Nightwalker

by Jacquelyn Frank

  “Welcome to the house of the Politic Bodywalkers…and the commune of almost all the known Nightwalker races. With your arrival and Viève’s presence, that leaves only one group of Nightwalkers not represented here. The Mysticals.”

  “We are here as seekers of knowledge. We have come to examine your claims. Nothing more,” Ceara said.

  “Of course,” Kamen said. But the fact was, he felt calmer knowing they were here. Now he was desperate for the Mysticals to get on board. If he could just get one of each member of the Nightwalkers there, maybe he could devise a way of breaking the curse. It certainly seemed as though that would be the key component. Then, perhaps, with a little magical assistance…

  But he was getting ahead of himself. Having them represented was only a small part of it. The races all needed to come together, to be a part of this wholeheartedly. That would mean convincing the Phoenixes that there was trouble worth their attention. He had to figure out how to achieve that shy of Apep attacking them again.

  That was it! He could cast a witness spell! He quickly ushered them all into the house. There he found Jackson and his wife, Marissa, as they were entering the living room. The couple came to a surprised halt when they saw their naked guests. Viève as well.

  “Menes,” Kamenwati said, “this is Ceara and Cordo, representatives of the Phoenix tribe.”

  Jackson’s Bodywalker soul was known as Menes, a great Egyptian pharaoh of the past and now Pharaoh of all the Politic Bodywalkers. He went by either name, but usually was known as Jackson.

  Jackson moved forward and extended a hand toward the male Phoenix. The Phoenix looked at the hand then looked up into his eyes.

  “This one says there is a threat to the Phoenixes. We are here only to assess that threat.”

  “Well, we can help with that,” Jackson said. “But first we should introduce you to the others in the house.”

  “We do not have time for such things. Nor does it matter who is here in this house. All that matters is the threat. You do not look threatened at present. You look quite at ease.” Cordo narrowed suspicious eyes on them all.

  “If you give me a few moments to recover from the streak that brought you here,” Kamen said, “I think I can show you what you need to see.”

  Jackson lifted a brow. “How will you do that?”

  “You will have to place a small amount of trust in me.” Kamen knew just how difficult that was for the Pharaoh. “This is Viève. She is a Wraith representative.”

  That elicited gasps from the two Phoenixes. “You ally with the Wraiths? They are wicked creatures!” Ceara said.

  “We are allying with all the Nightwalkers,” Kamen said harshly. “Including the Wraiths. And she has done nothing wicked, I assure you. Indeed, she has been most accommodating and understanding of the plight we are all facing.” Which was more than he could say for them. But he didn’t blame them. He was asking a lot of them in a short period of time. Still he would not have them denigrating Viève. She did not deserve that. Other Wraiths perhaps, but not Viève.

  “Well, you are all welcome here,” Jackson said, running a hand back through his crisp, short black hair. “We have a lot of Nightwalkers in this house and in the two other houses on the property. Some of them you can’t see, but believe me when I say they are there. We’ve got the laundry to prove it.”

  “What other proof do you have?” Ceara asked curiously. “How do you know they are there?”

  “The humans on the property can see and speak to them. They act as our interpreters. If you have anything to say to any of the First Faction you have to go through them.” Kamen quickly explained who the members of the First Faction of Nightwalkers were.

  “You allow humans to know about you?” Cordo asked, clearly appalled at the notion. “Where we come from the humans only speak of us in legend.”

  “They speak of Vampires and Lycanthropes and Demons in legend. Djynn as well. But if we are to communicate with each other, humans are essential. Humans and half-breeds.”

  “Half-breeds?” Viève asked, perking up.

  “Nightwalkers bred with humans can write to one another. Or that has been our experience so far. They can feel each other as well. But they can’t see each other any more than we can,” Kamen said.

  “So you mean they’re useful to you?” she asked. “To communicating, I mean.”

  “Yes. Very useful,” Kamen said. He reached out and touched her face briefly.

  Jackson’s eyes widened at the gesture. Was that affection he had just seen from Kamenwati? The coldest, most analytical and calculating man he knew…showing affection? It boggled the mind.

  Jackson put that aside and focused on all of his new guests. “Would you like some clothes? We keep clothing in many sizes and styles for guests such as yourselves.”

  “We don’t wear clothing.”

  “Usually,” Ceara spoke up giving Cordo a hard look. “But in this case we are willing to do so.”

  “Why? To make them more comfortable?” Cordo scoffed. “We are not here to make friends.”

  “Yes, you are,” Kamen said harshly. “You are here to assess the need to strike an accord between our peoples. To do that means you have to get along with everyone here. You might make an effort to that end. Especially since, once you see the threat in question, you will need us as much as we need you.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Cordo said coldly. “Very well, bring us these clothes.”

  Marissa gestured for them to follow her and they didn’t seem to understand.

  “Follow me,” she said, clarifying the gesture. Cordo frowned but did so, pulling on Ceara’s hand and leading her with them. Once they were out of the room, Viève sighed. “They are very unpleasant,” she said.

  “There are those who would say the same about your race,” Jackson said candidly.

