by Zoe Forward
As he stepped through the portal the air around him contracted as if his massive presence sucked it into his vortex of power. He wore the same clothes as before, when he’d gotten her out of the Hashishin facility. Loose dark trousers and the shirt Javen lent him, both wrinkled with a few tears.
Zannis’s face tightened. In her mind he asked, What is this? An inquisition?
Astrid waved at the others, refusing to move from her seat. The bulky table separating them helped her delusion of safety. “I was recruited to be in this group to enable you to cross into this world. They want you to kill a particular daemon. Well, technically, the gods want you to do this, not just them.”
“Way to sell it,” Javen grumbled beside her.
Zannis needed alone time with Astrid to set things straight. Not an eight magi inquest. And one teenager, he amended. The door to the meeting chamber was locked, which made this a magus-only assembly. He drew forth seichim to assess the powers of each magus surrounding Astrid. Powers were easily detected and assigned. Their energies swirled—unfocused, turbulent, and borderline chaotic. The most roily, probably a newly inducted magus, wouldn’t meet his gaze. Lightning. He considered both the Ghost-sighter and Lightning’s facial jewelry, wondering why they’d put such easy pain targets on the face.
“You seem pretty in-control, unlike what I’ve heard you used to be like,” Ashor said.
“You would be?” Zannis asked.
“Ashor.”
“The Prime.” Zannis noted the small blade the Prime Magus gripped. A threat. As if that wimpy knife would stop him should he choose to attack. He seesawed his front teeth while formulating a diplomatic reply. “I have had a long time to meditate upon my actions.”
Ashor nodded. “As Astrid said, we’ve been instructed to ask you to help us kill a daemon or at least send him back to his realm.”
“Which daemon?” Why did he ask? As if there would be more than one bastard sly enough to require he be recruited.
“Djoser,” Ashor confirmed.
Anger surged as the past replayed in his brain. The kem-seki swelled in his mind, pushing him to commit wanton destruction. Get control. You shall not lose it. Focus on her.
Zannis examined Astrid, taking in the baggy, unflattering clothes, the sleek line of her long neck and the blonde strands softly curling down her back. The kem-seki didn’t ramp down, but it shifted gears. Blood swelled his groin. The need to dominate and be deep inside her roared in his skull. In his youth, he’d have been humiliated to be at the front and center with a hard-on. Right now, all he wanted was to avoid another Hashishin murder spree. And he wanted her. Hard and fast.
Her cheeks flared with color.
He suppressed a smile. At least her mind wasn’t entirely closed to him. Her chin went up, challenging. Damn, that was sexy. He asked in her mind, Do you wish us to speak privately, or do you desire that we speak openly about the past?
“At least with everyone here if you try to skewer me again, I think one of them might stop you.”
Fury surged, eclipsing desire. That fucking daemon. In her mind he said, I did not intend to do that.
She shot back, Your intent seemed pretty clear when you rammed your sword through my chest.
The juvenile magus said, “Years ago with Djoser right before you went a little crazy, I don’t understand how he survived your initial attack. You stabbed him properly in the chest. Yet, it didn’t work. It didn’t even slow him down. What happened to you after he tried to possess you, and then you pulled him out? Did Djoser do something to you when he was inside you? That seemed like your turning point.”
Zannis squinted at the teenager. “Cyrus? Did you find yourself cursed? Why are you trapped in a child’s body?”
“I got past-life recall a bit early when the prophesy got fulfilled. Remember Aileen?”
The other prophesy that Aileen bitch foretold. At least that one wasn’t about him. “Djoser…did he get anything from you during your capture?”
“Only half of my leg.”
Zannis inclined his head. Cy wouldn’t want pity.
“What happened that day with Djoser?” Cy asked again.
The worst moment of his existence replayed through his mind. “Someone from the gods’ realm switched my sword. When I chest stabbed Djoser, it was ineffective since the blade held no magik. Djoser was able to enter my body. I assume he is still more adept than the other daemons at possessing humans. He gained more control over me than others who attempted such foolishness. He controlled my body for a short time, but not my mind.”
