Eleven

The moon hung pale and swollen overhead in the night sky. Clouds crept over the stars, blotting out their glittering light and holding in the oppressive heat of summer. I stood in the main square, the low gray-white stone walls circling about me like the sun-bleached bones of an extinct monster. Farther away the mountains rose up, great monoliths of stone and earth that had survived dynasties and would still be prodding the sky when my body had turned to dust. The air smelled thick with vegetation, and the faint tang of blood was carried by the wind. I followed that wonderful scent up the stairs, passing through an arch into another temple.

I paused, my heart lurching in my chest. A woman lay stretched out across a low, large gray stone. Her head was tilted back so her long black hair flowed from the stone and brushed the ground. Her brown eyes were wide, trapping me in their liquid gaze. Standing over her was a man clutching a knife in one hand. I hadn’t made a sound, but he knew I was there. He looked up at me and I saw Nerian smile.

I tried to take a step backward, but hands grabbed my arms, forcing me to stay where I was. Struggling, I attempted to look around me at the people holding my arms, but I couldn’t see them. Footsteps echoed through the silence of the night, rising off the stones; more were coming to hold me. I looked back up and Nerian was walking toward me, dagger still in hand. I jerked and twisted, fighting my captors, but I couldn’t escape. Cold sweat slithered across my skin. Panic was throbbing in my chest faster than my own heartbeat.

Beyond, I could hear the woman repeating, “You betrayed me,” in a soft voice that held an accent long dead from the earth. I pushed backward against my captors, digging my heels into the stones, trying to catch on the small crevices between the bricks, but I couldn’t gain any leverage. I pushed, but I couldn’t move. Nerian kept coming. His white teeth gleamed in the darkness.

I screamed and jerked but could find no release. He stopped inches from me, his laughter cutting into my skin like little razors. If I looked down, I would find that I was bleeding. He was supposed to be dead. I knew I had killed him. I had incinerated his corpse, leaving behind only a small pile of white ash in Danaus’s basement. But he stood before me now, smiling. I could feel the heat of his body, smell his woodsy scent. He pulled back his arm, his laughter rising, growing almost frantic in its pitch. As the dagger plunged into my stomach, my eyes opened and I screamed again.

The sound filled the box, but I couldn’t stop. I kept screaming, my hands clawing at the red silk lining the top of the box until it was shredded. I screamed until I choked on a sob lodged in my throat.

With my fingers clenched around the torn silk above my head, I lay still in my protective little box. The muscles in my arms were painfully tensed and my jaw was starting to throb. I was gritting my teeth, trying to keep from screaming again. Bloody tears streaked down the sides of my face. I swallowed a second sob and forced myself to relax. It was just a nightmare. Nerian was dead and I was safe.

Releasing my death grip on the silk ceiling, I roughly wiped the tears from my face with the heels of my palms. It had all felt so real. I could remember smells and the feel of their hands biting into my flesh. Worst of all, I could remember the beating of my heart. I laid my trembling right hand on my chest, pressing against my sternum, but felt nothing. Things like breathing and a heartbeat were tricks, illusions used by vampires to give the appearance of life. But things like that took power and energy, so we rarely bothered with it unless we were trying to fool humans. I never resorted to such tricks, but lying there now, I wondered if my heart had been beating while I dreamed.

I had not had a nightmare about Machu Picchu in a very long time. They once nearly drove me mad, but Jabari helped me, protected and guided me from my nightmare. After I’d left Egypt centuries ago I thought I also left his protection, but now I feared that I had been wrong. Maybe he helped me during my daylight sleep during all these years, and now that we’d parted ways, he had lifted his protection. Did I now face an eternity of waking with a scream on my lips?

Or worse, had Jabari sent the dream? Would he torture me until I was finally broken and came crawling back to him? I closed my eyes and folded my shaking hands over my stomach. I forced my thoughts away from the rising panic. The nightmare could be nothing more than what it was: a nightmare. I was upset about Jabari and the naturi; both had invaded my rest.

