Night Child

by Lisa Kessler

  “Just too much to drink.” She reached for Issa’s ankles. “Can you grab his shoulders, and we’ll get him onto the luggage cart?”

  He bent down, sliding his hands under Issa’s arms. He frowned. “This guy’s really cold. Have you checked to be sure he’s still…alive?”

  “Of course he’s alive.” She lied, already walking toward the cart.

  Her assistant didn’t look convinced, but he followed her anyway, bearing the bulk of Issa’s weight. With the Night Walker folded up on the bottom of the luggage cart, Muriah could finally breathe again. “Thank you.”

  “You never saw me.” The man was already at the door.

  “Who?” She answered. He smiled and jogged away.

  Muriah stripped the sheets from the bed and tucked them around her immortal package. She had no idea if it would be enough to protect him from the setting sun, but it had to be better than a fire.

  She grabbed her duffle, double-checking to be sure the codex was still safe inside. About fifteen minutes to sunset. Time to go.

  The cart gained momentum with each stride on the carpeted floor. The fire safety signs warned about taking the stairs instead of the elevators, but there was no way she’d get that cart down from the fourteenth floor. She’d have to risk it.

  When the elevator opened, a lone, wide-eyed woman stood pressed against the back corner. Muriah nodded to her, shoved the cart over the threshold, and hit the button for the lobby.

  The luggage-less woman stared at her with suspicious eyes. “They said to leave everything behind. No luggage is worth your life.”

  Muriah turned to watch the numbers change above the door. “Spout your judgment someplace else. I’m saving a friend from a fire.”

  The doors opened to a fogbank of smoke and beams of flashlights. A gloved hand reached out to her. “What the hell are you doing? This is an evacuation, not a vacation.”

  She sighed and fought the urge to cough. “I’m aware. How do we get out?”

  “Leave the cart and come with me.”

  She lifted the sheet enough for him to see Issa’s wet hair and sleeping face. “The cart comes with me.”

  “Oh shit.” He nodded and helped her pull the cart toward the exit doors. “Does he need medical attention?”

  “I think he just passed out, but I’ll take him over to the ambulance just in case.” Muriah tucked the sheet around Issa again, hiding him from what was left of the sun outside. The police opened a path for her to push the cart away from the building. She tried to keep her head down while still scanning the faces around her. Was Apep watching? He had to be behind the fires. He took out the airports, and now he was trying to flush her out of the hotel.

  She just needed a couple more minutes and Issa would be awake. Avoiding the ambulance, she shoved the cart toward the edge of the crowd near an alleyway and tried to remember to breathe while she watched for any sign of the tattooed man.

  A deep groan rose from under the sheet, followed by a curse in a language she couldn’t place. Issa pulled at the covering, frowning. “Why am I wet?”

  Muriah let out a sigh of relief and pointed at the hotel with smoke billowing from the lobby doors. Colored lights from fire trucks, ambulances, and police cruisers danced around them.

  He met her eyes. “Apep.”

  “Probably.” She kept searching the crowd for the face of the man she’d met in front of her home in Pacific Beach.

  Issa’s cool hand clasped hers. “We need to go.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Apep watched the crowds outside the Millennium Hotel, drinking in the intoxicating energy of panic. Hundreds of people were now evacuated, but no sign of the female with the codex. Patience.

  Movement by the door caught his eye. A fireman assisted a woman with a luggage cart. She kept her face lowered, making it difficult to identify her. He didn’t recognize his quarry until a few minutes later. A tall, dark-haired man stood up from a luggage cart. The God of the West.

  Apep cursed under his breath as he pushed through the crowd, pursuing the Night Walker and the woman with the key to his world domination. He couldn’t let them slip through his fingers now.

  …

  Issa guided Muriah down the alley, her hand hot against his cool skin. The shadows lengthened as dusk settled over the city. Apep’s serpents would be free to roam the darkness soon. He checked over his shoulder, but no one pursued them. Not yet.

  Somehow, Muriah had gotten him out of a burning building. She’d risked her life to save his. It made no sense. She had the codex. She could have saved herself and flown back to the others in San Diego.

  But instead of abandoning him while he was lost to this world, she’d stayed.

  He rubbed his chest and kept moving forward, unsure how to process the information. He should get Muriah to the airport. They had a flight to Egypt to catch. But first he needed dry clothes.

  “Where are we going?”

  The sound of her voice brought him back to the moment. “I am wet. I would like to change that before we go to the airport.”

  “Apep hit the airports, too. Fires and a computer virus in the ticketing system. They’re closed for now. Last I heard, they were hoping to have at least two reopened tomorrow.”

