Soul Awakened

by Jean Murray

  The silence that followed his arrival ceased and the low din of conversation reclaimed the great hall. Bakari did not bother to look around or acknowledge his bunk mate. He sat on the dilapidated mattress, a fright better than sleeping on hard stone. It sagged under his weight. Focusing on the pitched ceiling, he lay on his back and slid his hands behind his head and under the pillow.

  Sin sat on the edge of his bunk and leaned forward. “I would not go to sleep.” He followed Sin’s gaze to the large warrior that shoved Bakari earlier. Despite his own enormous size his fellow fledgling’s anxiety was palpable. Sin scanned the crowd with his muscles clenched.

  Bakari would have asked why, but honestly he did not care. He wanted to be left alone and retreat into his own darkness. Subsist. He had a growing feeling that was going to be less and less a possibility. Sin stood up and moved out from the wall. Bakari closed his eyes and sighed.

  Reluctantly, he released the treasure he held in his hand and left it hidden under the pillow for safe keeping. He stood and turned to the wall of five dark warriors at the foot of his bed.

  “So soon. I just got here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Kendra pushed open the doors to the palace library. She looked around at the stacks and stacks of books Bomani had carried from her room the day prior. The hours and hours of worry and lost sleep. Too many.

  She should be happy she accomplished her goal, but she only felt hallow and empty. She sighed. Did she expect too much from Bakari? Did she envision him as this great hero that would come to save the day?

  Save her?

  It could be the only explanation of why she felt so… disappointed.

  She heard every word Bakari said to Asar. It was as if Bakari was talking about someone else. Those things he did to his own father. She shook her head, unable to even comprehend his betrayal. Worse yet, she couldn’t get the pictures of him with Kepi out of her mind. Somehow she felt dirty for even staying in bed with him and wanting him to touch her in intimate places. Places he had touched her.

  She pressed her fingers into the scorpion mark on her chest. To make her mood bleaker, her chest ached. Could a heart truly break? It sure felt like it. Sighing again, she got to work putting the books away. She first categorized them on the table, piling them in like stacks. Luckily, the books were cataloged similar to the Dewey Decimal system. Either way, it was enough busy work to keep her mind from wandering and wondering.

  The books were of sufficient weight that she got winded carrying them through the long aisles of the library. The self-imposed workout burned off her anger, but there was a small amount that she wasn’t ready to let go. Because once she did, she knew the tears would flow. God help her. Why did what he said hurt so much?

  Why didn’t he kill himself?

  With a grunt, she hefted the heavy text up and slid it onto the shelf. Tonight wasn’t the first time he contemplated suicide since his awakening. It was her tip off when she touched the blade.

  The concept of suicide was incomprehensible to her. Never at any point in her life did she consider death as the answer. But then again, she lived a sheltered life. Would she think the same way if Kepi successfully kidnapped her? Did things to her?

  Once again the pangs of sympathy wrenched at her heart and the ache became heavier. She leaned her forehead against the spine of the book she had placed on the shelf. She never wanted to feel this way again. A single tear slipped down the side of her cheek—the only one she would allow. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and pushed away from the shelf. If Bakari chose to take his life and hers with him, then so be it.

  In the meantime, she had a crime to solve and a traitor to uncover. They had a traitor amongst them. Someone had the power to circumvent Asar’s ability to restrict the Underworld. Kepi had always been one step ahead of Asar. The informant had to be close to the god.

  She needed to look at her evidence again. More resolved then ever she turned to leave, and almost bumped into the form that stood at the end of the aisle.

  “Nebt, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” Or hear her for that matter. How long had she been standing there?

  Nebt looked at her with her soft brown eyes framed by her matching hair. “I should have announced myself. Please accept my apology.”

  Kendra forced a smile. “It’s okay, I was cleaning up.” She walked around the goddess and headed to the table to grab the last book. Nebt followed her with her eyes. “How are you fairing, Kendra?”