I lay there, fatigue creeping into my frame. Nightwalkers generally didn’t dream during the daylight hours. We had no memories of those hours when the sun hovered above the earth. It was dangerous for me to dream. It used up energy that I was supposed to be conserving for the night, for the hunt.

It wasn’t impossible for nightwalkers to dream, but it was extremely rare. As far as I knew, it only happened to those of us known to as First Bloods. They were rare simply because most nightwalkers couldn’t be bothered with spending several nights to several years carefully working a spell to bring over a human. First Bloods rose stronger and more powerful than our more common brethren, those lovingly referred to as “chum.” While crass and insulting, the nickname fit. Chum was quickly made and little more than bait for a true predator.

As my thoughts calmed, drifting away from the nightmare, a deeper sense of foreboding seeped into my bones. Hesitantly, I stretched out my senses, but I didn’t have to go far. Michael was leaning against the box and he was hurt. Someone else was in the room. I unlocked the box and threw back the lid, sitting up. My eyes easily located Michael, who was sitting on the floor near my feet, clutching his right arm to his chest.

Jumping to my feet, I turned to find another man, standing near the wall, a gun in one hand. My muscles tensed at the sight of Omari and I bit back a low growl. The dark-haired, dark-skinned man who served Jabari lowered the gun to his side but didn’t put it in his shoulder holster.

“He came to protect you,” Michael said in a rough voice before I could lunge at the human. I hadn’t told him about what occurred with Jabari, but I had no doubt that my astute assistant could easily read my tense posture.

“What happened?” I said, pivoting slowly on a heel as I gazed about the room. We had been lucky enough to secure a corner suite at the Sarah Hotel on the southern edge of the city. I took a couple steps forward, glass crackling under my feet. The pretty little room had been turned into a war zone. Furniture was broken, pictures pulled or knocked off the wall, and curtains torn. There was also a splatter of blood against one white wall, while the others were peppered with bullet holes. The hotel was located on a clifftop overlooking the city. With any luck, the distance had helped insulate us from drawing the attention of other city dwellers. However, I knew that both the hotel owner and the police had to be taken care of financially before we left the city.

“Four men attacked a few hours before sunset. They were well-trained hunters,” Michael said. He reached a hand over and closed the lid of my coffin. In the center was a deep dent, as if someone had taken an axe to it. I gritted my teeth as I stared at it. The dent was over where my heart would have been.

“I arrived shortly after them,” Omari stated, his words rolling to me like a low rumble of thunder.

My narrowed gaze snapped to his tense frame. “How did you know?”

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain, white button-up shirt, he had the polished look of an executive on holiday. Of course, the splatter of blood on his shirt and the tear in his jeans near his right calf destroyed the effect.

“Jabari doesn’t trust the one called Danaus. He sent me to watch over you, and Jamila was to follow Danaus if he left the hotel during the day,” Omari said, finally holstering his gun under his left arm.

“Where is the hunter?” The muscles in my shoulders tightened into a hard knot. Danaus had not been there when I was attacked.

“He left the hotel about an hour before the attackers arrived,” Michael said. “He hasn’t returned yet.”

I stared down at my protector, relieved that the scent of his blood wasn’t clouding my mind. After reaching the five-century mark, I discovered that I could go several days without needing to feed. With the meal Michael had provided for me the previous night, I was still feeling quite sated.

“Where is Gabriel?” I demanded, suddenly realizing his dark form was missing from my chambers.

A frown pulled at the corners of Michael’s full lips. “He’s following the men to find out who they are and where they have hidden themselves. I haven’t heard back yet.” He was worried, and I couldn’t blame him. Gabriel was good at what he did, but four against one was a little much even for him. I gazed out the window, taking in the murky gray sky. I was awake earlier than usual. Quickly, I mentally searched the city for Gabriel.

“He’s safe.” My voice sounded as if it had crossed a vast distance before reaching my ears. “He’s returning to the hotel.” I reached out a little farther and discovered Danaus was several blocks away toward the northeast but had not yet begun moving toward the hotel.

“If I’m not needed, I’ll return to my lord,” Omari said, drawing my gaze back to his face.

“Is Jabari near?”