  “And they would be right,” she replied grimly. “The Wraiths are not ones to make friends, not even amongst themselves. We gather just once a year, more to mate than anything else. But I’ve never…I hear they’re grim affairs.”

  “You’ve never gone to one of these gatherings?” Jackson asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wouldn’t be well received. You see, I am a half-breed. That is not looked upon with a kind eye amongst Wraiths.”

  “But it is looked upon with a kind eye amongst us,” Jackson said quickly. “The more people who can communicate with the other Nightwalkers the better.”

  “Are you sure I can do it?”

  “All the other half-breeds can.”

  “Oh. Well, I would like to try.”

  “Perhaps later,” Kamen said. “Right now I need to go to my room and gather some spell components together. I need to read up on something called a witness spell. And I will need you, Jackson, and Marissa for the spell. You will be a key component.”

  Jackson frowned. “We do not like magic,” he said hesitantly.

  “Why not?” Viève asked defensively. “It has allowed him to make great strides in this peace accord you are so keen on.”

  “It’s just…it has always meant something negative for the Politic. It is hard to change that way of thinking.”

  “Well now you have more than one magic-using Templar that has defected to your side. It might be wise to open your mind to it a little. It may be key to breaking this curse and defeating Apep,” Kamen said.

  “I realize that,” Jackson said grimly. “It’s just habit. There are a lot of people here who feel the same way. The Politic have been fighting the Templars for so long…but I have great hopes that one day there will no longer be Templars and Politic. It will just be Bodywalkers as a whole. And there will be no First Faction or Second Faction of Nightwalkers; it will just be Nightwalkers, fully united.”

  “That sounds almost like a dream.” Viève sighed. “Everyone finally getting along with everyone else. Wouldn’t that be nice?” But then she said, “But I wouldn’t count too heavily on the Wrai
ths. They are very selfish.”

  “And you? Are you selfish?” Jackson asked, a tease to his tone.

  “I can be, I suppose. Aren’t we all in our way? We all want what’s best for ourselves. In this case, we hope what’s best for us is understood by everyone to be us all working together.”

  “To that end, I must go to my rooms. Jackson, will you see to it Viève is introduced around the estate?”

  “Of course. Viève,” Jackson said, holding out an inviting elbow. It was a gesture of pure trust, she realized. He had to know that a Wraith’s touch could kill him. But he had seen Kamen touch her with no ill effect and was assuming there would be no malice to her touch. She took his arm with a shy smile. Kamen studied them critically a moment then, with a short nod, he left to go up to his rooms.

  Viève followed Jackson around the huge house. They first entered an enormous living room, where she met Ahnvil’s wife, Kat.

  “This is my blushing bride,” Ahnvil said, his thick Scottish burr as deep and warm as the look in his eyes when he gazed at Kat. It was a study in contrasts. The huge Gargoyle male was extremely tall and buff; his muscles seemed to have muscles. Kat was small and petite, lost completely in his loving hug as it swallowed her whole. “We got married last week to the day. ’Tis our one week anniversary. And I’ve something special in mind, make no mistake about that, Kat lass.”

  “Stop it!” she cried, blushing a pretty shade of pink. “Do you have to tell everyone?”

  “And anyone. The whole world’s to know how I feel about you, Kat lass, and I doona want to change that.”

  She sighed, clearly put upon, but she smiled fondly at him and patted him on his bulging biceps. “Don’t mind us,” she said. “What were we saying? Oh yes, I was the first half-breed to make contact with the First Faction of Nightwalkers. It was quite by accident, although Bella, the Druid whom I ran into, says a premonition drove her to be exactly there at the exact time she needed to be there. You see, she has these super intense premonitions. Oh, and she’s an Enforcer. Which is like a cop. A real bad-ass kick-ass cop that keeps Demons in check. And if you knew how powerful these Demons are, you’d know keeping them in check ain’t easy.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “But enough about us, let’s talk about you,” Kat said, leaning forward with interest. “Tell us all about yourself.”

  Viève paled. If there was one thing she didn’t want to do, it was talk about herself. She suddenly missed Kamen’s protection and she found herself a little stunned by the feeling. Since when had she started thinking of him as her protector? They hadn’t even known each other for more than a few hours. Why was she suddenly so dependent on him?

  Because she was completely out of her element. She was not the right choice for an assignment such as this. She knew nothing about diplomacy. She didn’t even like to talk to people. She had learned to keep quiet and not ask any questions. She had never even travelled away from her house, not even for the Kinua. All she did was work in her garden or, in the winter months, read and sew. She did her share of chores…more than her share. But no one in the cell, not even her mother, went out of their way to talk to her. There were days when she didn’t speak a single word to anyone. And that was just the way they liked it.

  She wondered why the Doyen would give such an important job to someone like her. He had clearly known she was a half-breed. Why would he even trust her? According to her cell she wasn’t worthy of trust. By nature of her human side she was prone to be a deceiver and a liar.

  “There’s nothing to tell. Just that I’m a half-breed Wraith and I’ve been sent here to see if you can get all eleven Nightwalkers together before we agree to become the twelfth.”

  “And if we can’t do that, the Wraiths won’t join us? What will they do when Apep goes gunning for them?” Kat asked.