  Kendra continued her search for the right slot. She hated to hear the pity in the goddess’ voice. “I’ll be better when this book is on its shelf.” She moved to the next row following the sequence of numbers.

  Nebt pursued her down each aisle. Kendra swore the goddess floated wherever she went. She heard not one footfall against the stone. “Do you want to talk about what happened in the dungeon?”

  “Not really.” Kendra stalked forward along the next aisle. Where was the blasted spot? She realized the numbers were too high. She must have blown by the location. Turning, she side stepped around Nebt and retraced her steps.

  “It may help with your pain.”

  Kendra stopped and looked up. A gap in the books on the upper most shelves attracted her eye. She looked around for the ladder that Bomani had given her when they first arrived in the library. Talking would get her nowhere. Doing eased her pain.

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not the one in pain.” Kendra froze realizing what she said. Could it be Bakari’s pain she was feeling through their blood-bond? His, not hers.

  Kendra turned to look Nebt in the face. “I’m not the person you should be worried about.” She wasn’t the one contemplating suicide.

  “Bakari has refused my counsel.”

  Nebt reached out to take Kendra’s hand. Kendra stepped back and shook her head. “Don’t touch me.” She didn’t need Nebt poking around in her head and heart. Kendra’s desires for Bakari were hers, no one else’s.

  Nebt frowned and retracted her hand. “I only want to help.”

  “Then ask,” Kendra bit back. Unable to face the goddess, she turned away. “Thank you for your concern, but I know what I need to do. I realize I can’t control Bakari’s decision or actions. If he doesn’t want help, that’s his loss.” More bitterness. Her memories shot back to the cell. The anger she saw in Bakari’s face. Stupid girl, he had called her. Her throat tightened and tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

  “Having your life tied to someone who does not value their own must be very upsetting. It is natural to feel angry. He has taken your freedom to choose and has rendered you powerless against his own self-hatred.”

  A defensive rush of anger sent a flush of warmth to Kendra’s cheeks. Words to defend Bakari’s actions danced on the tip of her tongue, but she pushed the misguided loyalty away like a sour glass of milk.

  Nebt spoke the truth, didn’t she?

  Kendra wasn’t convinced despite all the evidence to the contrary. She didn’t know which upset her more, that Bakari would disregard her life or that he choose her to vent his anger. Somehow the latter stung sharper and deeper.

  Nebt stepped closer. “Your mother has asked you to bear a burden that is too extensive for one individual. Bakari has chosen his path. The sooner you come to terms with that the better you will feel. Even though it pains me to say this, I must. Bakari has brought shame to this family. You must stay away from him. Forget him. ”

  Kendra stared at the goddess. Her words confused her on so many levels. What did her mother have to do with this? Even though her mother made her for the task of awakening Bakari, Kendra had made the choice to use her blood. No one forced her. A part of her agreed with Nebt, she should forget him, but she knew the scorpion mark on her chest would be a constant reminder. She would come to terms when the person responsible for Bakari’s kidnapping was caught. “What happened the day Bakari was kidnapped?”

  “Sorry?”

  “What happened the day Bakari wa
s kidnapped?”

  “I am sorry. I do not know.”

  A chill brushed against Kendra’s exposed arms. Despite the unchanged expression on Nebt’s face, Kendra definitely hit a topic the goddess was unhappy about her bringing up. Kendra quickly changed the subject. “Thank you for your counsel. Maybe we can talk later?”

  Nebt’s eyes narrowed. “Of course.”

  Movement shifted over the goddess’ shoulder. Bomani cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting?”

  Kendra smiled and brushed past Nebt and handed him the book. “Just the person I wanted to see. Can you put that back?” Kendra pointed up to the top shelf. Nebt’s gaze remained targeted on her.

  Bomani nodded. He ascended the ladder and slid the book into its rightful place. All the while Kendra felt the burn of Nebt’s gaze on her back. The woman obviously wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Only after Bomani stepped off the ladder did Nebt shift her gaze to him.

