Nightwalker

Nine

I awoke to find myself locked in a box. For a brief moment a wave of panic surged through my frame and I nearly screamed. I thrust my hands against the top, which sank against the cool, silk lining. With eyes closed and teeth clenched, I willed the wave of fear to subside. It had been a long time since I’d done the old coffin bit. Most of the time, I slept in a windowless room on a king-sized bed covered in silk sheets. I had forgotten about traveling to Luxor, about Danaus, and Nerian. By now we should be drawing close to Aswan, home to the Tombs of the Nobles, the island temple of Philae, and the doorway to the old Nubian kingdom and Jabari.

With my hands on my stomach, I relaxed the muscles in my arms, waiting for the calm to sink back into the marrow of my bones. If I was going to steer myself out of this mess without getting killed, I needed to be calm and thinking clearly. Resisting the urge to sigh, I reached over and flipped the interior locks to the coffin. I call it a coffin, but it was actually a large box made of a nearly indestructible, lightweight alloy. The interior had been lined with red silk cushions, not that it really mattered. When daylight hit, I could sleep just as comfortably on a bed of broken glass. There was a pair of locks on the interior, ensuring that no one could open it from the outside. It went with me whenever I traveled, and I kept a spare at my private residence.

Pushing open the lid on its silent hinges, I sat up, grateful to find that no one was about to see my “rising from the dead” act. The quaint little room with walls made of dark wood was empty. The box rested on a full-sized bed covered with a colorful hand-stitched quilt. The curtains on the small windows were pulled back, revealing dark skies. Beyond, I could hear an engine running and the lap of water. We were traveling down the Nile. A ball of excitement tightened in my stomach and I struggled to keep from biting my lower lip like a giddy schoolgirl. It had been centuries since I last saw the sand dunes of Egypt.

I was climbing out of my private resting spot when someone knocked on the door. A brief stretch of my powers revealed that it was Michael, right on time. “Come in.” He stepped into the room, wearing the same black shirt and pants from the previous night. His shoulder holster was missing, but I could feel Gabriel taking up his post at the door.

The young bodyguard was his usual handsome self, blond hair tossed by the wind. He already smelled of Egypt, with its exotic spices and history. His sharp blue eyes swept over the room as he cataloged his surroundings before settling back on me. He was good at his job, taking my protection very seriously. It was a nice feeling to have someone who wanted to see me rise every night. Sure, it was his job, but most of my own kind would rather shove a stake through my heart.

Prior to taking up the position as my bodyguard, Michael had briefly served in the Marines, accounting for most of his training. I didn’t know how he came to be recruited by Gabriel and I’d never asked. My guardian angel had his connections and I left it at that.

At first, guarding me was just been a job for Michael; a well-paying job, but still just a job. After a couple of years that changed. For him, I became a source of strength and intense pleasure. I also fulfilled his deep need to protect.

For me, he became both a comfort and a distraction when my thoughts grew too dark. There was still something strangely innocent in his eyes and an eagerness to please me that was endearing. He treated me as though there was something still human in me. To him, I was never a monster, no matter what he saw me do.

I extended my hand to him, needing the physical contact. “Is all well?”

He wrapped his long fingers around my hand as he walked over to me, his intense gaze never straying from my face. “Yes.”

The sound of the engine dulled and I concentrated on the steady throb of his heart. Its pace quickened the closer he came, causing his face to flush. “Was there any trouble in Luxor?”

“No, everything went as Ms. Godwin instructed. We have just come within sight of Aswan. The captain says we should dock in another fifteen minutes.”

When he stood only inches from me, I released his hand and slid my palms up his arms and across his shoulders. I had taken my boots off before dawn, putting me at a flat-footed five feet six inches at best; rather tall considering people six hundred years ago were much shorter but still roughly a foot shorter than my guardian angel.

His warm lips brushed against my temple in a gentle caress. “I missed you.” He lifted his hands and lightly placed them on the sides of my waist as if he was afraid he would break me with his touch.

