Nightwalker

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Nightwalker Page 5

by Jacquelyn Frank


  “Let’s worry about that when the time comes,” Corrine said.

  “Let’s not. We need a game plan for all instances of battle,” Jasmine said. “We need to know exactly what we are going to do and who we are going to do it to. Humans can be dangerous too you know. What if they’re necromancers? Humans using magic can be very deadly.”

  Corrine and Bella nodded grimly. They knew that all too well. Necromancers could summon a Demon using its true Demon name and this gave them power over them. Those Demons then became corrupted and could be used to fight against their own brethren.

  “I hope there are no necromancers. I hate those guys,” Corrine said with a little shudder. “I don’t think I should even be here. My ability is to find mates for other Nightwalkers. I’m basically useless.”

  “But Kane is not and you weren’t about to let him come here alone. As a Mind Demon he has great mental powers and can teleport as well. That might come in very handy in a fight. Your job is to get to safety the minute you see the poo hit the fan,” Bella said.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m supposed to corral all the humans and get us the frick out of Dodge. That’s my job.”

  “I think the humans already know to get the frick out of Dodge, but they’re going to need organization and that’s a knack you possess in spades,” Bella complimented her sister.

  “Gee thanks. So glad I could be useful,” Corrine said dryly.

  “Hey, everyone has a job. There are no small parts here,” Jasmine said. “Now who’s coming to town with me?”

  “I’ll go. I need to hit Walmart for some stuff,” Bella said. “We’re sending the kids to their siddahs. It’s too dangerous for them here. I should never have brought them. But I couldn’t bear the idea of being separated from my babies for such a long time.”

  Siddahs were Demon foster parents. When a Demon child reached a certain age and their power kicked in, Demons believed someone other than a parent should take over their care and training. Technically, Bella’s eldest child, Leah, should have already been with her siddah. Her power had been apparent ever since she was a small child. But Bella wasn’t ready to send her away. She and Jacob had agreed they would let her go on her sixteenth birthday. That was still a ways off, so Bella didn’t have to start fretting over it yet.

  But their siddahs were their safest bet for the time being. That meant sending Leah to the Russian court of the Lycanthrope Queen Siena, who was married to Leah’s male siddah, the Wind Demon Elijah. Leah’s female siddah was Legna, Noah’s sister and the Demon ambassador to the Lycanthrope court, so she was also in Russia.

  Her son would be going to the court of the Demon King. Noah and his queen, Kestra, were the young boy’s siddahs. Kane would teleport the children later that night. No doubt after many tearful goodbyes. But it was for the best. They suspected the only reason Apep had not attacked them so far was because of his pregnancy. For all they knew, he’d already given birth and it was only a matter of time until the god got his bearings and came after them with guns blazing.

  The thought pressed a sense of urgency onto Bella. She got up and abandoned her cup of coffee.

  “Come on. The kids are almost all packed. I just need a few things. I want them out of here within the next couple of hours.”

  “All right. Let’s go!” Jasmine levitated off the floor.

  “Uh, Jas…we can’t fly, remember? We have to take a car.”

  “Right.” Jasmine frowned with consternation. “I keep forgetting. Fine then, we’ll drive. Can we take the Cobra though? I want to drive a cool car.”

  “Yes, you can drive the Cobra,” Bella said with an eye roll.

  She snatched the appropriate keys off the Peg-Board by the kitchen door.

  Chapter 5

  Viève couldn’t believe what she had gotten herself into. Her mother had always told her she was nothing but trouble—that she was so stupid she wouldn’t know what to do in any situation, that she was useless to the Wraith race.

  Now she didn’t know if all of that had just come true, or if she’d just proved all of that to be false.

  She knew she wasn’t stupid. She was actually well read. But would a smart person have gotten mixed up in this mess? And she wasn’t useless; she tended the grounds and the garden with precision and grit. But she did get into a lot of trouble and this latest screwup was just one example.

  If it was a screwup. This man…this Bodywalker…was telling her she was practically the savior of her whole race. She didn’t know if she believed that much. Certainly not that much. But if this did work out, she would have been useful. And that was all she had ever striven to be.

  Useful.

  “I don’t even know your name,” she said softly.

  He looked sheepish. He had asked for hers but had not given his in return and she hadn’t thought to ask until right then.

  “Kamenwati. Kamen is fine.”

  “Kamen. Well, Kamen, what do we do now? It seems you’re kind of stuck with me. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

  “Surely you’d be better off doing this without a Wraith by your side? I mean, one look at me and everyone’s going to go running. They’ll never give you a chance. I think that’s what the Doyen is counting on.”

  “Perhaps,” Kamen said. “But we will foil that plan easily. You do not look like a Wraith right now. You look like a pale female human with gray hair. You don’t look like what I expect when I see a Wraith.”

  “I know,” she said with a frown. She had been called human so many times it was like an epithet. The curse of her existence. If only she had looked more like a Wraith, her life would have been very different.

