“Very well. Tarissa, Andres, Ichtaca, back away. Emma’s orders. She means it!”
The ocelot turned and padded to Felani’s side, rubbing its velvety head against Emma’s hand; the bigger jaguar coughed, shook its head, and backed away, but the smaller jaguar remained frozen in place, its gold-green eyes intent upon Kahotep.
The jackal snarled wetly. The jaguar rumbled in response. Felani made a strangled little yowl of frustration and stomped over to them.
“Ichtaca, stand down.” Her voice was deep and full, her shoulders hunched forward, her legs and arms stiff, challenge and threat in every line of her little body. Emma marveled — Ichtaca had to outweigh her by over a hundred pounds, but the jaguar turned its head, laid its ears flat, and slunk away, tail whipping back and forth. The ocelots might be physical lightweights, but they were ancients — Felani outranked most of the jaguars even on a bad day.
Light flashed to Emma’s left as Andres took human form again, looking like some Aztec statue carved of amber in the leaping torchlight. His long black hair hung in his face, damp with sweat. He winked at Emma, smirking as he walked over to where Ichtaca was pacing. Physically, the man looked like a god, and he knew it.
Kahotep took the hint and changed. He stayed where he was, backed up against the wall near the statue of Osiris, eyeing everyone warily. His gaze lit on Emma.
“I swear I did nothing to harm you. I don’t understand — one moment you were looking faint, and then you quoted the scripture, and then you fell.” He opened his mouth, shut it again, shook his head.
“That’s when these guys came in, right?”
Kahotep nodded, eyes sliding to Fern. Fern came to his feet and stood behind Emma.
“Do you have any idea what you did to us?” Fern’s breath was hot on the back of Emma’s neck, his mind burning against hers. The rage had simmered down, but it wasn’t dead.
Kahotep looked panicked and confused.
“The shielding magic,” Telly said. He sounded almost as angry as Fern felt. Kahotep looked at him.
“The shielding… it was built into the temple, almost nine thousand years ago, designed to keep the secret way to the inner sanctum safe.” He glanced nervously from Telly to Fern and back again. “In an emergency, a siege, the public route to this chamber can be collapsed, but the chamber itself is fortified with magic. I wanted to speak to Emma, alone. I did not intend to hurt her, or force her to do anything.”
Emma felt Fern take a deep breath, and she spoke before he could. “There’s more. He says Khai’s sanctuary is full of bolt-holes like that one.”
Kahotep nodded furiously. “Nowhere in the royal sanctuary is safe, except the roof perhaps. Nothing can shield against magic in open air.”
Andres grunted. “Great. It’s a security nightmare.”
“It’s more than that,” said Telly. He pinned Kahotep with his pale eyes. “We can’t afford for Emma and Fern to get separated like that again. She collapsed because her life-force is bound to Fern’s, and their minds are linked. Any longer and they both would have gone mad.”
Kahotep swallowed, looking ill. “I had no idea.” His voice was harsh, broken.
Telly just stared at him. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t think. And it’s what you don’t think of that can get you killed, Kahotep.” Telly cast a shrewd eye over Emma. “You’re lucky you didn’t hurt her, jackal prince. Very fucking lucky.”
Kahotep had the grace to look ashamed, but he kept his chin high. “She is not without her own defenses. Perhaps you underestimate her.”
Emma frowned. Telly arched an eyebrow and walked up to Kahotep, peering at his face; there was a faint bruise blossoming like a five-o’clock shadow to the right of his chin. It took a hell of a lot to bruise a shapechanger, Emma had learned from watching the guards spar at the ranch — they wounded, but bruises didn’t take a lot of healing. Kahotep would probably be good as new by the time they were out of the temple, but it was damn slow for one of his kind.
Telly looked back at Emma, the ghost of a grin on his face.
“Did you hit him?”
“Twice,” said Kahotep.
“Oh, yeah.” Andres whistled appreciatively.
“Very funny.” Emma turned her back on them all and started searching for her tent-peg. “Shouldn’t we be discussing something serious, like what to do about the pledge and the serpent priest and —”
“Why you’re suddenly reading hieroglyphics that you can’t actually understand?”