“I guess I should travel more,” I whispered, threading my fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of his silky locks.

His lips moved down from my temple and along the line of my jaw. “We could meet outside of work.”

A low noise similar to a cat’s purr rumbled from the back of my throat, and I rose up on the tips of my toes so his soft lips could reach more of my flesh. I needed Michael. I needed his warmth and vitality. It reminded me of my own shredded humanity. It also fought back the darker urges that screamed for me to throw him to the ground and drain him dry.

“I think something can be arranged.” My lips brushed against his throat as I spoke, teasing me. So close. Less than an inch and my fangs would be embedded.

“Yes.” There was more air in the word than actual sound. His hands tightened on my waist. I could feel the trembling need in the muscles stretching up his arms. He was fighting the desire to crush me against his body, molding me to him. From past encounters, he knew I liked to prolong the moment when time allowed, basking in all the sensations flooding my mind.

“Lay on the bed,” I said, stepping back from him. Michael moved around me and pushed the box to the far side of the bed. He stretched out his long body and for a moment I stood at his side, admiring his peaceful expression. I had spent the first few centuries of my existence hunting down my prey, wrestling them to the ground, and it always felt a little strange when my meal came to me with arms open. Some of the rush spilled from the moment, but my thirst was already starting to make itself known, petty thoughts pushed to the back of my mind.

Crawling onto the bed, I straddled his narrow hips. I was beginning to see a distinct pattern when it came to the men in my life, but the position made feeding easier. It also allowed me the pleasure of pressing the full length of my body against his. I leaned forward with my forearms on each side of his head and pressed slow kisses against each eyelid, his nose, and along his left jaw. Beneath me, I felt him sigh as if the tension was unraveling from around his soul. I pressed a long, lingering kiss to his lips, carefully drawing his tongue in my mouth, enjoying the taste of him. His strong hands slipped under my shirt and slid up my bare back, pulling me more tightly against him. His body hardened beneath me and I suppressed my own frustrated sigh. There just wasn’t enough time for everything.

Pulling reluctantly away from his mouth, I slid my lips down his jaw to his throat. The tip of my tongue ran over the heavy pulse that throbbed there before I finally sank my fangs deep into his flesh. He stiffened against the sudden pain then relaxed again. Drawing the sweet blood into my body, I sent a warm, tingling wave of intense pleasure through his body. He moaned as it swept into his limbs. I drank deeply, pulling his life into my thin frame until I could taste his heartbeat, feel it vibrating down in my own chest.

His hands slid down over my rear, kneading my body, keeping me pressed against him. He moaned my name; his hips shifted and rose off the bed. Except for our clothes, he would have been inside of me. The thought sent a shudder through my taut body, and I twisted the blankets in my fists. The feeling of his warm blood filling my veins was already quite satisfying, but the desire to have all of him was coiling tighter in my body. I ground my hips against him, a pure animal growl rumbling in the back of my throat as I reveled in the hardness of his body.

Releasing my grip on the blanket, I slipped my left hand under his shirt, running it up along his ribs. My thumb grazed his nipple before heading back down to his flat stomach. His skin was so warm and enticing, an intoxicating combination of hard muscle and soft flesh.

My hand brushed against the button on his pants as my fingers skimmed along the soft flesh just below the edge of his underwear. His hips lifted again, pressing into me, his body demanding entrance. With every last ounce of self-control I had, I put my hand back beside his head, wrapping my fingers in the blanket. I wanted him so badly I could scream, but I wouldn’t be happy with a quickie. It had been too long and I wanted to linger over him. And Michael was worth the wait.

I lifted my mouth from his neck with great reluctance and nuzzled his ear for a moment. Focusing my powers on his neck, I closed the wound, leaving behind only a slight redness in the area. “We cannot, my angel. Not this time.” Leaning up on my forearms, I looked into his face. He watched me with wide, heartbroken eyes. “If sunset had come but an hour sooner I would happily linger over you, but time will not allow.” I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, drawing in the last bit of his blood, and he sighed, moving his hands up the back of my thighs, keeping me pressed against him.

