“Aye. And from what I heard he knows what this is and verra likely can tell us how tae get it off you. Will you let me take you tae him?” He stopped moving, waiting for her reply. Doing his best not to force her to his will. Realizing that, she smiled softly at him and touched warm fingers to his serious mouth.
“I trust you to know what’s best … in this particular instance.”
He had to grin at her obvious stipulation. “Verra well. But first you’ll be putting on some decent clothing. We’ve a closetful here, just in case a new Bodywalker comes tae town and needs a wardrobe. It’s a thing,” he said at her quizzical expression. “The Bodywalkers like tae be prepared for everything.”
“Oh, I see. Yes. Clothes would be very nice.” As he walked them into the hallway she asked, “How is it that your forger is under the same roof as you are? I mean, how do you even keep from killing him where he stands? It seems to me that would be your first reaction.”
“Aye. First, second, and last. But he’s a powerful man and has defected from the Templars. A man like that, with his power, could help sway the way of the war. But there are other reasons, even more dangerous ones why we need him on our side. You see, there’s an evil god who—”
“Did you say a god?” she interrupted incredulously.
“Aye. I did. Kamenwati cast magic and accidentally resurrected a demon god named Apep into the female Templar leader’s body. Her name is Odjit. This god has more power than you can possibly imagine in him. Kamen says it will take time tae come tae fruition, and when that happens we’ll all be the first thing on his hit list. Now do you see? Do you see why I canna have you here? You’ve no defense again’ a regular Templar, never mind a demon god.”
“I see,” she said with a tight swallow. “But I still won’t go.”
“Gods, you’re stubborn, woman.”
“Aye,” she said smugly.
After he brought her to the closet of all women’s wet dreams, allowing her to find a pair of jeans that fit—almost, they were too long—and a pretty russet blouse that flattered her eyes, she fluffed her hair in a nearby mirror … then smoothed it … then fluffed it again.
“Ye gods woman, you’re no’ going out on a date!” Ahnvil said in exasperation. And she detected a hint of jealousy in the remark as well. For some reason that tickled her pink.
“Right. Well, I just want to make sure I look good for when I kick him in the ass. He deserves it for what he did to you.”
“Aye,” Ahnvil said thoughtfully. “But if he had no’, I wouldna have gotten tae meet you.”
She hadn’t thought about it like that, and again it gave her pleasure that he had.
She went to walk out of the room, but he stopped her, moved in front of her, and kept her a step behind his back as he led her down the stairs. The entire time they moved through the house and down the stairs he kept her in a protective position, making sure his body was guarding hers at all times.
She thought about saying something, about showing her exasperation, but in the end it was kind of soothing to feel so well protected. There was something strongly pleasing about it. It seemed as though for the most part all of what he was doing was giving her pleasure. In one form or another. And just thinking about some of the forms that pleasure had taken had her flushing rosy red as she followed him.
They went down to the second story, and she realized there were more suites of rooms down here. The main house itself was enormous, and she had noticed a couple of other houses situated behind it a little distance away. All and all the property was mammoth. The driveway to get to the house had been very long. And all around them for as far as the eyes could see was land. Allowing them privacy, she realized, against whatever paranormal activity might happen there.
“Wait! I forgot about Bella! I have to leave her a note. She could be here anytime.”
“After,” he said. “Then we can write your note and tack it tae the door. I’m still no’ comfortable wi’ you talking tae the spirit.”
“She’s not a spirit,” she felt the need to point out.
“Whatever she is, I doona like it.”
“Well, maybe we’ll find out something about her from your forger.”
“Aye. That’s a possibility. Here we are.” They stopped at a closed door and he rapped his knuckles against it.
“How do you know he’s in there?”
“He’s confined tae his rooms more often than no’. We’re still wary of his intentions, so he has limited access tae the house. But we have grown more lax abou’ it over time. I doona agree with it, but I doona question my Pharaoh all that much. He’s a wiser man than I and has proved it over the many incarnations I have been with him for.”
“But everyone deserves questioning,” she said with a frown.
“Aye, but like I said, he’s proved to be right more often than no’.”
The door opened just then, revealing a tall, athletically built man with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and pretty astounding good looks.
“Jeez, do all of you have to look like you just stepped off the cover of a romance novel?” she muttered.
“Kamenwati,” Ahnvil said, ignoring her remark. “I need … I need a favor,” he gritted out from between his teeth. She knew how much it took for him to say those words. Even Kamen raised his brows in surprise.
“Do come in,” Kamen said with politesse, swinging the door open wide and stepping back to allow them to pass. After they had filed into the room, Ahnvil once again put her slightly behind him, but lifted the pendant around her neck, displaying it against his palm for Kamenwati to see.
“It’s called Adoma’s Amulet,” he said tightly. “And she canna get it off.”
“I know what it’s called,” Kamen said, a cultured nearly British accent coming from him. Maybe a little more … South African? He came forward slowly, presumably not to spook the big Gargoyle standing between her and him, and lifted the Amulet into his own hand. “It has something like a curse on it. ‘When the child of dark dons the Amulet of Adoma, it shall forever bring insight and protection to the wearer, but will never be removed.’ How is she a child of dark? Is she a Nightwalker? I always presumed that was what it meant.”
