Book of Souls (Gods of Egypt 1)

by Nadine Nightingale

  Headshots.

  They go down one by one, starting with Oz’s and Izzy’s guards.

  Thornton and Scarface are the only ones still able to walk. In the corner of my eye, I watch Thornton’s trigger finger move. He’s going to kill Blaze. Energy buzzes through my palm. He’s not going to die. Not today. Like a robot, I lift my hand. The gun flies out of Psycho Teacher’s hand.

  Blaze meets my gaze and smiles. “Thanks, princess.” I just nod. Then, he head-butts Thornton so hard, he falls backward on his ass.

  More shots are fired.

  More soldier-creatures drop dead.

  Asim is behind Blaze, cutting the zip-ties off.

  I scan the room, searching for Oz and Izzy. Oz is fighting one of the creatures, giving the thing’s ugly face a makeover. A white cat aids Oz, hissing at the soldier, rooting him to the spot. I swear, had I not seen this with my own eyes, I’d never believe it. There are ten hellish creatures with assault rifles and god knows what else hiding underneath their vests, and all it takes to end them are a bunch of cats? Paradox.

  Still shocked, I keep searching for Izzy. It’s not easy, considering I’m in the midst of a battle, one our people are winning. Most soldier-creatures are down, and Thornton is busy whining about his broken nose. But where the heck is my cousin?

  “Izzy!” I yell.

  “N-Nisha,” she stammers behind me, voice barely a whisper.

  I spin on my heels and find her a step away from the portal. Scarface has a hunting knife to her throat. “Take your hands off her.” My voice is like thunder, stopping all commotion in the room.

  “Izzy!” Oz screams, running toward her.

  Scarface’s blade cuts through her skin. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Oz stops dead in his tracks. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

  Scarface pays no attention to him. All he cares about is me. “Did you really think it would be that easy? That a bunch of cats and some lame Thebans”—he points to Asim—“could stop us?” He laughs. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for millennia. Seth will rise, and when he does, he will have his immortality back.” Then, without another warning, he pushes my cousin through the portal.

  “No,” I scream as the blackness swallows her whole.

  Scarface laughs. “She’ll never find her way back alone. The demons will devour her soul, Princess.”

  Oz drops to his knees.

  Blaze tackles Scarface down. He manages to get ahold of the knife straight away, piercing it through the guy’s heart.

  “You can get her back,” are the bastard’s last words.

  The world around me ceases to exist. All I see is the portal and the terror in Izzy’s eyes when he pushed her in. I don’t think, have no time for weighing out the consequences of what I’m about to do. I just jump.

  “Princess,” Blaze yells, trying to get ahold of me.

  It’s too late. I have entered the realm of the underworld, and there’s no going back.

  “What have you done?” Blaze’s watery eyes are the last thing I see before the portal closes behind me and I’m surrounded by pure and utterly terrifying darkness.

  “Izzy?” I try to locate her. It’s pitch-black. I can’t see my own hand. “Izzy, where are you? It’s me, Nisha.” The only answer I get is the echo of my own voice.

  I don’t know how long I stand there, calling out her name. It feels like forever and just a second at the same time. She’s not here. Where is she? Heck, where am I? Is this really the underworld? The place my mom referred to as the realm of monsters and hate?

  I dare a small step. “Can anyone hear me?”

  Fiery breath beats against the nape of my neck. “Together at last.” I’d recognize his voice even if I were deaf. It sends shivers down my spine and a jolt of electricity through my heart.

  “Seth?” I whisper, slowly turning. I catch a glimpse of his garnet eyes and realize Robert Frost was wrong. The world won’t burn to the ground. Neither will it freeze. It will end in love—our love.

  Let me be straight with you guys. I pretty much suck at acknowledgments and if I forget someone—I sure as hell will—don’t hate me. Just remember the whole ‘I suck at this’ warning, okay?

  First, I’d like to thank my readers. So many of you have given me—a new author—a shot. It blew my mind. I honestly never expected that kind of support and love, and I am eternally grateful for it. I’m known to be the ice queen, but you guys melted my heart time and again. Thank you for reading my stories. But above all, thank you for reminding me that people don’t suck.

  To my family, I have no freaking clue how you guys put up with me. Seriously, I’m bitch-incarnated, and when I write a new book I give Maleficent a run for her money. Yet you guys are always there for me, dealing with my mood swings like champions. They say you can’t choose your family. Well, even if I could, I’d pick you guys. Every. Damn. Time. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

  Tiffany, long before you became the BEST PA anyone could ask for, you were my friend. I’m such a mess most of the time. Without you, I’d probably lost my head. You go above and beyond—cheering me up with hot pics when I’m sick, listening to my endless chatter about characters and new book ideas, and always being there for me. You’re the sister I never had and I’m so damn grateful F*cking Awkward brought you in my life. I love you, girl.

  Dusty, Johnaka, Betul, Denae, Kaye, Sunni, and all you other bloggers, I owe you everything. There are so many great books and authors out there, I’m well aware how hard it is to give a new one a shot. But you did and your support means the world to me. The book business is tough, and sometimes a bit ugly. You guys made me feel welcome and loved. Thank you for investing your time in my stories. And thank you even more for becoming my friends. Love you all!

  Murphy Rae and Holly, my editors who turn a mess of commas into a diamond. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better writer and being brutally honest. Every writer needs you in their lives. Fellow authors, go to Indie Solutions and thank me later. Oh, and Murphy…You’re by far the best cover designer I ever met. A true artist.

  Nightingales, my street team, and most treasured supporters—I’m so damn grateful to have you all in my life. You put up with my craziness, and show me so much love it’s amazing. I love to read your messages and to be part of your lives. It’s like having an extended family, scattered across the globe. Thanks for everything. I love you. Hard.

  Grace and Aidan, fellow authors, and friends—you were there for me from the beginning, always cheering me on. Even if I’d never sold a book, I’d do it all over just to meet you guys. And yeah, it might have something to do with the fact that I need you to survive the zombie apocalypse, Grace. But, hey, I never claimed to be selfless, did I?

  I forgot someone. I know I did. Whoever you are, I love you, too. And remember, I warned you about sucking at this.

  Nadine aka Dini is a traveler at heart. She considers the world her home and practically lives out of her suitcases. When she’s not glaring at a blank page or abusing her poor keyboard, she spends her time reading, watching movies (preferably horror), pretends to work out, and hangs out with friends and family. Poor girl also suffers from a serious Marvel superhero addiction. So, if you run into her at night, wearing black, know she’s secretly dreaming of being the infamous Black Widow.

  And check out her social media!

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNadineNightingale

  Twitter: @dini_caroline

  Website: www.nadinenightingale.com

  Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2hDld1A

  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/therealnadinenightingale/

 

 

 
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