  Another night in New York. Issa ground his teeth, struggling to silence the fragments of thoughts from the mortals in the panicky city. “I still need to change clothes, and then we can decide our next move.”

  “We’re in Times Square. I can’t afford to buy you new clothes here.”

  She stepped up beside him, and he smiled. “I can.”

  Issa focused on every face, keeping watch for Apep or the crimson eyes of his serpents. As they neared a store with casually dressed mannequins, Issa released Muriah’s hand and approached a well-dressed couple as they exited the store. Meeting their eyes, he waited for the familiar blank stares as they succumbed to his will. The man withdrew his leather wallet from his pocket and slipped out all of his cash.

  Issa tucked the money into his damp pocket and whispered, “Remember nothing.”

  The couple hurried off, and he turned to see Muriah with her hip cocked and arms crossed. “You just robbed them.”

  “I did no such thing.” He approached her slowly as masses of mortals moved past them. “I did not threaten or injure them. They gave me their money.”

  “Not of their own free will.”

  He stared at Muriah, doing his best not to smile. “This coming from a woman who makes her money stealing priceless historical artifacts?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not stealing when the artifacts never really belonged to them in the first place. Discovering an ancient tomb doesn’t make everything in it yours. They stole the items first. I just find new owners.”

  Laughter passed his lips before he could rein it in. She raised an unamused brow, and he did his best to sober. “Forgive me. I did not realize there was a difference.”

  She brushed past him toward the bright lights of a Levi’s Store. Issa followed, his tenuous grip on his mental shields faltering. All the mortals around him buzzed about the airports and the hotel fires. If they weren’t talking to someone about it, then they were thinking about it. The constant mental barrage made him edgy. One more night in New York. He had to endure.

  Muriah approached him with a new pair of khakis and a couple of Tshirts. “I guessed at the size so you might want to go try these on first.”

  He took the clothes and slid his arm around her waist, maneuvering her toward the fitting room.

  “Hey, I didn’t sign on to be your dresser.” She grumbled, but didn’t struggle.

  He pulled the door closed and turned to meet her eyes. “It’s light in here and full of people. Apep will not be able to surprise us, and his serpents cannot spy. We need to talk.”

  …

  He stripped off the wet shirt, exposing his chiseled torso. She did her best not to choke on her tongue. His tanned skin and taut muscles tempted her, luring her to t
ouch him. Turning around to give him privacy seemed like the right thing to do, but there wasn’t a hint of modesty in this Mayan god, and if he could handle getting this personal, then she could, too.

  When he unzipped the wet pants, she held her breath. Would an ancient guy wear underwear? She was about to find out. He bent over to lower the wet slacks. When he straightened up, she realized he’d been talking, but she didn’t have a clue what he had said. Instead, all her attention was focused on a fine trail of dark hair leading from just below his navel and disappearing under the low-slung elastic band of his boxer briefs.

  “Muriah?”

  Her gaze snapped up to meet his. Thank the universe he couldn’t read her thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear my question?”

  He stood two feet from her in only his underwear, and he thought she was listening? He was either completely unaware of his sex appeal, or he was way too accustomed to being obeyed.

  Probably both.

  She cleared her throat. “I must’ve missed it.”

  A spark lit his eyes that told her he might have more than a clue to his sex appeal.

  He picked up the T-shirt and pulled it on. “I asked if you knew of another hotel closer to the airport so we can get out of New York as soon as the sun sets tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure I can find one.” She pulled out her phone, grateful to have something to pretend to focus on besides him tucking his package into the new khakis she pulled off the rack for him.

  “I probably should’ve grabbed some dry underwear, too.”

  “They are nearly dry now. I will be fine.” He popped the tags off, and she glanced up from her hotel search. “They’re not going to like you taking the tags off before you pay.”

  The corner of his mouth curved up. “They will be honored to take my money.”

  She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Do you ever not get your way?”

  He stepped closer to her, his chest an inch from hers until her back pressed against the modular wall of the fitting room. “Rarely.” His dark gaze held hers, and the deep rumble of his voice sent heat through her body. “But some things are worth the extra effort.”

  She wet her lips, enjoying the way his hungry eyes watched her. Power was a heady aphrodisiac, and knowing she had some power with an ancient Night Walker was definitely turning her on.

  It would be just like her to forget what happened on the plane and take him right here in a fitting room, following her urges instead of thinking with her head. Just like the other “wrong” guys she brought into her life. What happened to wanting more from her life?

  She needed to think further ahead than what might feel good right now. Okay who was she fooling…there was no might about it.

  Muriah cleared her throat and broke eye contact. “We should go pay and grab a cab.”