“No, she is no’. She canna go out in the sun though. She has a disease.” He looked to Kat for help.
“Xeroderma pigmentosum,” she supplied dutifully.
“I see. They call you the children of the night.”
“You’ve heard of it?” she asked with surprise.
“I have many centuries’ worth of medical knowledge.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I had originally thought ‘child of dark’ meant a Nightwalker. I was researching it more carefully before donning it myself. I did not want to be reckless.” The remark was pointed.
“Hey! How was I supposed to know it had a curse on it?” she grumbled.
“I’m not sure I can get this off for you,” Kamen said. “But perhaps with access to all new spells, incantations, and research source material I will find something I didn’t find before.”
“Our recorded histories,” Ahnvil explained to Kat, “or rather, those of the Bodywalkers, were separated when the war began. Each faction commandeered different storage areas and relocated what they found there. That left the historical sources split in two. They only have access to partial resources and so do we.”
“My research thus far was unsatisfactory, but … how did you come about possessing this? The last I saw it it was in my quarters at the Templar stronghold.”
“A Templar named Panahasi stole it from your belongings,” Ahnvil explained, the bitterness in his tone growing. “He was the one who captured me and held me. He seemed tae think I was the ‘slave, born of the infinite Nightwalkers.’ I thought it said: ‘The slave, born of the infinite Nightwalkers, will set free the power wi’in. The one that harnesses Adoma’s Amulet will have such power as to make a god weep.’ What you’re saying is different.”
“There was more t
o it than what you heard. And you may be the slave. I certainly thought you were. Or rather, a Gargoyle in general. I don’t really understand, and these things are really subjective when it comes to interpretation. As for breaking the curse and removing the Amulet, I’m not entirely sure I can do that, either. But as I said, I will need access to your stored resources.”
A look of utter suspicion crossed Ahnvil’s features.
“I doona think that will be allowed.”
“Then I can’t help you,” Kamen said, looking genuinely regretful. But she could tell Ahnvil would never trust him in this.
“Maybe this is something you ought to take up with your Pharaoh,” she suggested. “Because I really want this thing off … oh wait. But not yet. There’s the girl … the woman. I keep communicating with a woman who I can’t see, who Ahnvil can’t see, but other people can. It’s complicated,” she said dismissively, realizing how it must sound. “What if this Amulet is the reason why this is happening?”
“Now this is interesting,” Kamen said, looking genuinely fascinated. “You say you communicate. How?”
“By written notes. Oh, and I can see the note float up and stuff, as if someone were picking it up. As if she were the Invisible Woman, or something.”
“Intriguing,” Kamen mused.
“And she’s coming here. To Portales.”
“Now this I would like to see,” Kamen said. “I am curious if any of us will be able to see her or if it is just the two of you she is invisible to.”
“Provided she ever gets here. I have to write a note to her. I thought I would put it on the door.”
“So you are bringing this unknown element right to our doorstep?” Kamen queried archly.
“I doona like it any more than you do,” he said to Kamen. “But I dinna see any other way of resolving this.”
“I see. Well, there’s no changing it now in any event. Let me know what Jackson says about the source material and if he agrees I will get to work straightaway. Also, let me know when this woman begins to write back to you. I have a few spells I can try to help lift whatever obfuscation—”
“No! No spells!” Ahnvil said sharply. Kamen raised a brow, clearly undisturbed by the hulking, bristling giant.
“And just how do you think I am going to be removing the Amulet? I rather doubt writing sonnets to it will do the trick. Spells are what I do, what I know. And you know that or you wouldn’t have brought her to me. This Amulet is of the supernatural. It will take the supernatural to remove it.”
That made Ahnvil glower, the anger in him evident. “We’ll talk to Jackson,” Kat said, pulling at the seething Gargoyle, trying to get him to move down the hallway with her. After a moment he relented and followed in her wake.
For a minute.
Then he was putting her behind himself again, leading the way.
“You know, this better be you protecting me,” she muttered, “because if this is some medieval the-woman-walks-ten-paces-behind-the-man bullshit, I’m going to be really pissed.”
“ ’Tis no’ bullshite,” he said. “I doona want you hurt so ’tis best you remain where I can protect you.”
“That’s what I thought it was,” she said with a soft sigh. “But you can’t protect me every minute of every day.”
He stopped and turned to look at her. “Aye. I can. ’Tis what I was created tae do. And I’ll be loyal tae it and tae you till the day I die. Do you ken that?”
“I …” She swallowed. There was something so breathtaking about the intensity of his words. And there was so much feeling behind them as well. To say it made her feel special … treasured … was an understatement. “All right,” she said. Then she touched a hand to his back, urging him onward.
They found Jackson and explained what was happening and what Kamen’s request was.