  “This is a good thing,” he said intently, turning her to face him. He took the side of her jaw in his hand and tipped her head back. She found herself looking up into the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. They seemed…wise. Aged. Learned of the world dozens of times over. Which, if he was a Bodywalker, she supposed he was. He had black hair, cut crisply at the nape and the edges of his face. He was handsome in the way of humans, she supposed. He reminded her of one of those actors, only without the smile lines creasing his face. She got the feeling he did not smile often at all, because of that and because of his general demeanor.

  It was a shame. With such a handsome face, he probably had a very attractive smile.

  “You are very fair and quite beautiful. No one will be running from you in fear.”

  To a Wraith that should have been an insult. They lived to put fear into others. They sometimes entertained themselves by haunting humans, scaring the hell out of them. But mostly they just wanted to be considered the most frightening Nightwalkers around. The bad asses that no one should mess with.

  That was one of the reasons she was so surprised by the Doyen’s calm demeanor and even calmer negotiation. Wraiths were hotheaded. They reacted before they thought. It was one of the reasons why doing what he had done had made her really respect Kamen. For his bravery…or maybe his recklessness. She wasn’t sure which one to pay homage to just yet.

  But his touch on her face was nice, she thought. No one ever touched her. They weren’t a touchy-feely race as a whole, except when it came to the deathtouch. But perhaps that was why they never touched. One bad mood and bam…dead.

  Because the deathtouch worked on Wraiths just as well as it worked on all the other Nightwalker breeds. The only difference was a Wraith could avoid it by phasing his body, denying the ability to touch. But if a Wraith was taken by surprise in his solid form…

  She shivered a little at the morbid thought.

  “Are you cold?” he asked her thoughtfully. She wasn’t used to such kindness. She shook her head, the action making her jaw brush against the hand cupping it. The inadvertent caress gave her little goose bumps down the side of her neck.

  “I’m just not used to being touched,” she admitted.

  He immediately dropped his hand, making her feel instantly bereft. “I’m sorry
. That was wrong of me.”

  “No! I liked it!” she exclaimed. Then she realized what she had said and promptly blushed. “I meant to say, it wasn’t bothering me.”

  He frowned a little as he studied her. “Just the same, I will not touch you again without your permission.”

  “That’s kind of a silly statement,” she declared.

  “How so?”

  “Because on this little journey I take it we are going to have to touch for travel and touch for protection and touch for this and touch for that. Consider permission granted from now on,” she said with a definitive nod.

  “Very well,” he said, again that thought-filled frown marring his mouth. She wondered why he frowned so much. Yes, they were in a serious situation, but surely one little smile…what would that hurt?

  She smiled at him, hoping he would smile back. “Shall we get going then? Before those sentries catch sight of us?”

  His face remained impassive. “Yes, of course. But that means streaking again.”

  She blanched. “Oh. Well. I guess it can’t be avoided. Just remind me not to eat right before we go somewhere. So where are we going?”

  “Somewhere neutral and safe for the moment. I have to cast a spell in order to locate the Phoenixes. I can find the ruler of the Mysticals quite easily if I can get in touch with a certain Djynn I know.”

  “So you’re saying that the Djynn and the Night Angels are already on your side? And these six other Nightwalkers?”

  “I am saying exactly that.”

  “What are the other six like?” she asked.

  “Well, as far as I can tell, they are peaceful, intelligent, and politically sound.”

  “High praise coming from you, I guess.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean you strike me as the sort who doesn’t give praise too often.”

  “I suppose not,” he agreed. “I give it when and where it is deserved.” He took her measure. “For instance, I think you should know I consider you to be a very brave young woman.”

  She snorted a laugh. “I’m fifty-two. I’m hardly young.”

  “You are young by my standards. You look as though you are twenty at most. Forgive me if I insulted you.”

  “Nah. All women like to hear that they look young.” She smiled at him a little uncertainly, again hoping he would smile back.

  He did not.

  “You deflect compliments quite adroitly,” he said in a musing tone.

  She felt a flush creep up her neck and burn into her cheeks. Blushing. Another sign of her humanity. Another thing that set her apart from other Wraiths.

  “We should get going,” she said, turning her back to him.

  He was silent a moment and she couldn’t see his expression with her back to him, but after a long moment he said, “Very well. Give me your hand.”

  She held her hand out, waiting for him to grab it.

  “Turn and face me and put your hand in mine,” he said, enunciating the request softly and slowly.

  She turned and faced him, her whole being focused on not flushing under his regard of her. He held out his hand and waited.

  Why couldn’t he just take her hand and go from there? Why was he making such a production out of it?

  She sighed and slid her hand into his. His fingers immediately tightened around hers and she braced herself for the nauseating flight into the streak. But instead of that he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them against her knuckles in a whispery kiss. She blushed then, straight to the roots of her hair.

  “I like that,” he said softly.

  “Like what?” she asked dazedly.

  “The way you blush. It brings color to your cheeks. A very pretty color.”

  His words broke the spell for her. She went to pull away, but to her consternation he held tight.

  “What’s wrong with what I just said?” he asked her.

  “Nothing. Can we go please?”

  “Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Why can’t you accept a simple compliment?”