Emma shot Fern a dark look. “It’s not polite to snatch things out of my mind. And I’ve probably just seen the symbols somewhere and don’t remember it.” She sighed. “Okay, that was lame. But there’s no rational explanation. It’s probably just some random, mumbo-jumbo crap — hanging around with you people, I’m getting used to it.”
“Mumbo-jumbo…?” Kahotep frowned. Felani waved a hand in the air and rolled her eyes, mouthing ‘Americans’ at him.
“I saw that.” She pointed at Felani. “Shouldn’t you people be getting dressed? Or did you all poof your clothing like Kahotep did?”
“Poof?” Kahotep frowned again.
“What are you, a parrot?” Emma inwardly cursed at herself. “Sorry. That was rude.” She hung her head and pretended to be occupied with belting her makeshift weapon into its sheath. She could feel their eyes on her — all of them staring, and worrying, and wondering if the next time she was in trouble, they might not get there in time.
Or maybe that was just Fern.
“Our clothes are outside in the passageway,” said Fern. “We had the presence of mind to take them off first.” He turned to Kahotep, who was watching them all as though surprised he was still alive, and gave the prince a worried once-over. “I don’t know what your guards are going to think when you walk out there naked with a bruise on your chin.”
Kahotep seemed to shake himself. “I have robes here. It’s convenient when you want to escape the palace on four legs but return on two. And the bruise will have faded — hopefully.” Glancing around at the guards, he moved very slowly toward an alcove behind the great statue of Osiris. Andres watched him. Ichtaca’s lips peeled back in a silent grimace, exposing huge, wicked teeth. Emma had to remind herself that none of the guards were actually more aggressive in cat form — they were just as pissy and quick to anger when they were on two legs — it just seemed that way because the cats could be frickin’ scary.
She walked away from them, coming to stand in front of the statue of Nephthys. Her blank eyes were somehow comforting. Eyes that didn’t see Emma, weren’t looking at her, weighing, judging, waiting. Her blank face wanted nothing from anyone — perhaps it was the patience and indifference of death, if Nephthys was a goddess of the underworld. Emma didn’t know.
Telly came to stand behind her, and she heard him do it, which meant he was making noise just so that she wasn’t startled. He didn’t always remember to do that.
“Kahotep thinks you are Isis incarnate.” He spoke softly.
Emma took a deep breath. Telly was close enough that her shoulder blade brushed his chest as she moved. “How do you know that?”
She felt him shrug. “Aside from the fact that the scriptures on these walls tell of such a myth, and you can read them, and Kahotep looks at you as though you hold the key to the salvation of his entire race — which you may or may not do…” He chuckled. “Aside from all that, Alexi read his mind when Kahotep first offered the pledge.”
Emma whipped her head around to look at him. “First, I can’t read the hieroglyphics, I just read a few words and I don’t remember how I did it — and second, if Alexi read Kahotep’s mind, then why the hell didn’t he read Nathifa’s and warn us about her attack, or hey, maybe read Khai’s mind and find out where the serpent priest is?”
Telly wrapped an arm around her, and ignored her when she made a token attempt to shrug it off. “Nathifa’s mind was full of the desire to see you dead — but she thought she could kill you in the fight,
so she wasn’t thinking of attacking you later. And Khai’s mind is impenetrable; he’s not young, Emma, not like Nathifa and Kahotep. All of our jaguars are older than those two, even Ichtaca, the youngest.”
”And how old is he?”
“Just over two hundred, though he acts like he’s barely twenty-one. Emma.” He turned her to face him, dropping his voice. “Gods and goddesses do not incarnate. They interfere, and they can give you things — pieces of themselves or their power.” He took her right hand in his, turning it over and tracing the black starburst-tattoo with a callused finger. “Like this.”
Emma arched an eyebrow. “What about you?”
Telly looked surprised. “I am not a god incarnate. I am a god who walks.” He said it as though it explained everything.
“What’s the difference?”
He frowned, smiling at the same time. It made him look uncertain and young. “I forget.” He shook his head. “I keep forgetting you’re human.” The look in his eyes solidified until there was something heavier behind it. He’d gone from being surprised to thinking about things Emma didn’t want to know.
