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he countered. “But don’t worry. I won’t give you cause to touch me.”
She reached out and wrapped her hand around his biceps. Her touch was delicate, more like a caress. Kamen felt something inside himself tense with interest. It surprised him. He simply didn’t feel things like sensual pleasure any longer. And her touch was definitely a sensual pleasure. He didn’t know why, it simply was.
Suddenly she was pulling him downward and he felt his body passing through sand and earth. Then he was passing through the cold of metal and suddenly, they dropped into a large, richly appointed room. There were thick Turkish rugs laid out over deep Brazilian cherrywood flooring. Expensive artwork hung from the terra-cotta style walls. The shining, mellowed furniture was cherry to match the floors.
“I don’t know what room he would be in. But we are bound to run into someone—”
As she spoke, her voice came out a whisper, not because she was whispering but because it hardly held form in their disembodied state. No sooner did he hear the words then someone entered the room.
Now here was what he was used to a Wraith looking like. Gaunt and pale, washed of all color and, seemingly, life. There was a hollowness around his eyes. An emptiness in his pupils. He was thin and wiry. He wore a robe that draped to the floor over a pair of black slacks and a black button-down shirt, both of which came from a very expensive designer.
He spied them in the corner of the room and stilled. He shut the door and looked at them, not raising any alarm. He simply studied them for a moment.
“What can I do for you, half-breed?” he asked smoothly, his voice far richer than Kamen was expecting.
Half-breed? Ah, Kamen thought. That explained why she looked so different from the Wraith who stood before him now. She was not a fully bred Wraith.
“We are here to see the Doyen,” she said shakily.
“He’s a Bodywalker,” she said meekly. “He wishes to talk peace with the Wraiths.”
He laughed, the sound filling the room. “Other Nightwalkers do not ask for peace with the Wraiths. We are hated by all and we hate them in return. If you were fully bred perhaps you would know this. You best be gone before someone touches you with death.”
To Kamen’s surprise, Viève grew stubborn. “No. He wants to talk peace and I…I believe him. Isn’t it worth at least a few moments of the Doyen’s time? What if he is telling the truth? What if he really does want to talk peace?”
“And what if he’s using a silly little girl to get close enough to the Doyen to assassinate him?” the man countered.
“I may be a half-breed, but I am loyal. If he even thinks of hurting the Doyen, I’ll be the first to deathtouch him.”
She lifted her chin firmly and for a moment Kamen almost believed her.
Almost.
The other Wraith didn’t believe her either. He laughed.
“All right then, convince me. Let him speak for himself before I let him through to see the Doyen.”
Kamen stepped away from Viève, letting her touch fall away and becoming solid in the room. He kept his shield in place as he got closer to the other Wraith.
“There is a threat to all the Nightwalkers. A god named Apep has come to destroy all who stand in his way. Nightwalker…human…anyone. We must band together to fight this evil. It is the only way.”