Nightwalker

by Jacquelyn Frank

“She could be very useful. Unlike myself.”

  Every Bodywalker had a special innate ability—like Jackson’s telekinetic power. But Marissa’s power was as benign as it got. She was an empath. She could divine people’s emotions. She could feel the pain in the argument that had just happened.

  Which meant she would be useless come the morrow.

  “Marissa, you’ll be better off here.”

  “I know that,” she said quickly. “I’m not going to argue otherwise.”

  “Good,” he said with relief. “The last thing I need before this battle is to have an argument with my wife.”

  “I am aware of that. That’s why I’ve taken a whole ‘make love not war’ approach to our past few hours.” She ran her hand along his chest, down to his abdomen, over the mark of his ouroboros tattoo that marked him as a Bodywalker. She had a similar tattoo. They all did. It appeared the moment their Bodywalker soul joined with its host soul in the same body. “But you should try and get some sleep.”

  “That’s not likely to happen,” he said, bending down to kiss her with fiery heat. “So let’s continue to explore the ‘make love’ part of this approach of yours.”

  She laughed and let him kiss her. She let him fill her senses because, if she didn’t, she’d begin to think about the coming night and the fact that her lover was going to lead the charge against a maniacal being of unfathomable power. And she couldn’t bear the thought of it. She wouldn’t bear the thought of it until she absolutely had to. So if he wanted to make love until they were both overly sated, then that was exactly what she was going to do.

  —

  By the time dusk came, the house was already buzzing with life and activity. No one had slept well—if at all—and so they’d taken to wandering the house. They filtered into the main living area, an impromptu gathering of first one couple, then another, then another person and another until every seat was taken and they realized they were waiting for their leader to waken and join them.

  Jackson came down the stairs a short time later and found them all waiting for him expectantly.

  “Hey. Waiting for your fearless leader?” he quipped. “Someone should have come and got me.”

  “We knew you’d come eventually,” Ram said. He clasped hands with Jackson and brought him in for a masculine hug and a thump on the back. They had been the best of companions throughout their many lives together. Each had been pharaohs in their own right during their original lives, but since then Ram had deferred to Jackson, letting him take on the role of leader for their people. But Jackson could never have done it without Ram. He and Docia managed all of the little things in the household, leaving Jackson to deal with the heavier problems.

  Like an imp god let loose on the world.

  “All right, I’m going to make this short and sweet,” Jackson said. “We have to work together from beginning to end. We’ve been practicing for months now. We can do it with our eyes closed. But…some of us aren’t going to make it out of this, and we’re going to see friends fall. Just remember you can’t let it distract you. Keep your eye on your goal. Keep the Templars off Kamen so he can cast his circle and support us in any way you can. Once we get Apep in that circle…if it works…it still won’t be over until every last Templar is either dead or dealt with.”

  “And what about the ones who want a way out?” Mena asked anxiously. “Do they deserve to die just because they are fighting with no choice?”

  “Oh, they’ll be given a choice,” Jackson said. “I promise you that.”

  “So…don’t get killed…don’t let anyone else get killed…and keep away from the killer god. Everyone got that?” Ram said.

  They all nodded.

  “Good. We’ll leave as soon as Docia is ready to cast the mass teleportation spell. I’m going to go to the other houses and give them the same speech. Ram, are you with me or Docia right now?” Jackson asked.

  “I’m going to stick with Docia, help her any way I can.”

  “Good. Docia, how long do you need?”

  “Let’s make it an hour from now. We’ll meet on the front lawn. All of us.”

  “All right. Everyone good with that?”

  They all nodded.

  “Good,” Jackson said. Then he got up to leave, ready to head for the other houses to make the same speech.

  “Jackson, I need to talk to you,” Kat said, moving out of Ahnvil’s grasp and heading for him.

  “Kat!” Ahnvil warned.

  “No!” she snapped at him. Then she softened. “Please. Don’t let the last thing we do before this be an argument.”

  He subsided immediately. And, though he didn’t like it, he allowed her to go to Jackson.

  Kat told Jackson about the Adoma’s Amulet prophecy and gave him her take on it as they walked toward the house where the First Faction of Nightwalkers lived.

  “And you think you can do that? Paralyze him?”

  “Maybe. For a little while. I’m not sure. But I figure it’s worth a shot right?”

  “Right. The question is when to do it. Grey is going to bind him into the circle and that will take all of his energy and focus. But you…maybe we could use you right before Felix touches Apep. To hold him in place for the touch. Otherwise it’s going to be very chaotic. You could make things much easier on us if you are able to do that.”

  “I can certainly try,” she said.

  “But she’s a novice,” Ahnvil blurted out in spite of himself. “You could just be drawing Apep’s attention to her.”

  “Maybe. But we’re all taking that risk,” Jackson said.

  This was what it meant to be a leader to these people, he thought. The ability to make the hard choices when no outcome seemed to be a good outcome. He knew he was sending people to their potential deaths. He did not welcome the thought or the responsibility. But someone had to do it.

