Book of Souls (Gods of Egypt 1)

by Nadine Nightingale

  “They’re Hyksos,” he says matter-of-factly.

  Blaze crosses his arms. “Hyk-what?”

  Finally, a name I recognize. “The word means ‘foreign rulers,’” I explain, grateful for Dad’s endless history lessons. “As far as I know, they were people of mixed ethnicities who took control of the Delta region of northern Egypt around the seventeenth century BCE. I heard they were brutal invaders.”

  Asim nods. “Brutal they were. But they haven’t always been foreigners. The first Hyksos were part of the group of soldiers who witnessed Seth’s end in the Hall of Eternal Life.” Another name that rings a bell, but I keep quiet about it for now. “All of Egypt shuddered when faced with the lethal assassins. For they feared no sword, no demon, no death. They belonged to Seth’s inner circle”—he looks at Blaze but quickly averts his gaze—“and were absolutely loyal to him. After he was banished to the underworld, they swore they’d find a way to bring him back. But my people drove them out of the country. Therefore, made them foreigners.”

  Darkness settles over Blaze’s eyes. “Look, I appreciate the history lesson, but can we get back to the present?” He doesn’t like this story. I can tell by the edge in his voice.

  Asim cocks a brow. “You can’t understand the present if you fail to understand the past, son.” I shiver at the sound of those words. My mom used to say the exact same thing to me. “Anyway, they waited for centuries,” Asim continues. “Filled the heads of their children with lies about Seth’s greatness and eventually built an army capable of invading Egypt. All for one reason and one reason only—to find The Book of Souls so they could use it to bring back their Lord.”

  My belly cramps. I’ve seen this book before, in the vision at the river when I—or the fictional me—used it to kill Seth.

  “Our people have spent centuries trying to make sure the Hyksos would never lay hands on the book. It was well hidden in the City of Souls, guarded by Anubis himself.”

  “Was?” I mutter, not liking where this is going.

  Asim’s eyes cloud. “Was until”—he meets my gaze—“your father dug up the Chamber of Souls. He was determined to prove its existence after he’d found references of it in an old Isis temple. Your mother tried to stop him, but your father was a stubborn man. When he set his mind to something—”

  “Nothing could stop him,” I finish for him. Yup, sounds like Dad.

  Asim nods. “A lesson your mother had to learn the hard way. She’d gotten into countless fights with him, but he just wouldn’t budge.”

  Wait a minute. So, the story my parents told me about their first encounter and how they got into each other’s faces over a digging site was really about some book? “How did she change his mind?”

  Asim blows out some steam. “She didn’t. She realized the only way to keep The Book of Souls safe was to tell your father the truth about the book’s powers and about who she was.”

  “My mom was the daughter of an Egyptian businessman,” I blurt out, disturbed by the “who she was” reference.

  Asim shakes his head. “Your mother was a guardian, Princess. A direct descendant of an old and distinguished line of priestesses—The Mistresses of the House. The women of her family had served Nebt-Het herself and worshipped her beyond death.”

  Blaze massages his temples, obviously rocking a major migraine. “So, she was the guardian of some book?”

  Asim shoots him a killer look. “Not some book, son. The spells and rituals in The Book of Souls were written by Ra himself. They have the power to bring Seth back, and if that happens, he’ll finish what he started millennia ago by unleashing Chaos onto this world.”

  I, too, need an Aspirin.

  “All right,” Blaze mutters. “So where is that damn book now?”

  Very good question.

  Asim meets my gaze. “Your father convinced your mother the book wasn’t safe in the City of Souls. He argued that more archeologists would come, and that it was simply a matter of time before someone would find it. So, they brought it here to Shepherdstown and…”

  “Died protecting it,” I mutter, flashes of that fateful night coming back to me. The killer wanted the book, and Mom refused to give it to him.

  “Yes,” Asim assures me. “They gave their lives so the rest of us could be safe. But it was all in vain.”

  A dreadful feeling nags at my heart. “The Hyksos have it, don’t they?”