  “Apep has already made contact with the Wraiths,” Viève said quietly. “He demands that they serve him as they have done in the ancient past.”

  Kat paled. “And will they do that? I don’t know what we’ll do if a race full of Nightwalkers who can simply kill us by touch were to fight against us.”

  “Oh no, I don’t think the Doyen wants that either. If it were up to him we’d just remain neutral.”

  “Apep won’t allow that. He will demand obedience,” Jackson said.

  “And that’s why I’m here,” Viève said.

  “Well, we are glad you are,” Jackson said. “Come. Meet everyone else.”

  She followed him. She met the humans Max, a longtime Bodywalker associate; Angelina, Marissa’s sister; and Leo, a tough-looking man, the sort any human would be a fool to mess with. His bride, Faith, was much more open and easygoing. She laughed easily and her eyes shone with warmth and welcome. Then she met Ram and Docia, a blond god of a man and a petite but curvy brunette, who was Jackson’s sister.

  It was a lot to keep track of, but Viève prided herself on doing it well. If she was going to be thrust into this position, she was going to do the best she possibly could.

  Jackson then used Max to introduce her to the First Faction of Nightwalkers that were about. She couldn’t see any of them, but Max had gotten used to describing the two sides to one another so he gave brief descriptions. There was Jacob and Bella. A Demon and a Druid respectively, the male tall and tanned and dark-haired and the female short and sassy with long black hair. There was Sagan, the Shadowdweller male who apparently couldn’t tolerate even the smallest amount of light, so he spent his time in his rooms with his wife, Valera, a natural born Witch. Apparently she could do magic, as long as it was in self-defense or with good intentions; otherwise it would stain and corrupt her. Sagan was dark-skinned, tall, and black haired. Valera was a redhead of average height and build for a woman.

  Then she was introduced to Jasmine, the black-haired slender Vampire, and her mate, Adam, who was a Demon. Like his brethren he too was tall and well-built and black-haired.

  Then she met Windsong, a Mistral, whose song could entrance anything that heard it. She was a small-boned woman who could turn into a bird on command, her soft brown hair becoming soft brown feathers.

  Last she was introduced to Jinaeri, a slender brunette Lycanthrope who could apparently turn into a lemur at any given moment. The idea tickled Viève. The idea of anyone being able to change at will to an animal—how much fun that must be! So liberating. She had seen it with the Phoenixes and had marveled at it then. To think there were those who could become any animal on the planet. Although, as she understood it, each Lycanthrope could change into only one of three forms. Their human selves, a specific animal, and a human-sized cross between human and animal. So basically Jinaeri’s third form was that of an ape-woman type of appearance.

  She was exhausted by the time she met Jinaeri. Jackson could see her fatigue so he steered her toward the stairs.

  “Let’s get you back to Kamen,” he said. “It seems you are comfortable with him.”

  She flushed a little. What did that mean exactly? Had she done something to give away the fact that she was attracted to Kamen? If so she couldn’t remember what it was. Did that matter to them? She didn’t see why it should, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to do something wrong after only being there for less than an hour. Her role here was very important. The Doyen believed there was a threat because Apep himself had already approached him, so she did not require proof as the Phoenixes did. She was there to see everyone joined for the good of her own species. The Doyen had not said as much, but she felt it was true.

  That and she felt surprisingly welcome here in just this short amount of time and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin that. It was a good feeling, a feeling she had never really known before. But Jackson had explained to her the difference between Politic and Templar Bodywalkers, and how the Templars had been the enemies of the Politic for so long. Would they frown upon her for liking their once-enemy, a Templar Bodywalker? She wondered what crimes they thought him guilty of in sp
ecific. Was he even guilty of any crimes at all? Or was he like her? Guilty of just being different?

  But there were so many different people here, all being accepted, that she found that hard to believe. They were even accepting her…so far. They hadn’t really gotten to know her yet, and she hadn’t gotten into any trouble yet. But she would work very hard at not upsetting anyone. Maybe here she would succeed when before she had failed.

  She followed Jackson up two flights of stairs and into the depths of a hallway. The house was huge and it must have been quite an undertaking to have it built out there in the middle of nowhere. Jackson opened a door and Viève found herself standing in the room she had been in with Kamen earlier. She could tell by the ashen circle on the floor and the bits of herbs that had been strewn about. There, on the chair, was where he had kissed her.

  She blushed at the thought and covered her cheeks self-consciously and out of habit to hide it. But then she remembered she wasn’t with Wraiths and these people wouldn’t care if she blushed like a human or not. She dropped her hands and swallowed bravely. She felt exposed, but refused to cover up again.

  Jackson didn’t even seem to notice, a fact that relieved her. Kamen was in the room, seated at a desk in the far corner. He had a worn journal in his hands and was alternately thumbing through it and through some old tomes he had opened up before him. He didn’t even glance their way, instead staying focused on his task.

  “I feel Viève is more comfortable in your company,” Jackson announced to him, making Viève blush again. “So I will leave her with you for now. Viève, should you need anything just ask any person in this house. We are all here for the same purpose and we will all help whenever and however we can. If that means making you more comfortable, then that is what we will do.”