  “It is good to see you, Commander.”

  Bomani bowed. “And you, goddess.” Nebt placed her hand on his bare forearm.

  Irritated, Kendra fixated on the contact point. The goddess smiled, apparently pleased with something she read from Bomani’s soul. Kendra frowned knowing any information would be withheld from her, but then again, it was probably best she didn’t know. Nothing good would come of it on her end. Her bleeding heart would only get used. Again.

  Kendra watched Nebt exit the library. “Thanks,” she said without turning to look at Bomani. “And not just for the book.”

  “Nebt can be very persistent when she wants to be.”

  “I’m sure.” Warmth bled into her body when she looked into Bomani’s golden eyes. Always, a gentleman. Always, predictable. Always there for her if she needed it. She gathered strength from his presence.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other, but long enough for Bomani to start shifting on his feet. Kendra shook her head and walked into the main vestibule of the library. All the books had been replaced, so she went to work straightening up the chairs. After pushing in the last chair, Kendra glanced around the room looking for her next project.

  Eyeing a shelf that had books toppled over, she moved to intercept. Bomani stepped in her way. “Hungry?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Come. Those books are not going anywhere.” He gingerly grasped her hand and pulled her toward the door. After her confrontation with Nebt she had no energy to resist. Once through the door he leaned over and picked up a black satchel. “Express or do you want to walk?”

  “I much prefer to walk, if it’s okay with you.”

  He led them down the stairs to the beach. The night sky mirrored the reflection of the constellations on the human world. The time of day was in opposition here. The warm breeze hit her skin and she took a deep breath of salt air from the serpentine river that cut through the Underworld. Kendra knew from her teachings the waters of the Underworld were fed from the Nile River, the same river that ferried the souls to the gates of the afterlife.

  The soft sand moved under her feet. It resurfaced memories of a better time of –

  her family on the beaches of the Eastern Shore. Bomani spread the blanket out and started to pull out the food from the satchel. “I was not sure what you would like, so I threw a little bit of everything in.”

  Kendra flopped on the blanket and crossed her legs. It was dark out, but ironically, she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t remember the last time she had her flashlight anyways. It had gotten lost in all the chaos. She didn’t need it anyways right now. The cloudless sky allowed the stars to illuminate the beach, like a full moon. More importantly, she felt safe.

  She started to pick at the food. Despite an initial lack of appetite, she ate an entire sandwich, a large bunch of grapes and a glass of wine.

  Finally, she lay on the blanket and gazed at the stars. Bomani rested next to her with his hands clasped over his chest. The picnic was such a small gesture, but provided her a little slice of normalcy in her frenzied world.

  She reached up and pulled at his arm. His hand fell perfectly into hers. She weaved her fingers through his.

  Maybe she could forget.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A calming wave flowed through Bomani’s skin into his cells and coursed up the length of his arm from the small hand he held in his palm. His nervousness bled away from this strange but beautifully soothing aura. It overpowered his resistance to it, like a sweet sedative.

  He wondered if this was the magic that kept Bakari from hurting her. There were no coincidences. His hope sunk slightly with the realization that it only confirmed Bast’s statement. Kendra was not made for him. That may be the case, but she was here with him now, seeking his comfort. Bakari did not deserve something so precious. His brother had chosen his course and was paying for his sins. Bomani would ensure it—ten times over.

  He pushed away the guilt that filtered into his conscience. He knew what would happen to Bakari the minute he left the warrior barracks. The bastard deserved it, hurting Kendra the way he did. He looked at her creamy skin against his black scarred arm. It was the first time in his life he wished his skin was smooth and unmarred. He was used to the numbness left by the scars. It was not until Kendra’s touch did he realize what he was missing. Her energy bypassed the numbness. It grew the longer their hands were connected, eliciting both excitement and uneasiness.