  Asim stares at his dead sister. “When your aunt told Amara about your night terrors and the desert rose, she knew Seth’s people were close. So, she took the book from your house. I was supposed to pick it up and bring it back to Egypt, but…”

  He was too late. “Did you follow me home that night after my shift? Were you watching from behind a tree as I got my ass kicked?” Both times the guy was dressed in black, so it’s only logical.

  “I didn’t.” He ogles Soldier-Creature’s corpse. “It must have been one of them.”

  Blaze clenches his jaw. “Okay, if any of this is true—not saying it is—then you’re implying these psychos have a book that can bring upon the apocalypse?”

  “Yes,” Asim confirms, leaning against the desk. “But they need you to perform the ritual.”

  “Because she’s the reincarnation of a divine Egyptian goddess?” One could think Blaze is making fun of Asim, but I’m afraid he’s dead serious.

  “That,” Asim says, smiling proudly. “And because she’s the one who banished him in the first place, making her the only one who can reverse the spell.”

  Sirens blare outside.

  Asim stiffens. I recognize the expression carved into his face. He had the same one when I rocked the earth—panic. “We have to go,” he urges.

  Blaze’s phone rings. “It’s Kathy,” he says. “I have to answer.”

  I nod.

  “Kathy?”

  “Blaze?” She speaks so loud, even I can hear her. “Where are you?”

  He scans the corpses. “I’m…at Nisha’s.”

  She breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. Now, listen to me. There’ve been several explosions at the Bavarian Inn. I need you and Nisha to stay as far away as possible, you hear me?”

  Explosions.

  Bavarian Inn.

  Explosions.

  Bavarian Inn.

  I can’t think of anything else until lightning hits. Izzy, Oz, Shaggy, Scooby—all of my friends are there. So are most people of the town.

  “Do you know what happened?” Blaze asks.

  “Hyksos,” Asim mutters under his breath.

  “No,” Kathy says. “Just promise you stay safe.”

  “Okay,” he replies.

  “I gotta go.” She cuts the line.

  Asim marches toward me like a man who knows exactly what he wants. He seizes hold of my shirt. “We have to go.”

  My friends have been in the center of an explosion. I won’t go anywhere. “You’re not the boss of me,” I bark, yanking out of his grip.

  “You don’t under—”

  Soldier-Creature’s radio goes off. “Jamal, do you copy?”

  We all just stare at the small black thing in the corpse’s vest.

  “Jamal, Mission Red Desert was a success. We need her. Now. The blood moon has almost reached the perfect position.”

  Mission Red Desert? I can’t shake the dooming feeling that’s code for “we blew up the Bavarian Inn.”

  “Jamal, fucking answer me.”

  Before anyone can stop me, I pull the radio out of Jamal’s vest. “Jamal is unavailable,” I say calmly.

  A long pause follows. “Nebt-Het, is that you?” The dude sounds rather cheerful.

  “What do you want?” I hiss.

  “Since you have Jamal’s radio, I’d say you already know the answer to that question, don’t you?”

  He wants me so I’ll perform some stupid ritual, unleashing hell on earth in the process. There’s no such thing as hell, I ease my fear. Then, I realize it doesn’t matter if hell exists, or if I’m a goddess
or not. All that matters is they believe it. “Sorry, I’m unavailable too.”

  “You sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  “That’s a real shame. Because your friends and I? We’re having a jolly good time here.”

  “What?”

  “Come say hi,” he mutters.

  A second later, Izzy’s voice comes through. “Nisha?”

  “Izzy?”

  “Don’t come—”

  A dull sound echoes through the radio. Izzy cries out in pain.

  “Leave her alone,” Oz yells somewhere in the back.

  “What do you want?” I half scream, half cry.

  “You’ve got thirty minutes to get to the Bavarian Inn, or I’ll start slicing your friends’ throats. Tick tock.” The radio goes silent.

  Asim tries to pull the radio out of my hand, but Blaze steps between us. “Don’t touch her.”

  “She’s getting herself and the rest of us killed,” he reasons.

  Blaze stands his ground.

  Nothing in this world matters if my friends are gone. I can’t let this happen. I won’t. “Can you give me a ride?” I ask Blaze.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Asim barks.