“I saw you pull him from your body,” Cy said.
“What?” Ashor asked. “That’s not possible.”
Cy pointed at Zannis. “He’s the only one of us that has figured out how to physically pull a daemon from his body when it tries to enter him. It’s brilliant.”
“I’d love to learn that trick,” Khyan said. “Why’d you go nuts, then, after you got him out? Was it kem-seki overload? You go into the Turn. Or you finally get sick of all this bullshit?”
Zannis gritted out, “This is not bullshit. You should get on bended knee and pray for forgiveness for such blasphemy.”
“You were always such a gods’ ass kisser.” Khyan rolled his eyes.
“Do you forget the honor bestowed upon us? We were the elite, hand-picked by the gods to be the guardians of the Human Realm.”
Khyan snorted. “We were chosen because we were their bastard offspring, and they wanted to keep us around to torment forever. Apparently, you forgot the no-killing-humans rule.”
Rage poured into his bloodstream. The dragons swirled viciously screaming for freedom. He stalked to the smug Khyan who jumped up and stood his ground.
Zannis gritted out, “You question my commitment to the vows?”
“For someone who was always so damned religious, you did go a little nutso.” Khyan smirked and made circular motions near his temple.
Zannis wrapped his fist around Khyan’s throat and pushed him backward into the wall. A dark tattoo covered Khyan’s face—his bochnori. As if the creature could do anything to him. “Djoser took control of my body and sent my blade into the chest of the woman who I suspect is my senariai. Then the bastard laughed when her hot blood sprayed my face. I recall little after that.”
Khyan struggled to get out, “Didn’t know.”
A delicate hand gently pulled at his wrist. “Stop.” You’re hurting him, Zannis.
The red haze of kem-seki ramped down in his mind when Astrid’s glassy eyes met his. He didn’t release Khyan but held Astrid’s gaze. “My weakness almost killed you.”
“I…I didn’t know,” she whispered.
“I know you did not.” His interest returned to Khyan, whose throat remained contained within his fist. The tattoo focused its energy on his hand. “If you order your bochnori against me, I might release my pets on you. Then we can see who wins, but I wager on the dragons.” He released Khyan who slid down the wall coughing. Zannis caught Dakar’s gaze. “Your brother is still an ass.”
Dakar shrugged and granted him an apologetic smile.
Zannis asked, “Why is everyone’s energy so…unbalanced? Did I miss the focus prayer?”
“Prayer?” Ashor asked with a confused shrug.
“Dakar? Cyrus? Does not one of you lead the worship?”
Both cast their gazes downward. Dakar’s cheeks reddened.
“Have you not taught the ones of no memory the Old Language and prayers?”
Khyan rubbed his throat and choked out hoarsely, “It’s boring. We seemed to be doing okay when I got my memory back and—”
“Dakar, you are the only one whose energy is closer to peace. Have you been praying?” Zannis interrupted.
“I have.” Dakar nodded.
“Because it helps you attain the calm necessary to control our abilities. None of us can hope to attain complete control of our gods-granted gifts without proper veneration.” He shot a castigating gaze at Khyan and Cyrus.
“Our duty is not just to kill daemons, but also to keep the spirit of the gods alive in this realm. They might lose interest in us, and humans, without proper reverence. This is part of why we were granted memory.”
“I don’t think the sacrificial animal thing would go over well in this century.” Khyan massaged his throat.
Zannis said, “Times and customs do change. They may understand some moderation in our prayer. We need the gods far more than they need us. Once reincarnated, prayer should help you find control faster. Based on recent experience all of you should also commit to memory the underworld stories, in case you get cast there. They should be in the text.” When only blank stares came back at him he added, “The Thutmose Treatise? Does it not still exist?”
Ashor nodded.
Dakar said, “I was in the Middle Realm, but not the duats. They didn’t send you…”
“They did. They sent me down there only recently. Let us move immediately to the incantation of Isis?” And I hope to hell it’ll bring the kem-seki shitstorm in my brain under control.