“Yes, he keeps a residence within Koti.”

I nodded, recognizing the name of one of the Nubian villages on Elephantine Island. “Will you take Michael with you; tend his wounds?”

Omari stared at my bodyguard then looked up at me before briefly bowing his head. “Yes, I will take him with me.”

I pressed my lips into a firm line as I looked back over at my angel. “Take Gabriel with you. I will come to Jabari after I deal with the hunter.”

“Are you sure you will not need us?” Michael said, wincing as he pushed to his feet. He was hurt, but Omari and Jamila would see that he was properly stitched up. I needed to travel fast and I did not want them in my way when I faced Danaus.

“I’ll manage,” I said, failing to keep my fangs from peeking out when I spoke. “Go now.”

I walked over to the small balcony that looked down on the city and the Nile. Nearby was the first cataract with the outcropping of stone that had once caused a series of rapids in the Nile. With the addition of the High Dam in the seventies, the rapids had been largely tamed. I waited until I sensed Gabriel meeting Michael and Omari in the lobby before putting one hand on the balcony railing and vaulting smoothly over it. Before I hit the ground four stories below, both my invisibility and cloaking spells were in place. I could not be seen by humans nor sensed by other magic using creatures. I didn’t know what Danaus was capable of, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He had been conveniently gone while someone attacked me while I slept and endangered the lives of my angels. I struggled to believe that he might have been kidnapped while this all occurred, or that it was coincidence that he just happened to be away from the hotel at that moment.

Cutting down the road that led back into the city proper, I ran toward the north, slowly working my way east. I slowed my gait every few blocks to check Danaus’s location, but he hadn’t moved yet. The city streets were still crowded with a mix of locals and tourists, enjoying the cooling temperatures now that the sun had set. After less than a mile, the tall white buildings and shorter tan square homes gave way to a vast expanse that looked like the ancient ruins of a forgotten city. It was Fatimid Cemetery. The old Muslim burial ground was filled with small, square mausoleums with domed tops and arched entries. However, the sun, wind, and sand that had ravaged the country over the long centuries took its toll on the monuments here. Names and inscriptions chiseled in the stones were worn away. Stone paths into the cemetery were broken and mostly covered by sand and dirt.

The sounds of the city died off here, falling to a soft hum of noise. Pausing at the entrance, I reached up and brushed some hair from my eyes. The wind had picked up, carrying with it the smell of the Nile. It wasn’t all that pleasant a smell, but it carried good memories with it. Some nights Jabari and I would follow the winding river north, walking along as close to the banks as possible. He would tell me tales of when Thebes was the capital city of the Egyptian Empire and how he designed great monuments for the pharaoh.

Danaus was on the move finally. He had been with a group of three humans. I sensed him headed in my direction, with the other humans headed northwest, back toward the city and the river. With a smile, I silently darted over to the shadows of a large mausoleum. After I dealt with Danaus, I would go after the humans.

Leaning one shoulder against the smooth white stone wall, it surprised me that I was amazingly calm. I knew I was going to kill Danaus. I was going to put my hand into his chest and pull out his heart. It was all quite simple. It might not be his style to stake vampires during the daylight hours, but he apparently had no problems sending in others to do the job. None of it made any sense, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t there when I was attacked. That was damning enough for me.

Barely five minutes passed before Danaus finally walked past me. “Where were you?” I said, dropping the cloaking spell at the same time. I tapped down the urge to sink my teeth into his throat as I watched him skillfully spin around to face me while pulling a dagger from a sheath at his side.

“Out,” he snapped. He straightened his stance when he realized it was only me, and put the knife back in his sheath. That was a mistake, I mused.

“Where were you?” I repeated, pausing between each word. I was still lounging against the side of the mausoleum.

He stood only a few feet away, his feet wide apart and his hands hanging at his sides. Despite the fact that he’d put away his knife, tension ran through his frame; alert and ready. “Seeing the city.”

“While you were conveniently gone, attackers appeared.” I pushed off the building and stepped away from it into the open. Danaus took two steps to the right, maintaining a comfortable distance between us. “Four hunters, well trained. Just…like…you. Did you send them?”