  Is he seriously asking? “You heard him, didn’t you?”

  Asim stalks toward me. “I will not allow this.”

  Heat sears through my veins. “Try to stop me.” He moves back. That’s what I thought.

  I’m halfway out the door when Asim says, “You’re right, Princess. I can’t and I won’t stop you, but if you really want to turn yourself in, you should at least have a back-up plan, don’t you think?”

  You’ve got thirty minutes to get here before I slice your friends’ throats. The bastard’s words echo through my ears like a Buddhist mantra. Only it doesn’t bring me enlightenment or peace. Quite the contrary. I’m clueless, scared, and vexed.

  How did this happen? When I woke up this morning, I was Nisha Blake, most hated resident of Shepherdstown, Angel of Death, and whack-job. Not even twenty-four hours later, I had a gun pointed at my heart by some Soldier-Creature who, according to Asim, wants to bring back Seth to unleash Chaos on this world. I’ve been told I am the alleged incarnation of an Egyptian goddess, I’ve caused an earthquake, and now I am headed to the Bavarian Inn on the back of Blaze’s monster bike, hoping to save my friends from certain death. I’ve never been much of a cussword user, but fucked-up is the only adjective to describe the current situation.

  Trees and streetlights flit past us in a blur. I tighten my grip around Blaze’s waist, determined to keep a lid on my emotions. I can’t risk another energy outburst. Considering my luck, or should I say, my curse, I might end up bringing down the whole town.

  Blue lights flash in the distance—police. Blaze hits the brakes, stopping at the sideline of the road. “We can’t go farther than that,” he says, pulling his helmet off.

  Great. We already lost precious time because the cops closed North Duke Street, the main road leading to the Bavarian Inn. With a secured perimeter around Shepherd Grade Road, our only option is to hike through the woods. “There’s a small path through the forest,” I say, switching my phone’s flashlight on. “Pretty sure they didn’t shut that one down.”

  He hesitates. Gives me the same look he threw at me when I agreed to Asim’s back-up plan, the same one he wore as I voluntarily got on his bike—something between she-has-lost-it-completely and all-hope-must-be-abandoned. “Nisha—”

  “You don’t have to come with me, Blaze.” He’s only here because I needed a ride. I would have never allowed him to step foot onto the property anyway. Enough of my friends are in danger. No need to supply the bastards with more hostages.

  “Nisha,” he starts again, blocking my path. “You know this is insane, right?”

  “Insane is my middle name,” I shoot back, not in the mood to argue about my decision. Asim couldn’t hold me back. Blaze won’t either.

  “Can’t you see this is a trap? Whoever this guy is—Hyk-shit, fascist, or plain crazy—he’s never going to let the others go. Regardless of you barging in there like Wonder Woman.”

  I’m not naïve or stupid. This is the plotline of every I-take-hostages-to-get-the-protagonist-to-come-to-me-so-I-can-kill-him movie I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t change a thing. I will not sit back while my friends’ lives are at stake. “I have to try, Blaze.”

  He scrubs his fingers through his messy hair, pulling like a maniac. “Whatever happened to ‘we don’t negotiate with terrorists’? Don’t they teach you guys that in kindergarten or something?”

  Less than twenty minutes left, and he’s throwing side blows at the USA? Sorry, I don’t have the nerve to cope with his sarcasm. “Know what else they teach us in kindergarten? To fight for those who can’t fend for themselves.”

  Blaze cocks a brow. “Did you read that in the Soldier’s Monthly?”

  Irritation bleeds into my system. “Nah, in a Captain America comic, if you must know.”

  I move around him, heading for the woods. “Nisha,” he barks, pulling me back.

  I eyeball his hand on my jacket. “Let go, Blaze.”

  “Don’t you understand?” His eyes catch fire. “You’re getting yourself killed.”

  I’ve had it with him. “What would you do if they had your sisters?”

  The air shifts. Blaze’s shoulders sink. I hit the bull’s-eye. “Lead the way.” He snorts through gritted teeth.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I’ll come, or you won’t go.” He’s dead serious. “Pick your poison, princess.” Blackmail seems to become an ugly habit.