Dakar nodded. He and Cy joined him in the prayer.
Nehes, nehes, nehes, (Awake, awake, awake)
Nehes em hotep, (Awake in peace)
Nehes em rouhiu, (Lady of peace)
Nebet hotepet (Rest thou in peace)
Weben em hotep, (Rise thou in beauty)
Weben em rouhiu, (Goddess of Life)
Nutjert en Ankh, (Beautiful in heaven)
Rouhi em Pet! (Heaven is in peace)
Pet em hotep, (Earth is in peace)
Ta em hotep, (O goddess)
Nutjert sat Nut, (Daughter of Nut)
Sat Geb, Merit Auser, (Daughter of Geb, Beloved of Osiris)
Nutjert Asha-renu! (Goddess rich in names!)
Anekh hrak. (All praise to You.)
Anekh hrak (All praise to You)
Tuar atu, Tuar atu, (I adore you, I adore you)
Nebet Aset! (Lady Isis)
After a few moments of silence Zannis asked to all in general, “Why do you send Astrid to battle daemons?”
Dakar replied, “Astrid is one of us. This is her life now.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not able to handle myself?” Astrid challenged Zannis.
“I am certain you are more than capable. But you are the single greatest gift the gods have bestowed upon us. We should not risk your loss to fight a daemon that any one of us could dispatch.”
“I have no powers beyond being able to bring you here,” she said.
Khyan shrugged as if to say, Exactly.
Zannis said, “Think you mine is the only portal you can open?”
“What does that mean?” Ashor asked.
Zannis met Ashor’s gaze. “I meditated upon why the gods would push Astrid to be a magus when she was already destined to be with us as my senariai.” We need to discuss that…later, he said to her telepathically. To Ashor he said, “I believe Astrid is a gift from the gods—an effort to aid us in this vastly expanded world. What has always been our greatest weakness?”
Dakar interjected, “Travel.
Zannis nodded. “To reach the daemon before it annihilates all life. I imagine with the expanded human population, the world is monstrous and difficult for us to navigate.”
Ashor said, “Let me get this straight. We send Astrid ahead of us and then she can transport us through a doorway?”
“I believe she needs travel nowhere. She remains here, protected in the way of the akhrian. She can open a doorway through which we pass to where we must go to fight,” Zannis said. At least he hoped that’s how it worked. The thought of her fighting or close to a daemon didn’t sit right with him.
Astrid picked at a dead cuticle on her ring finger.
Christian said in an awed tone, “Imagine being able to get back to the akhrian immediately.”
“We’d be able to heal faster, remain stronger and…perhaps not lose so many of us,” Ashor said.
Zannis nodded.
“Hold on. I can’t do that,” Astrid said.
“None of us know how our gifts work when first inducted. You can learn,” Ashor said in a patronizing tone.
Zannis bit back a smile when Astrid scowled a clear fuck-you at Ashor.
“Thank you…Draggon? Do you prefer this name?” Ashor asked.
“It suits.” Zannis blew out a long exhale. “I shall attempt to kill Djoser.” Anguish warred with fury in his mind. “This time I shall endeavor to remove him permanently from this realm.”
Ashor nodded. Every male in the room threw him hard agreement.
Astrid wouldn’t look at him. Her mind seemed closed. Fury surged that Djoser had not only destroyed both of their lives, but also her trust in him. The kem-seki surged, pushing him to wildness. He knew this edge. And couldn’t risk going loco in the human realm again. When this happened years ago, he’d rampaged against Hashishins. Who knew what would happen now? “Send me back, Astrid. Please.”
Astrid’s gaze slowly slid to his. “No.” Mentally, she added, We, as in the two of us, are not done here.
Chapter Ten
Alone. With Zannis. Seconds was all it took for the other guys to disappear in unspoken understanding.
Suddenly he stood inches away from her. The heat coming off his body surrounded her as if she were in front of a furnace.
Her heart pounded in her chest at the realization of the epic misunderstanding. He hadn’t meant to kill her. Some daemon had forced him.