“Well?”
He blinked — it was his way of shaking himself. “I walk, because it is what I am. There used to be many more like me, but not now." He closed his eyes for a moment, and the beast moved through him like a shadow, then was gone. "I can’t hop from one corporeal form to another, and neither can any other god or goddess.” He paused, studying her face to see if she was following. Following, sure, but understanding?
Telly went on. “Any immortal being that does not exist on this physical plane can temporarily inhabit the body of a mortal who does, but that is possession. It’s not the same as incarnating. Gods do not, cannot incarnate. I’m not saying that Kahotep and his ancestors are wrong, just a little mistaken. The power of the caller of the blood might be the same power Isis wields, or any other god or goddess — it might come from them, or it might call them — but it doesn’t mean what Kahotep thinks it means.”
Emma looked into his eyes, searched his face — a face both young and older than dirt, tawny skin smooth but creased with deep laugh lines. His changeable eyes were softer than usual, powder-blue. Something in her eased — something that had been pushed right up to the edge. There were still questions, but she could deal with them. Or someone else could.
“What about the hieroglyphics?” Emma glanced up at the walls, column after column of indecipherable symbols and drawings. She recognized none of it now.
Telly breathed a noisy sigh. “I don’t know. But I might be able to find out.” Something in his tone made Emma look at him. His gaze was turned inward. When his focus came back to her, the look in his eyes was too intent for Emma’s peace of mind.
“Telly.” Kahotep’s voice startled them both, and as one they turned. Kahotep regarded them warily as he approached, and Emma realized with a jolt that she was standing mere inches away from Telly, and he still had his hands wrapped possessively around her shoulders. She stepped away as Felani and Fern joined her, still naked, tension in the corded muscles of their bodies.
They didn’t trust Kahotep, and Emma didn’t blame them.
Kahotep inclined his head toward Telly. “I would speak with you and your guards, here, before we return. Emma was not the only reason I wanted privacy.”
Emma caught a flash of white out of the corner of her eye as Ichtaca stalked into view on two legs, human and obviously still unhappy about not getting to rip into the jackal prince — not to mention getting taken down a notch by Felani. He scowled at Kahotep.
“We are not his guards.” Ichtaca jerked his chin at Telly, lip curling, too preoccupied with his face-saving show of machismo to notice Andres padding up behind him. “We serve the jaguar king, not this-”
“Shut up, cub,” Andres rumbled, and smacked the back of Ichtaca’s head with an open hand, ignoring his snarl, sauntering past to stand next to Kahotep. “We serve whoever leads us best, in the interest of our king.” He nodded curtly at Telly, then Emma. “I’m not guarding the king’s body, so right now, I’m not serving him.” He smiled and settled back onto his heels, crossing his arms over his chest. Emma stifled her own smile.
Telly arched a brow and settled his attention on Kahotep. “You said there are bolt-holes all over the king’s sanctuary. Do you know where they are?”
Kahotep looked nervous. “Yes, but not all of them, and there’s no way of telling you where they are or what to look for — a map would be pointless, the inside of the palace is a maze — if you got turned around once —”
“We have ways around that,” Telly said, quietly cutting Kahotep off. “Later, you can tell me about it in detail and let me worry about how useful the information is.” Kahotep nodded, looking calmer just for hearing Telly’s voice. “Do you know where Khai is holding the serpent priest?”
Kahotep’s laugh was bitter. “I know where Khai wants me to think the serpent priest is — but he’s not there. It is a trap. I investigated it myself.”
Emma held up a hand. “Wait, Khai leaked information to you, in the hopes that you would pass it on to us — and then what?”
Felani growled beside her. “And then the jaguars would go to rescue the serpent priest, die, and leave you defenseless against Khai.”
Kahotep nodded. “Now you see why I have gone to such trouble to speak with you all, alone. But there is more. He has men in Kharga, waiting should your king arrive. They are not there to guide the jaguar king to our sanctuary.”