“I’m leery about giving him access to our source material as well,” he admitted to them. “But if we want to see this thing off you I don’t see any way around it.” Jackson frowned in spite of the fact that the lovely redheaded Marissa entered the room and immediately found her place under his arm, snuggling against his body. Watching the two of them was like watching a romantic movie come to life. He was sweet to her, his fingertips touching and then holding her hand, his lips brushing the rise of her cheek as he thought on his problem for a moment. “The fact is, if we want to have any hope of defeating Apep when he decides to come for us, we will need Kamenwati to have full access to all of the material we can provide him. But I am still not sure I trust his motivations completely. He says he is here to help right the wrong he has committed, but there is always the chance that he is working his own agenda for the benefit of the Templars.”
“Wait … Apep? The demon god? And the Templars are bad. The war you’re in. Have I got that right?”
“Yes.” Jackson said.
“Why would Kamen want to atone? What’d he do?”
“He resurrected the god Apep while trying to reawaken his mistress, Odjit,” Jackson explained. “He says he regrets this and will work with us to help defeat her. We are gathering strength, and Kamenwati is part of that strength … provided he is sincere.” He paused thoughtfully. “But there might be another resource besides Kamen that we can use. Grey. Only he isn’t here at the moment.”
“Grey?” she echoed.
“A Djynn. Very likely the most powerful Djynn in the North American continent. He is ruler of all the Djynn here. There are others just as powerful ruling over the other continents, but we recently came to know him and he has visited us since then, from time to time. He knows that Apep is a force to be reckoned with and might lend a hand if we need him to.”
“Might?” she asked Jackson.
“Djynn are notoriously capricious. They always have their own agenda.”
“Is that why it’s bad to make wishes?”
“Aye, it is,” Ahnvil said gravely.
“Then I’m not sure I want to meet a Djynn,” she hedged worriedly.
“Doona worry. I willna let him hurt you.”
“He sounds much more powerful than you are,” she said cautiously, not wanting to insult him but knowing no other way of voicing her opinion on the matter.
“I’m tougher than I look,” he said, chucking her under the chin with a curved finger.
“That’s saying a lot,” she said with a laugh.
“Aye.” He turned to Jackson. “So how do we get in touch wi’ Grey?”
“There isn’t a way. We’ll just have to wait. He didn’t say when he would be returning, but I got the impression he would not be gone long.”
“I hope not. The sooner she’s away from here the happier I’ll be.”
That earned him a smack on the arm. “I told you, I’m not leaving!” Kat cried.
“We’ll see,” Ahnvil said.
“That means ‘We do it my way, woman!’ ” she scoffed. “I’m not going to let you boss me around. God! You can be so infuriating!” She pushed away from them and, spying a pad and a pen she scooped them up and marched toward the entrance of the house.
“And just where do you think you’re goin’?” he demanded to know from her.
“For a walk! And you’re not coming with me! I’m just going down to the road and back and I don’t need you following me. I have to think about what to say in my next letter to Bella and I also need a break from a lumbering, pigheaded Gargoyle!”
“Lumbering?” he echoed. Then he shook it off. “No. I forbid you tae go. You willna leave this house wi’out me.”
“You forbid me?” she said, her voice raising enough octaves to make him wince. “No one forbids me from doing anything! And even if I agreed to take someone with me it sure as hell wouldn’t be a jackass like you!” She turned her back on him and marched out the door, muttering the word forbid under her breath and scoffing.
Ahnvil turned to look over at Jackson and Marissa helplessly, seeking some kind of guidance from them. “Tell her ’tis no’ safe for her! She willna listen
tae me!”
“She said she wasn’t leaving the property, so she should be fine,” Jackson said.
“You can’t tighten your grip on her,” Marissa advised. “She’ll just slip through your fingers if you do.”
“But ’tis no’ safe. Surely you know that!”
“There are Gargoyles all around the property,” Marissa reminded him. “And she doesn’t have anything anyone would want.”
“What abou’ the Amulet?” he asked even as the front door was slamming shut. He looked back at it worriedly, seemingly torn between staying and going. “I doona think that attack yesterday was meant by Apep. I think it was Panahasi trying tae get the Amulet back.”
“It’s true Apep would have sent a stronger force,” Jackson said with a sage nod. “And it’s likely he would have been in the middle of the fray. Just the same, I could have been the target just as much as it could have been about the Amulet. There’s really no telling. But she’s mortal and fragile, Ahnvil. Anything out in the world could hurt her. You can’t protect her from all of it.”
“She could bump her head against a door and develop a brain bleed and die,” Marissa posited. “There’s no way you would ever be able to protect her from something like that. And if you constantly smother her you’ll as good as kill her anyway. You have to let her make her own choices, let her choose to take her own risks. The disease she has is dangerous and deadly. She knows what it means to live a life of caution. She won’t just throw it away for no reason. Just give her a little time alone. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ahnvil didn’t look happy with that idea. He had begun to fidget the minute the door had shut behind her. It was in his blood to protect that which he felt loyal to. It was almost impossible to fight the impulse.
It made him wonder when, exactly, he had begun to feel so utterly loyal to her. It had happened so gradually. While he wasn’t paying any attention. One day he’d been a stranger to her, and the next he couldn’t move three feet away from her because his soul was screaming out to him that she needed and deserved protection. A feeling that had only intensified since the attack at the airport … and since he had made love to her.
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