He didn’t mean it, she said it again to herself, rolling the words in her mind like they were a foreign language. She regarded her emotions like staring into a stranger’s face, and taking note of the imperfections for no other reason that it was there to be observed.
Her hate and resentment of Zannis, perfected over years, were now groundless. Gone. That slow burn of fury had been a reliable friend. Somehow she felt deserted to realize she was vulnerable to feeling something other than those familiar emotions. Real fear closed in on her brain. She refused to be vulnerable to that soul-searing instant love again.
Based on his dilated pupils she knew he was going to take her lips, and perhaps take her to that somewhere else that only he’d ever been able to accomplish. She’d probably let him.
Air hissed out of his mouth. Silence stretched out between them.
His arm linked around the back of her waist and jerked her into him. Air refused to move through her lungs. Her heart pounded a mixture of terror and desire for the raw sex Zannis promised.
His large hand raked through her hair, tugging her head into a stinging grip. She didn’t fight out of fear a struggle would rip the strands. Her spine arched, following the tug of his hand in her hair until only the brace of his arm at her back supported her.
She shouldn’t want him to kiss her so desperately. But she did. She needed the connection with him. And the edge he brought to the table.
His lips brushed hers gently, a tease. A quest for entrance.
A whimper escaped her throat. A goddamned whimper.
Astrid pressed herself tight to him and wound her hands around his neck, playing with the soft golden strands in the area. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. His unique blend of spice, sex, and forbidden exploded on her taste buds. But his gentleness irritated her.
He groaned and lifted her so that her legs encircled his waist. His heavy arousal pressed tight through the PJ pants. Heat speared her lower belly, spreading like a wildfire through the rest of her.
His slow pelvic rocking was going to make her come. This wasn’t enough. She needed his hands on her. His mouth.
As if reading her mind, he moved them to the table and eased her down. He pushed up the pullover and T-shirt to tease one nipple with his mouth, and then the other. He was too controlled.
She yanked his head from her chest and pulled his gaze to hers. “I don’t want it this way. I want you real.” She pulled his head to hers and bit his lower lip.
He growled and his body tensed. “I refuse to hurt you.
”
“I’m not breakable.”
The breath rushed out of her when his hard body collided with hers. He swept her hair aside and fastened his mouth onto the side of her neck, sucking. Her heart rate soared. She whimpered and ground her pelvis against him.
He broke away to maneuver clothes off her body. One yank and he had her shirt off, baring her to the cool air. He leered in a mischievous way that had her core clenching.
His hot breath gushed across her shoulder before his mouth moved over each breast, sucking her nipples tight, rolling them on his tongue. A moan ripped out of her.
His hands left her and then tugged at her pants—oh, God, yes.
He traced the numerous new tattoos now marking her skin. His gaze darkened. His mind lit up with the need for vengeance.
“Don’t go there,” she said hoarsely. “I’m not and you shouldn’t. Just don’t. Not right now.”
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned into her. “These marks of courage…if I could’ve been there…”
She cupped his face in her hands to bring his gaze to hers. “I’m fine. You have many more of these marks than I do. What caused them is in the past for both of us. Focus on what’s going on right now.”
He let his palms drift slowly down her ribs and hips. His fingertips slid through her swollen, slippery folds. Electric jolts flew through her. She arched against his touch, trying to get those fingers right where she needed them.
“Look at me,” he ordered. With his free hand he moved one of her thighs over his shoulder.
She met his gaze.
“You want me here?” he asked as a finger slowly thrust into her. She sighed as he slid in another finger, and cried out as he pushed them deep and brushed her clit with his thumb.
“Yes,” she gasped out. He slid in a third finger and she stilled. It was all she could do to strangle out, “Please…I need you.”
“I’ll take care of you, rouhi. Long and hard like you need it. But not here.” Not now.
She heard his thought loud and clear in her mind. She moaned, grinding against his hand. “Why not?”
“We cannot. Not with the gods waiting for us or me to do this. I refuse to fulfill their prophesy.”