“No.”

“Did you know they were coming?”

“No.”

I launched my body into his, and we crashed into the side of another worn mausoleum with a heavy thud. “Lies,” I snarled, my fangs bared. I might not be hungry, but I would happily drain him before ripping his heart from his chest.

Danaus pushed me away and drew his knife again, narrowing his eyes at me. We had danced this before, but now there were no more games.

“I didn’t know they would come.”

“But you know who they are, don’t you?” Kicking out with my left foot, I clipped his hand, but he held tight to his knife. I wished I had changed from the previous night. While the skirt was slit on both sides up to the knee and provided ample ease of movement, I never liked fighting in a skirt. “You know them because you’re one of them. They knew how to find me because you told them.”

“I didn’t know they would attack.” He edged away from the wall so he had more room to maneuver, but it wasn’t easy. The ground was uneven, filled with graves and large cover stones, not to mention random chunks of rock broken off from other monuments.

“You sold me out!”

I grabbed him. His knife sliced my upper right arm, but it didn’t stop me from throwing him into the wall. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and I was there before he could suck in the next breath. My hand locked around his throat, pressing into his esophagus. He struck at me with his knife again, but I caught his wrist. With few options left open, he kicked at me. The force pushed me backward, but I used the momentum of my falling body to pull him with me to the ground. Danaus landed on his side next to me.

Frustrated, I released my hold on his throat. I needed a better approach. Rolling back to my feet before he could, I kicked him below the chin, snapping his head back as he got to his knees.

“I defended you from Jabari!” Circling him, I could barely hear the crunch of rock and sand under my feet over the pounding fury in my head. “I defended you and now I have lost him forever.” Stopping in front of him, I grabbed his shirt in both hands. I pulled him to his feet so he was staring me in the eye. “My life is forfeit because of you. My domain is lost, because of you.”

“I didn’t send them,” he repeated, his eyes narrow, glittering slits. “Why would I send someone else when I’m looking forward to cutting your heart out?”

I tensed the muscles in my arms, preparing to slam him into a nearby pile of jagged rocks, when something shot through the slim distance separating our faces. I jerked my head backward, my eyes widening. We both looked at the mausoleum wall beside us to find a small arrow shivering in the tan brick wall. A bolt from a naturi wrist crossbow.

Danaus reacted before I could, throwing his body into mine. We landed in a heap on the ground behind the tall sides of a grave cover stone. He lay on top of me as I heard three more arrows ping against the stone and bounce off. The naturi had found us. I loosened my grip on his shirt and slid out from beneath him, trying to edge around the side of the grave enough so I could see around the cemetery.

“How many are there?” I demanded, as another arrow whizzed over the top of the grave. I lay flat on my back in the dirt, straining to hear any indications that they were close. I looked back at Danaus, who was regarding me with a confused expression. “In case you haven’t caught on, I can’t sense them.”

“How has your kind survived so long?” he said with a slight shake of his head.

Glaring at him, I pulled back my lips enough to angrily expose my fangs. I was in no mood to exchange barbs when I had the damned naturi trying to kill me and I still had to kill him before the night was over.

The wind shifted and I caught a light smell of trees and water, the green smell of the rich earth after a rainstorm, all scents that had no business being in Egypt. They were close. I reached over and pulled a sword from a sheath on Danaus’s back. Facing a member of the naturi unarmed was never a wise choice.

“Seven,” Danaus said. “Four are in the cemetery, approaching fast, and three are on a rooftop outside the cemetery.”

I nodded. The three outside the graveyard were to keep us pinned down until the ones in the cemetery could reach us. I rolled to my knees at the same time I heard the ultrasoft footsteps of the approaching naturi. We had visitors.

Leaping to my feet, I raised the blade so it was in front of my heart. Two naturi stood a couple dozen yards away with their arms raised toward me. Bolts sped across the expanse, aimed at my chest. I deflected them, wishing I had something with which to return fire. I didn’t carry a gun. No nightwalker carried a gun. There had never been a need until now. With any other creature, it would have been a matter of knives or our bare hands. It had been five hundred years since we’d had a series of encounters with naturi before this, and guns hadn’t been the models of efficiency and accuracy that they were now. I was learning the hard way how to deal with the naturi. If I survived this, Gabriel would have to give me a quick lesson on how to fire a gun.