I laughed and shook my head as I got off the bed. “But you are a temptation,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt.

“Not enough of one,” he said with a little bit of a pout. He watched as I stripped down and walked over to my bag of clothes, which lay at the foot of the bed.

“Sorry, but this is not a pleasure trip. There are serious matters I must handle.”

His eyes greedily followed me as I pulled on a pair of red silk panties, then a black cotton skirt that fell to my ankles. Then came a red lace bra and a black button-up shirt with short sleeves. Michael sat up, resting his back against the headboard when I sat on the edge of the bed next to his hip. He was a little paler than he had been when he came in. I never took so much blood that his life was in danger or that he couldn’t fight, just enough to take the edge off of my hunger. With any luck, I would begin the return trip home tonight and hunt again in my own domain tomorrow night.

“Are you sure you don’t want Gabriel and me to accompany you?” he asked as I drew on a pair of socks.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

That was a lie. I was anxious and confused, but telling him my fears wouldn’t have made him feel any better. His job was to protect me when I could not protect myself, which was only during the daylight hours. Michael and Gabriel protected me against humans only. They were no match for any of the other dark creatures that lurked in the night. How could they hope to protect me against Danaus or the naturi?

I shoved my feet into a pair of black boots with a low chunk heel that laced up to nearly my knees. These were built a little better for the terrain than my usual high-heeled leather boots. I ran my hand through my tousled hair, wishing I had time and access to a quick shower.

“But he will be going with you,” Michael said. There was something sharp and bitter in his tone that startled me, breaking my mind free of the last lingering tendrils of desire that had clouded my thoughts.

Turning my gaze back to his handsome face, I was surprised to find lines of anger and jealousy furrowing his brow. “I do as I please,” I quietly reminded him.

“I’m sorry, Mira,” he said, hesitantly touching my shoulder. A look of fear flashed through his pale blue eyes. We both knew this budding relationship was a strained and uneasy thing as we sought out each other’s boundaries. “I didn’t mean anything.”

I sighed, placing my hand against his cheek. He relaxed instantly and pressed a kiss to my palm. “I know. Danaus is part of the matter that I must take care of. Rest for a while. I am going up to the deck. I will meet you and Gabriel at the hotel before dawn.”

Walking up to the main deck, I ran my hand across Gabriel’s shoulder as I passed him. He followed me at a discreet distance, hanging back toward the shadows as I strolled over to the railing of the barge. The dark night sky was filled with glittering stars. It had been a while since I’d seen so many stars, but they were quickly being overwhelmed by the growing brightness of Aswan. When I had last appeared in the town, it was only a scattering of huts, low buildings, and a single wooden dock. While it was nowhere near the size of Cairo or Alexandria, it was swelling in its own right. The tourists were starting to grow weary of the pyramids and were traveling farther down the Nile to see the mysteries of Philae and the beauty of Abu Simbel.

The wind played with my hair, tossing it about my back. I closed my eyes and slowly reached out with my senses. It was like running my hands over the people in the city, gently touching each mind for less than a heartbeat then moving on. I let my senses reach out as far as the Tombs of the Nobles and down through Abu Simbel before pulling my powers back into my body. I could not feel Jabari, though I’m not sure if I was expecting to find him.

The battle at Machu Picchu five centuries ago had not gone well, despite the fact that we were the victors. Two weeks earlier I’d been kidnapped from Sadira’s care in Spain and taken to the Incan city in the sky. Surrounded by members of the naturi light clan at all times, Nerian tortured me by moonlight while all-too-sweet voices promised that the pain would stop if I only promised to protect them from the evil vampires. If not for my constant thirst for blood, I would even have forgotten, under the weight of the unrelenting pain, that I was a vampire. For two weeks there was only pain and hunger.

And then Jabari arrived. The rest of the triad was with him, as well as a great nightwalker army, yet looking back, I recalled only him. His white robes seemed to glow in the firelight, his dark skin almost as black as the night itself. He had saved me and fought the naturi. But still, only the triad and a handful of others escaped that wretched mountain, while some of the naturi disappeared into the surrounding jungle.