  “Kat, practice that paralyzing spell on one of the more powerful Nightwalkers. Noah, perhaps. Come with me and we can ask him for his help.”

  Ahnvil did not say another word as they walked, but Jackson could feel a world of anger, worry, and pain radiating off him. Jackson was sorry to put Ahnvil in such a position, but they were going to need everyone’s help in this. No role would be too small although some would be greater than others.

  When they reached the second house, Noah was addressing the household much in the way Jackson had just done. The room turned as one when he entered.

  “Ah, Jackson,” Noah said, reaching to shake his hand. “I was just about to send someone to get you. After all, you’re the one with the experience dealing with the Templars. Any advice for the troops?”

  “The Curse of Ra is their weapon of choice. If the priest wielding it is powerful enough, it can kill. When it hits, it hits hard.”

  “We were practicing against it with Tameri. I mean Docia.” Adam smiled grimly. “Sorry. Still getting used to this whole two souls one body thing. Don’t know what to call you half the time.”

  “She prefers Docia. I prefer Jackson. It doesn’t matter. I answer to Menes as well. Are there any questions I can help you with?”

  “Other than the Curse of Ra, what else can we expect?” Adam asked.

  “Some paralyzing spells. Some elemental spells. Those are their go-to spells.”

  “Jasmine, maybe you ought to sit this one out,” Adam said worriedly.

  “Oh, I know you did not just say that,” she said with rising indignation.

  “Babe, it’s just that with your—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” Jasmine said quickly and harshly. “I’m going. End of story.”

  Adam knew when to argue with his wife and when not to. If he fought with her on this she would just dig her heels in harder. He let it go and prayed for a miracle. Prayed she wouldn’t get hurt. Prayed to Destiny that their child was meant to be.

  Jackson fielded a few more questions, then told everyone to meet out on the front lawn of the main house by the end of the hour.

 
Jackson wrapped up the meeting by going to Sagan.

  “The Curse of Ra is a light spell. One hit and you’re literally toast. You might want to—”

  “No. I’m going. Valera can protect me from light. We’ll work in tandem. As long as she is conscious and focused, I’m good to go. I’ve beat worse odds in worse situations.”

  “Worse than this?” Jackson said skeptically.

  “Well, not worse than this. But pretty close.” He exchanged knowing glances with Valera.

  “All right, if you insist. I can see I can’t talk you out of it.”

  Sagan shook his head.

  “Well, I’ll see you on the front lawn then.”

  Jackson left the house and went walking toward the third house on the property where he would do it all again. By the time he was done it was almost time to meet on the front lawn. He had just enough time to find Marissa and pull her into a hard, fiery embrace. He kissed her so deeply her toes curled. She clung to him, her hands trying to hold him closer…forever…but she knew she had to let him go and that he might not make it back.

  “Come back to me or I’ll kill you,” she said illogically.

  “If I don’t see you again in this life, know that I’ll be waiting for you in the next one. Only…you have to promise me something.”

  “What?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

  “You won’t go the route I took last time. You’ll be brave and lead our people for the next hundred years until I come back. Someone is going to need to lead them if I’m gone and it has to be you.”

  The route he took last time. He had lost her so quickly after finding her again that it had devastated him to the point where he had taken his own life. They were soul mates and it was so hard for one of them to live without the other.

  “But I can’t—”

  “You can. We’ll have a divided people trying to come together and they need a strong leader for that.”

  She nodded and now her tears were tracking down her face. She knew how hard this was for him. She could feel his emotions as if they were her own. He wanted to be selfish, to tell her to come and be with him in the Ether rather than stay here where she would be without him. But they would be disembodied souls in the Ether and though their souls could occasionally touch, it was not the same as when they were physically present with one another.

  “I will stay and I will wait for you. A hundred years or a thousand, I will wait for you.”

  Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. It would be a hard separation, but they had been through it before. But maybe now, after this was over, if he survived…maybe they would be able to finally live in peace, without the Templar threat hanging constantly over their heads.

  He kissed her again, then moved away from her. Her hands clung to him for as long as they could, then fell away. She lifted her chin and followed him out onto the front lawn.

  Docia was there, sitting in the middle of a drawn circle with the five points of a pentacle transecting into it. She had a variety of herbs strewn about in a way that would only make sense to a magic-user. Ram was standing just outside the circle watching her with a stern look on his face. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like what this promised to do to her. But they had no choice.

  “They’re in California,” she said, “if Kamen’s location spell is accurate.”

  “It’s accurate,” he said, sounding slightly affronted.

  “Everyone should think about how you’re going to get back. Some of you are going to have to take conventional means. Kamen can’t bring all of you back.”

  “We’ll have Mind Demons as well. They can teleport pretty easily,” Noah said. “I’ll have some standing by.”

  “All right then. I’m ready. Everyone, get as close together as possible. I mean a huge press of human flesh,” Docia said.

  They did as instructed, a little over a hundred bodies pressing into each other.

  “Good luck,” Docia said.