  “It’s not simple,” she said irritably. “Wraiths aren’t supposed to blush. They’re not able to. It’s just another way I’m different than the rest of them.”

  He looked down into her eyes very intently and said, “Sometimes different is better.”

  “Yeah? Well, tell that to my family,” she said wryly.

  “There is more to life than pleasing family,” he said.

  “Not to my life,” she said.

  “Maybe before. But now all of that has changed. And, I think, it’s for the best.”

  Then he whipped them into the streak.

  —

  Kamen didn’t know what had possessed him to act the way he had before the streak. To kiss her hand? To pay her compliments? But it had really bothered him that she thought so little of herself. Thought herself undeserving. He didn’t know why it should bother him, but it did. They came out of the streak and into his room at the New Mexico compound. He quickly grabbed for a trash can and held it out to her in case she needed it. But once again she impressed him with her ability to ride out the nausea of the streak. Soon she would get used to it, but for now it would continue to bother her.

  While she composed herself he walked into the sitting room adjacent to his bedroom. All of the furniture had been pushed back earlier and the components of a location spell had been laid out. He had already used them once to locate the Wraiths. Now he would do it again to locate the Phoenixes. The Mysticals he would save for last since he deemed the Empress the easiest to make contact with.

  He had already created an image of a phoenix which he would center the spell around. It was not an image of an actual Phoenix, but a representation of the bird most commonly associated with the term.

  He lit a candle and seated himself in the center of the circle he’d drawn out using the ash of an apple tree. There were three covered jars seated at three of the four compass points and he was seated at the fourth. The south position. He took the lit rosemary candle and touched it to each jar and then to himself, rubbing a bit of wax off each time. Then he settled the candle into its holder once more. He was aware of Viève entering the room and watching him, but to her credit, she didn’t say anything. She let him focus on the task at hand.

  It was a simple spell overall. A few common components, herbs and such. But the price that was paid for the information was anything but simple. As he spoke the words of the spell pain began to lance through him. He began to feel as though he were being pulled apart in four directions, north, east, south, and west. He ground his teeth together to keep from shouting out. He didn’t want to disturb his guest with the details of the spell. She was skittish enough as it was.

  But he was hiding nothing from Viève. She could see he was in pain however much he tried to hide it. She twisted her hands together anxiously, wanting to make him stop. It wasn’t worth it, she kept thinking. And then she would remember what was at stake and understood why he was willing to go through the pain. It was so strange, she thought. She had never known such a selfless individual before. Wraiths were notoriously selfish, always wanting to know what was in it for them. The Doyen’s behavior exemplified that. He would only help as long as there was something to be gained for himself and the Wraith race. It didn’t matter what the consequences were to anyone else if he refused. All that mattered to him was what way would benefit him the most.

  Yet here was this man…a man who had taken nothing for himself and strove with all he had to give, searching for answers and solutions to the danger he said was coming.

  But how did she know it was true? How did she know he wasn’t simply blowing the seriousness of the situation out of proportion?

  Well, the Doyen’s response for one. He would never have entertained Kamen’s presence if there wasn’t something serious involved. And he would never have sent her with him, for all she was a half-breed. She had this much to say about the Wraiths, they protected their own—no matter h
ow diluted their blood.

  No. The Doyen was worried. He wanted to be left alone, left out of the whole business entirely. That would be the safe thing to do…only he had come to realize there would be no neutral ground in this battle. The Wraiths would be the deciding factor and it would all come down to which side they chose.

  Kamen realized this, she was aware. He understood that sacrifices would have to be made, and he was willing to make them. So if he was willing, then she had to be willing too. And she would be willing. No matter how much it all frightened her, she would give no less than he did.

  She didn’t know why exactly. It wasn’t as though the Wraiths had ever been kind to her or made her feel welcome. But she wouldn’t wish harm on anyone. If something she did could protect her mother and those of her cell, well she owed them that much for giving her a place to live, didn’t she? She may not have been welcome, but she had been fed and clothed and housed in safety and relative comfort all these years.

  The spell ended with a sudden whoosh of air punching out from the center of the circle, blowing out the candle. Kamen sagged for a moment, then picked himself up, getting to his feet with only the slightest hint of unsteadiness. He straightened and tugged on the sleeves of his button-down shirt, organizing himself in appearance as well as mentally and physically.

  “Did it work?” Viève asked anxiously.

  “It worked. There is a large group of Phoenixes in Brazil, in an area just west of the Rio Braco do Potinga. I can streak us there in a matter of minutes.”

  He took a step toward her and suddenly pitched forward. She hastily crossed into the circle and thrust her body up beneath his arm and against his side to support him.

  “Not now you aren’t! You need to rest first!”

  “There isn’t time,” he said, giving in a little and leaning into her as she brought him to a couch nearby. He dropped onto it and sighed with relief. He was frustrated that he had shown and given in to weakness. He meant it, there wasn’t time for weakness. Enough time had been wasted as it was. Soon that monster would give birth, regain his strength, and then he would come gunning for the one thing that could potentially stop him in his tracks. The one thing that might somehow find a way to send him back to the hell that had birthed him.

 

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