While Jabari hunted the naturi, he left me a wounded Nerian to finish. I broke his legs and slashed his stomach open, but dawn was coming. I was out of time. I left Nerian to die while I ran from the mountain. In the jungle, I buried myself deep into the earth to escape the sun’s rays, confident that Nerian had died on the mountaintop.

The next night, Jabari returned for me. Held tightly in his strong arms, he carried me off to the safety of his home in Egypt. I remained with the Ancient for one century. He helped to keep the nightmares at bay during both the night and the day, when I should have been able to escape my battered psyche.

Jabari gave me something I had managed to find only briefly during my human years and never as a vampire: a home. Within his domain, I was always welcome. I was viewed as a beloved child, a talented protégé to be taught and encouraged. Sadira had taught me to read, to play instruments, and even various languages. But with Jabari, I gained true knowledge. He taught me the history of our kind, of the naturi and the bori, and the war that consumed all of the races before the bori and naturi were finally exiled.

While I was with Jabari, he encouraged me to explore my ability to manipulate fire. For the Ancient, it wasn’t about being a weapon, but honing a skill, becoming better at something. Under his guidance, I took back control of my life, no longer a pawn for Sadira or the naturi.

Opening my eyes, I frowned, a chill encasing my lungs. There were no other nightwalkers within the area. Egypt had always been sporadically populated with my kind because of Jabari’s presence. No one wanted to risk catching the attention of an Elder. Yet, it had been a long time since I walked into a region that didn’t have several nightwalkers lurking in the shadows. I might not seek out another nightwalker, but there was something comforting in knowing that he or she was there. That I wasn’t completely alone in the darkness.

I turned my head, catching sight of Danaus out of the corner of my eye. He had approached while my focus was on the city and surrounding area. The leather duster was gone, but he still wore his black cotton pants and black sleeveless T-shirt. There were several knives strapped to his waist, wrists, and thigh. He was prepared for battle.

“I see you’ve fed,” he said as he stepped closer to the railing. I resisted the urge to run my finger over my lips. I generally wasn’t a messy eater. “You’re…pink,” he continued, filling in the silence. The word stumbled and tripped from his throat as if he struggled for an appropriate description.

Throwing my head back, I laughed, the sound drawing the attention of several deckhands. I always looked a bit flushed after a good meal, my skin taking on a pinker, more lifelike color for a few hours, but I hadn’t expected him to notice. He wasn’t looking particularly happy with me; not that he ever was, but his glare seemed more censuring than usual.

Leaning back, my elbows rested lightly on the rails. “Have you eaten?” He nodded, his gaze directed at the dock as we pulled in. “I bet something died for your meal.”

His narrowed eyes jerked to my face. “It’s not the same.” His jaw was clenched and his lips pressed into a hard, thin line. Hot, angry power bubbled within him, pulsing against me in waves that would have rivaled the midday sun that baked the Egyptian landscape. “Why not?” I turned and walked toward the bow, my eyes on Aswan. I didn’t expect an answer or want one. There shouldn’t be a difference. I didn’t care what he thought. We both did what we had to in order to survive; it was as simple as that.

It wasn’t long afterward that we docked at Aswan, our little boat skirting several larger cruise ships to settle at a less crowded berth. I jumped down to the wooden dock, not looking back to see if Danaus had followed. But I could feel him a few steps behind me, his anger simmering. I was irritated with him. At least, I think he was bothering me. It could have been that I was forced to cut short my time with Michael, or that I didn’t know where the hell Jabari was. It could have even been the fact that the naturi were once again threatening and I didn’t want to face them. It could have been any or all of these things, but right now Danaus was an easy target.