  Then she began to cast her spell. It was a highly physical spell, her body twisting and folding and gyrating as she put every last ounce of energy into it. She could feel it draining her, but no one was going anywhere. They were still there. She was starting to panic when a sudden explosion of power burst out of her and everyone on the field disappeared.

  She collapsed, her whole body going numb and weak. No, not weak…paralyzed. She couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t even feel Ram’s touch on her as he lifted her into his arms. It was a good thing he was as strong as he was, because he was lifting dead weight. She couldn’t even hold up her head.

  “It’s all right,” he said, holding her against his chest. “I’ve got you.”

  She tried to say something, but she couldn’t speak. Her mouth wouldn’t form the words, her throat wouldn’t work. Panic infused her. She was a prisoner in her own body. What if this never went away? What if this were permanent?

  “I’ve got you. You’ll be all right,” he said soothingly as he carried her into the house and to their bedroom.

  He laid her down on the bed and, after a few minutes, the feeling began to return to her extremities.

  She and Ram sighed with relief, but it was a measured relief. Their worries were now with the others.

  Chapter 24

  The group appeared not in one place, but in several places, all within sight of each other. They got their bearings as quickly as possible, not knowing if they were going to find themselves dead center of Apep central or not.

  They were in a vast field of grapevines. A winery, it appeared. There were many large buildings within easy sight of them and they knew this was where they would find Apep and the Templars. Jasmine took to the air, reconnoitering from above. Adam turned to mist and followed her closely. Noah turned to smoke and followed suit. There were others who could take to the air and they did, but most were left to run up the hillside toward the winery buildings. There were several houses on the property and a barbed wire fence had been erected around them. The Phoenixes burned through them in a heartbeat, leaving smoldering, molten edges in their wake.

  “The main house,” Kamen said. “I can sense his extraordinary power. But don’t ignore the other houses. They too are filled with beings of power.”

  “How many would you say?” Jackson asked.

  “We’re outnumbered,” Kamen said grimly.

  “By how much?”

  “I’d say two to one at least.”

  So everyone would have to do more than their share and they would have to do it quickly.

  The Templars spotted them right about then, and an alarm raised up all along the property. Templars began to spill out of the buildings and the Curse of Ra began to burst out of them. The way they poured out of the house as a single entity, it was almost as though they were unsurprised to see them. As though they had been prepared for the attack.

  The first bolt hit Jackson, who was leading the charge. It took him down, but only for a minute. It would take a much more powerful caster to bring down a man of Jackson’s power.

  Jackson retaliated by grabbing anything loose on the ground and using his power to fling it into the Templars from every direction. A pile of unused metal rods from unfinished fencing became a series of javelins, spearing through Templar bodies, maiming them but not killing them. He would avoid death wherever he could, but no fatalities was an unrealistic expectation. He knew that. He would give these people the chance to change loyalties…whether it be in this lifetime or the next. He didn’t know how…but he would do it.

  Sagan, protected from the Curse, drew his kukuri blade in one hand and the katana in the other. He too would only maim those who crossed his path. It was dangerous because even an injured Templar could still cast using magic, could potentially heal themselves and rejoin the battle. But Kamen had assured him that that would take monumental effort and no one could heal themselves in that amount of time in the thick of the battle. Also, Kamen said that mere pain would be enough to disrupt the abilities of the Templars. So, he began
to cut down Templars, the muscles on his arms and back playing hard as he swung through bone and sinew, reaching low to bisect an Achilles tendon, crippling the victim, or reaching high to sever a limb completely. Maimed but not dead, and creating enough pain and debilitation to take them out of the fight.

  Ahnvil turned to his grotesque state, the stone visage that most looked like a hideous Gargoyle, his wings sprouting forth as he took to the sky with the rest of the Gargoyles, leading the charge with a war cry. He kept close to Jackson’s side; taking hits from the Curse whenever possible, lessening the possibility of injury or death to his leader. His big body was designed for taking massive amounts of damage. He was not invincible, however he did not hesitate nor flinch in the face of the Curse of Ra.

  Viève did as promised. She hurried onto the property in search of someone to try her deathtouch out on. Her heart was thundering in her chest and she could feel Kamen protectively at her back. He used the Curse of Ra to beat back anyone who came near them. Only, with his power, his Curse did not simply stun. It killed. He sent Templar souls flying back into the Ether. Kamen had no problem doing so. He knew they would be reborn again in the next life.

  “Let me touch one!” Viève cried in frustration when he refused to allow anyone close to her.

  “Not until it is necessary!” he shouted back to her. He blasted away another Templar.

  “It’s necessary! Jackson wanted me to!”

  But he stubbornly refused to heed her.

  And that was when Apep arrived.

  He exploded out of the house, shards of wood and beams blowing out all around him as he took to the air. Wind whipped through his long hair and he cut quite a beautiful figure in the air, looking like a virago of hate and power.

  “You fools!” he cried. “You think you can attack me? You think your puny mortality can stop a god?”

  “And we can succeed!” Jackson shouted back at him.

  “You!” Apep said with disgust. “Didn’t I kill you once already?”

  “I’m not that easy to kill!” Jackson said.

  “We’ll see about that!”