Without bothering to reload their crossbows, both naturi drew short swords and rushed me, clearly realizing that a gun would be relatively useless. The blade I held had more reach, but I knew they would waste no time coming in close to make good use of their steel.

“Nerian?” demanded the one closest to me, his hazel eyes narrowed. He had the same bushy hair and thick frame as Nerian, indicating that he was probably with the animal clan as well.

The smile grew across my face before I could stop it. It was a smile similar to one I’d seen on Jabari’s face in the past, one of peace and joy and malice. “Ashes,” I replied in a voice that could have frozen the Nile. “And you will join him soon.”

They both attacked at the same time, forcing me to dodge the blade of one while blocking the other. Across the cemetery I could hear the sound of steel clanging against steel. Apparently, Danaus had made some new friends. I kicked one of my attackers in the chest, sending him tumbling backward over a raised grave, while I blocked two more slashes from the naturi aiming to take off my head.

I would have to get rid of one of my attackers if I had any hopes of incinerating the other. Unfortunately, creating and controlling fire took a great deal of energy and concentration, particularly with the naturi. With houses, and sadly with vampires, all you had to do was start the fire. Humans took a little more work, but for some reason the naturi were the worst. Something about these creatures didn’t want to burn. That’s not to say they couldn’t, with the exception of a conscious naturi from the light clan. Overall, the naturi made nice kindling; it just required extra effort. And with one aiming to cut me into multiple pieces, I couldn’t be distracted with cremating my foes.

I turned, careful to keep my back to the wall of one of the larger mausoleums. If Danaus lost his battle or if one of his attackers abandoned him and attacked me, I didn’t want him to suddenly appear at my back. The naturi thrust his blade at me. I blocked it. As he drew it away, he flicked the tip so the edge grazed the bottom of my arm. A long red line appeared, sending a sharp, burning pain up my arm. It was a sensation I had forgotten about. All the naturi weapons were charmed, a special poison that screamed through the body.

I kicked at him, but he sidestepped my blow. What he didn’t expect was my fist landing on his nose the next second, snapping his head backward. Beneath my knuckles I felt bone break and flesh give. He staggered a couple steps backward, blood pouring down his face. He cursed, which always sounded strange to me. Their language was so beautiful and lyrical that curses came out sounding more like compliments, which is how I took it.

Across the graveyard a groan broke above the sounds of fighting. I couldn’t chance a look over, but it wasn’t Danaus’s voice. The hunter rid himself of one of his opponents. I attacked my bloody opponent before my other foe returned. Lucky for me, pain from his broken nose clouded the naturi’s judgment, and it was only two seconds later before my sword was buried in his chest. Grinning, I drew the blade upward, ripping through his vital organs and snapping bone until it broke through his collarbone and shredded the muscles and tendons in his shoulder. His eyes glazed over and his short sword clattered to the ground. Before he could collapse, I slashed my sword through the air, freeing his head from his neck.

I looked up to find my other playmate coming at me, rage glittering in his green eyes. His anger gave him more strength and speed than his companion, but I still had an edge. Nerian haunted my thoughts enough that I knew I had to kill this naturi or I would be in their hands once again—a fate I would not repeat. The brown-haired creature slashed and blocked with ease, forcing me to circle away from the wall, exposing my back. I tried to circle around so I didn’t have to worry about anyone plunging a blade in my back, but he was good.

We exchanged glancing blows so that after a couple of minutes we were both bleeding small streams from half a dozen little cuts. My body burned and my arms trembled from the pain. The naturi’s leather jerkin was soaked with blood and sweat, but his eyes were narrowed and keenly focused on me. Clearly, his goal was to kill me.