I paused on the Corniche el-Nil for a moment, gazing up and down the road as I tried to get my bearings. The road ran north-south along Aswan closest to the Nile, housing a variety of travel agencies, which in turn managed the various motor launches and feluccas that ferried tourists to the islands that dotted this stretch of the Nile. We had landed farther south in Aswan than I’d anticipated. Directly in front of me was the Nile and Elephantine Island, and beyond that, Kitchener’s Island, with its exotic botanic gardens. One block over behind me, the rich sounds of the souq could be heard. Vendors would be at their trade for another few hours, hawking their wares to anyone who passed close enough to be considered a potential customer. Vibrant Nubian music filled the air, played on pear-shaped guitars called ouds and shallow douff drums. The sun had set, but the city was just coming alive as people finally escaped the oppressive heat of the day.

During my stay with Jabari, we had passed most of our time farther north, in Thebes and occasionally in Alexandria. Because I needed to feed more frequently than he did, the Ancient thoughtfully lingered near populous areas, though I suspected he would have preferred to move to a more remote, secluded location. On two occasions we took trips up the Nile to Aswan, where we stayed within the local Nubian villages; Jabari’s true home.

Just prior to moving to the New World, I encountered Jabari in Venice during one of my infrequent visits to the Coven. He spoke of moving south to Aswan to oversee the construction of the first Aswan dam. It would flood the areas that had once been the heart of the Nubian empire. While I never had a chance to ask him decades later, I was confident that the Ancient Nubian had also overseen the construction of the High Dam and the careful moving of Abu Simbel and Philae to a safer, drier location.

Walking north along Corniche el-Nil, I weaved my way through the crowds as they stepped off their feluccas and headed back toward their hotels, with Danaus following like a dark rain cloud. The people barely looked up at me as I passed by. The city had a feeling about it that whispered of darker things than me. Jabari had spent his entire existence in this part of the world. He had ventured elsewhere, seen the green lands of South America and the cold tundra of Russia, but he always came back to his beloved Egypt. I think the people of Aswan could feel him when he was there. They never understood what it was they were feeling, though; perhaps assumed it was one of the old gods lingering in the temples or a pharaoh’s ghost.

I wondered if they felt his absence. The people hurried down the streets with their heads down, careful not to make eye contact. The Middle East had always been rife with civil unrest, but now there was an edge to the people that I couldn’t understand. Maybe they knew their god was missing.

After a few blocks I finally found what I was searching for. Unfortunately, the ferry to the West Bank was closed for the night. Aswan lay on the East Bank, overflowing with rich vegetation, hotels, and shops. The West Bank was mostly desert, with only a few monuments visited by tourists throughout the day. However, all those monuments closed by 5:00 P.M., so there was no reason for the ferry to remain open past that hour.

Shoving my hand through my hair, I turned where I stood, gazing up and down Corniche for an open felucca. It was only a guess, but I truly doubted that Jabari would have settled near the busy heart of Aswan. There were two types of nightwalkers: those that ran from their past, such as myself, and those that still embraced their human history, like Jabari. I knew where he would have gone. I just had to get there.

A smile lifted my lips as my eyes fell on a young man with skin like rich coffee as he was tying up his small felucca. It couldn’t have held more than six people, smaller than most used by tourists, but he could have easily advertised it as a more private excursion.

I bargained for the price of a quick jaunt across the Nile to the landing for the Tombs of the Nobles. He was polite enough to at least ask if I was aware of the fact that the Tombs were closed, but he didn’t push the matter. What did he care? He would get paid whether I was turned away at the entrance or not.

Danaus and I boarded the small boat and the captain pushed off from the dock and immediately unfurled the white sail. Between the brisk wind and the swift flow of the Nile, we were able to cross to the West Bank in only a few minutes. Something in me wished for more time, though. I would have liked to head farther up river to see the Temple of Philae in her new home, bathed in the glow of golden floodlights. Or even gone down river to Edfu and the Temple of Horus. While a Roman replica of ancient Egyptian architecture, the temple still outdated my lengthy existence and was magnificent to see. But for now, I sat in a tiny boat with a vampire hunter while I searched for an Ancient vampire that might or might not be dead.