  “Fine.” For now, I’ll let him drag along.

  Fifteen minutes left. We’re almost there. I can see the lampions hanging in the garden of the Bavarian Inn. And just like we predicted, the police aren’t around.

  Hiding my trembling hands in my pockets, I move faster. The bloody moon slices through the mighty crowns of the old trees, casting a spooky orange light on our path. We push through the thick underwood, heading straight for the stairs leading up to the pool of the Bavarian Inn. Izzy and I used to come here in the summer. As relatives of a staff member, we were allowed to take a swim every now and then. Sometimes, when the hotel was booked, we’d take the shortcut through the woods, hoping no one would see us—especially Aunt V.

  “Princess?” Blaze whispers, branches snapping beneath his feet. “May I ask you a question?”

  Questions are better than senseless arguments or more blackmail, right? “Shoot.”

  “What’s with you and this Seth guy?”

  I take it back. Arguments are so much better than any Seth-related questions, especially if they come out of Blaze’s mouth. Too bad I already opened the can of worms. “Nothing. I just dream of him.” And feel like I belong with him.

  Awkward silence settles between us. You don’t have to have supernatural powers to sense the disappointment radiating from Blaze. Seems like Dad was right again—never ask a question you don’t want a truthful answer to.

  “Do you love him?” he blurts out without a dang warning.

  I stop dead in my tracks. Do I love him? No. I mean, I never thought about it. For all I knew, he was just a hallucination, a guy my broken mind conjured up to rationalize the irrational. But he’s real. I’m still having a hard time accepting that. Because if I do, I’d have to come to terms with the possibility that I’m some kind of goddess. And that—despite sudden earthquakes—will never happen.

  Blaze averts his gaze. “I’m sorry, princess. Forget I ever asked.” He’s hurting. The pain is laced into his eyes, his face, his voice.

  “Some nights,” I say. “I hate him. He’s cruel and vicious. Cunning and self-centered. But”—I clear my throat—“sometimes, when I look him in the eye, I feel sorry for him. I know this sounds crazy, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t always evil. There was good in him too.”

  Blaze bites on his lower lip and nods. “I’m sure there w
as.”

  Well, since we’re being honest with each other, I have one last thing to get off my chest. Life is literally too short to keep the important stuff for later. “Blaze?” He looks up. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I wish I would have been strong enough to stick to my safety distance rule, but a guy like you…” Why is it so hard to talk about one’s feelings? Because if you say it out loud, they become real. “You helped me forget what a freak I am,” I choke out. “Staying away from you was so hard, because all I wanted was to be with you.” There, I said it. Time to move on.

  He seizes hold of my hand and hauls me close to his chest. “Whatever happens today, I need you to know I don’t regret falling in love with you.”

  Did he just say he fell in love with me? Nah, I’m hallucinating again.

  Blaze cups my face. “The second I saw you at the police station, I knew I had to get to know you. That you were special.”

  “You mean deadly,” I murmur.

  He ignores the comment. “You didn’t look at me like everyone else, never judged me for my tattoos, or dwelled in my hotness. I swear, sometimes it feels as if you can see into my soul, judging me for who I am rather than what I look like.” He runs his thumb over my cheek and smiles. “I didn’t need anyone to tell me you’re a goddess, princess. I knew the second I met your emerald eyes.”

  This isn’t a hallucination. Blaze and his words are real. I know, because they hit me in the heart, stirring up the dragon wings in my belly.

  “You took my heart, princess, and I want you to keep it.” He bends down. “Don’t taint what I feel with your regrets, okay?”

  Mouth dry, and heart racing, I nod. “Okay.”

  Then, under the watchful eyes of the moon and the stars, Blaze’s mouth crashes down on mine. This time, it’s exactly what I expected from him—hungry, passionate, wild. The kiss promises always, and I begin to realize forever can be a single moment in time.

  Death and I, we’ve been in this screwed-up relationship for so long, I thought nothing could shock me anymore. Figured I’ve seen it all. I mean, it couldn’t possibly get worse than my parents’ murder or Amara’s mutilation, could it?