Gritting my teeth, I blocked another series of blows aimed at my heart and slashed at him, backing him up a couple feet. With a little space between us, I lowered my eyelids until my eyes were reduced to narrow violet slits. He took a step toward me with his sword raised but lurched to a sudden stop, eyes widening. His irises seemed to be swallowed up by the whites of his eyes and his mouth opened as a low, strangled cry echoed through the strangely quiet graveyard. I lowered my sword, focusing all my energy on his body. It took only another couple seconds for the flames to peek through his flesh, blackening it. The sound of sizzling skin and tissue hissed in the air, while the smell of burning hair and leather overwhelmed any lingering scents of the Nile and the city. I stepped back as his clothes ignited and he crumbled to the floor. He never screamed and it was a bit disappointing, because it had been such a painful way to go. But what do you expect when you start a fire in someone’s lungs?

When the naturi was reduced to a clump of blackened pieces, I withdrew the power, extinguishing the fire. Exhausted, I crumpled to my knees in front of the corpse. The sounds of fighting had died off and I could vaguely feel Danaus nearby. I needed to rest for a moment before turning back to my dilemma with him. Summoning a little power, I pushed out and touched the minds of any humans who had wandered close at the sounds of fighting or the sight of the brief fire. It took a little effort, but I erased the image, convincing them to turn around and return to their homes. Our secret was still safe.

“There’s the little princess,” announced a bold, mocking voice into the growing silence.

Spinning around, I landed on my butt in my haste. The last naturi had forced me to turn, leaving my back to the vast expanse of the cemetery. The last three naturi from across the street were cautiously drawing closer.

Seated on the ground with my back pressed to the sand-worn wall of one of the crumbling, red brick tombs, my eyes were locked on the center naturi, who was staring at me. I had never seen a naturi like him. Well over five feet, he had hair so dark that it looked black, where all the naturi I had ever seen before were either blond or light brown. His right eye was covered with a black leather patch, while his right cheek and jaw were crisscrossed with rough, jagged scars. The naturi healed from nearly everything, their warm beauty seemingly protected for all time.

The one-eyed naturi took a step closer, edging around the dead bodies of his companions with his sword tightly clenched in his right hand. “Time to go.”

“Not a chance.” Something in his voice teased at my memories, as if I should remember him, but I could not recall ever seeing a naturi like him.

“But I have such plans for you.” He took another step closer. Digging in my heels, I prepared to leap to my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the other two naturi turn toward Danaus. They would keep the hunter occupied while this naturi took care of me.

Yet, again his voice and words haunted me, bringing back images of Nerian and our final conversation. “Are you Rowe?”

His grin widened and he threw open his arms in a shallow bow. “At your service.” His dark red button-up shirt was open at the collar, and when he bent forward, I got a clear look at the scars that streaked across his muscular chest. As he straightened, he paused and his grin faded. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Nope.”

“We’ll fix that.” Rowe brought his sword down, but I blocked it with my own. Seated on the ground, I was at a definite disadvantage. I was too tired and hurt to try to burn him. I needed to get to my feet.

Rowe was about to bring his sword down again when a pair of high-pitched screams rent the air. A chill went up my spine and I flinched against the sound as if it were slicing through my skin. We both looked up to find that the other two naturi had dropped their short swords and were clawing wildly at their arms and face, pulling at their skin while screaming. I didn’t have a clue what was happening to them. They collapsed to the ground then, their lithe bodies jerking and arching in pain. Suddenly, the tanned skin split and blood poured out, hissing and bubbling. Their blood was boiling. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it to be possible.

“I’ll catch you soon,” Rowe said, pointing his sword at me. The sole surviving naturi then darted across the graveyard and down into the shadowy street.

My stomach twisted as it tried to turn itself inside out, my eyes falling back on the dying naturi. It was only then that I felt the enormous press of power filling the graveyard, pushing against my skin like a hand on my chest. My gaze jerked around the area and I found Danaus focused on the two naturi. He was on his knees, one hand outstretched toward them. He was doing it. This creature I had threatened and taunted was boiling the blood of his enemies from inside.

There was a brief moment of awe as I sat there watching their blood cool in the night air. My trick was good, but his was better. And what was to keep him from doing the same to me and the rest of my kind?

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