  The warmth spread into his chest and settled into his soul. Having been alone most of his life, he closed his eyes reveling in the fullness in his heart. Fearful of a foe exploiting his weakness for a woman, he had never let anyone get close. He exhaled a heavy breath and turned to look at the woman who seemed to have captured his heart.

  Kendra stared toward the heavens. His gaze shifted to her lips. Everything about her was perfect, only small compared to him. He let go of her hand, shifted onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. A long curled stand of her hair stuck to the path of wetness left by her silent tears. It bothered him to see her reaction to Bakari. Jealous of their blood-bond, he would give anything to have it for himself. Or find a way to break it.

  She turned to look at him, when he brushed the strand away. His touch lingered greedily, wanting more than friendship. He returned his hand to his side. “Are you okay?”

  Kendra smiled. “Yeah, just…,” she paused and looked away. Bomani grasped her hand again and caressed his thumb against her soft skin.

  “Do you think I’m weak?”

  His mouth hung open, unsure of what to say. He stared at the petite hand that he caressed gently. To him, she seemed so fragile, like an expensive glass vase that needed to be wrapped and concealed in a protective case. “What do you mean?”

  “My sisters are always saying I’m not strong enough to go on missions. I don’t blame them for saying it. I’m afraid of the dark. I’m accident prone. I think I’ve broken about every bone in my body in the last twenty-two years.” She sighed.

  “Strength comes in many different forms. It does not have to be physical strength that defines one as weak or powerful. There are warriors smaller than me that have extraordinary power. What they lack in size they make up for in other ways. Will power. Devotion. Loyalty. Honor.”

  She turned on her side. “I can’t defend myself. I have no powers, nor strength.”

  “You do not need to worry.” He dared to trace the line of her jaw with his fingertip. “I will protect you.”

  “But…”

  He silenced her with his fingertip to her lips. “I will protect you,” he spoke from his heart. Despite his words, fear and sorrow penetrated her eyes. She broke his contact by rolling onto her back and staring to the heavens.

  “Who will protect Bakari?” she asked on whispered breath.

  Bomani slumped onto the blanket. Who indeed?

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Bright red blood dripped into a small puddle on the floor from Bakari’s mouth. The last punch slammed his
teeth together. His internal defense triggered an involuntary physical response, elongating his teeth and nails. Something that only happened to full-blooded, Underworld gods. He suppressed his instinctual changes or the ruse would be revealed. He pushed himself up onto his knees for the fiftieth time. Hell, he had lost count.

  Sin grabbed under his arm and yanked him up. The fledgling pushed him toward his cot. “What the hell do you think you are doing? The objective is to stay alive, not make yourself a training bag.”

  “Get away from me,” Bakari snarled. He was alive and that was the problem. He wanted to feel the pain because that is all he had. A familiar friend, but he had yet to break the threshold he had long grown tolerant of and would continue to get up and receive a beating in order to match it.

  “At least throw a gods damn punch or you will find yourself back in the primordial soup from which you came,” Sin growled back and dared to lay a restraining hand on Bakari’s chest.

  The leader of the welcoming party pushed Sin out of the way and grabbed Bakari by the shirt. The senior warrior’s knuckles were bloody and bruised from the beating he gave Bakari. “We have been at this for over an hour. Why do you not stay down? It would make it easier on both of us.”

  Bakari stared at the warrior with disinterest. Like his existence, he planned to wait it out and then crawl right back into his cave. He wanted to be left alone.

  The warrior slammed his fists into Bakari’s chest and snarled, “Too good to speak to us, odjit?” Bakari staggered back, his calves bumping into the cot. Fury ignited in the warrior’s eyes, obviously frustrated with Bakari’s apathy and unwillingness to submit.

  The one-sided fight drew the attention of the entire legion. Warriors gathered around Bakari and the five assailants. Bakari never intended to become a spectacle. Some in the crowd hooted and hollered encouragement, while the larger majority had murderous looks in their eyes. Damn his brother who could not leave well enough alone.