Andres swore, and Emma’s mouth went dry. Seshua was their back-up plan. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d been banking on him arriving and taking over in that infuriating, arrogant way of his. Maybe he would never have come in time — Kal still hadn’t sensed him, but how far did the connection between Seshua and his lieutenant stretch? They wouldn’t know until Kal confirmed that he was near.
“Khai has eyes and ears everywhere,” said Kahotep, looking grim. “If we are lucky, my guards will think that I brought you down here to make another attempt at pledging myself to Emma.” He looked at her, and one corner of his lovely mouth lifted in a boyish smile that made him look about eighteen years old. “The bruises on my face and sternum should help.” They still weren’t fading.
Emma bit her lip before she apologized. Fern’s laughter brushed her mind. Guess Anton’s training paid off. And here you were thinking you weren’t any good.
She shot him a censuring look from beneath her lashes. There shouldn’t even be bruises at all.
The mark, he sent. Of course. Fern moved closer to her, meeting Kahotep’s eyes.
“What will Khai do when he finds out Emma’s not going to accept the pledge?”
A muscle in Kahotep’s jaw ticked. His brown gaze slid to Emma, and she had to look away.
“I don’t know.” Kahotep’s voice was flat and hard. “He may dismiss you all without handing over the serpent priest. Or he may try to force the matter.”
“You don’t mean the way he tried to force it last night, do you?” Telly sounded like he already knew the answer to that question.
“No. I mean he may threaten your lives. You are only his guests so long as you cooperate.”
“Mmm.” Telly turned away, expression unreadable; he didn’t seem surprised, or concerned.
“Telly?” Emma frowned at him, cocking her head.
He winked at her. “A minute.” He wandered farther away, as though studying the wall of hieroglyphics, but Emma wasn’t fooled. But hey, if he wanted to be mister “I’ve got a secret plan and I’m not gonna tell you,” that was just fine by her. What the hell else was new?
She turned her frown on Kahotep. “You believe that if I accepted the pledge, it would benefit your people, but only if you’re the one offering, right? Because of your bloodline, the connection to your people?”
He blinked at her, throat working. “Yes.”
“And you want to help your people, you don’t want the pledge for personal gai
n?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell does Khai want you to go through with it so badly?”
Kahotep opened his mouth, and then shut it. He blinked a few times. “He’s confident he can control me. I’ve never given him reason to believe otherwise. If he can control me, then he can control the people, and if the people are healthy, happy, they won’t try to contest his leadership.”
It made perfect sense, but it still didn’t sit right — maybe because it seemed like no matter how healthy they were, the jackals couldn’t possibly be happy under Khai’s rule. And why would somebody as selfish and ruthless as Khai want to heal his people? But Kahotep was right: Khai was confident of his control. And he was too selfish to risk that control by making the pledge himself. But Emma still didn’t like it.
“Emma,” Telly called, “Come here. Please.”
She went to him; he stood by the statue of Osiris, staring off into the middle distance, a thoughtful expression pinching his sandy eyebrows together. It would have been cute if she didn’t know that when Telly was having a thought, a big one, it meant something was going to happen — something like the magical equivalent of a train wreck.
“What?” Emma couldn’t help the wariness of her tone.
He looked at her. “Tell me you don’t want to save the serpent priest. Tell me, and I’ll take you away from here, from all of it. Tell me you don’t want it, and it will be over.”
Emma’s throat stung with tears. She swallowed them down. “You know I can’t do that.”
Telly straightened, closing the distance between them. “Why not? Tell me why.” His tone was soft, undemanding, completely unlike his words.
She wanted to demand to know why he was asking her this now; instead, she answered. “Because even if we get away, Seshua can’t protect the jaguars forever. The serpent priesthood will come after them for vengeance. If the others are anything like Alexi, I believe they’ll do it.” She sighed. “I don’t know this serpent priest, and maybe that means I shouldn’t care about him, but it also means I can’t judge him. I can’t say his life is worth nothing, and if it’s worth anything, he deserves for someone to try to help him. We’re all he’s got.” She glanced away from Telly’s scrutinizing focus. “But most of all, I said I would. I said yes, I’d try.”
The Jackal Prince (Caller of the Blood - Book 2) Page 27