  He caught her chin, forcing her attention back up to his face. “You risked your life for me today. Why?”

  …

  “Because you couldn’t protect yourself.”

  His battered, scarred heart stuttered in his chest. He searched for the right words and came up empty. How could he express the strange emotions she churned within him? Without thinking, he tipped her chin and pressed his lips to hers, tender and lingering.

  This attraction was dangerous, threatening his tenuous hold on his thirst, his sanity, his heart. Muriah kept drawing him into the world, challenging him to see himself apart from his station. She tempted him to care…risky. Madness lay at the end of that path for an immortal.

  His attraction for Ch’en a millennia before this one had been different. He admired her dedication to their people and worshipped her beauty, but she’d never returned his attentions. She’d also never disarmed him with strange questions, systematically piercing the battered armor around his ancient heart.

  And no one other than his immortal brothers had ever risked their lives to save his.

  He broke the kiss and straightened. “Thank you for getting me out of the hotel while I slept.”

  Her pulse raced, throbbing along the tender line of her throat. Thirst mingled with lust, teasing his senses until his fangs lengthened.

  She broke eye contact and reached for the door. “You’re welcome. I’m pretty sure you would have done the same for me.”

  He took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Without hesitation.”

  She stared into his eyes, leaving him guessing. It was maddening not to be able to hear her thoughts. After a few thousand years in the Yucatan where a loincloth was his full dress, he hadn’t realized how his changing clothes would affect her. Modesty would never be used to describe him, but he hadn’t intended to make her uncomfortable.

  Regardless of her dismissive words, her pulse revealed she wanted him. She didn’t resist his kiss, but hidden secrets lingered in her gaze.

  Secrets that should be none of his concern.

  Issa followed her out and approached the cash register. He handed over the tags from the clothes he wore. The employee frowned for a moment until he made eye contact. Without conscious thought, Issa mesmerized him and completed the transaction using the cash in his pocket. The man even gave Issa an empty bag for his wet clothes.

  As they headed for the door, Muriah finally spoke. “Why even bother to pay? He would’ve done anything you suggested.”

  “I never take from those who cannot afford to give.”

  “And the couple coming out?”

  “Anyone who carries over four hundred dollars in their pocket can give up the money without mourning the loss. An employee who will be blamed for missing merchandise cannot.”

  She pondered his explanation before finally nodding. “I can accept that.”

  “Did you locate a hotel?” He was already watching for Apep and his serpents.

  When Muriah didn’t answer, he glanced her way and found her gawking at a large sign that read WICKED. He frowned. “What is it?”

  She shook her head, breaking the trance. “Sorry. I guess it didn’t hit me until now that we’re actually here, on Broadway.”

  Confusion creased his brow. “Have you been on this street before?”

  “Broadway is the big time for theater, and I’ve never seen Wicked.”

  He looked up at the sign again, finally understanding the green woman on the sign. “This is the wicked witch from Oz.”

  A smile lit up her face. “Exactly. I’d love to see it someday.”

  Seeing joy sparkle in her eyes was like a drug. He wanted more. “Why not now?”

  “What?” She looked up at him. “A crazy Egyptian God of Chaos is after us, remember?”

  She was right. His idea was risky, but Apep was emptying hotels searching for them. Would he think to look in a theater? Probably not. And if Apep’s serpents wandered into the shadows of a theater, they would only hear the actors.

  “I remember.” Issa nodded. “I can keep you safe, or I would not have suggested it.”

  “When the lights go down, his serpents will be able to get inside and look for us.”

  “The beasts are blind. They will hear the show, not us.” Issa shrugged off her concern, but he would remain alert, watchful for the telltale red eyes.

  “We don’t have tickets.”

  “We will buy some.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yes.” He gestured to the phone in her hand. “You can find a hotel and have Lukas get a reservation. We will check in after the theater.”

  “This is crazy.”

  She was right. Completely insane and risky, but seeing her eyes light up made him incapable of thinking clearly. He should be hiding her, but Apep expected as much. Concealing Muriah in plain sight would be far more effective. And if Apep or his serpents discovered them, he would protect her.

  Today she’d risked her life to save his. Tonight, he would see her smile and know he had something to do with it. He’d never yearned to please a mortal before. A muscle twitched along his jaw. This was uncharted territory.
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  He was here to protect the codex and help Muriah find a spell to entrap Apep.

  He feared he was being lured into a story that would end as all mortal stories did—with death and heartache.

  She signaled a cab and grinned as he opened the door. “I still think this is nuts. But…” she rose up onto her toes, brushing her warm lips on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zafrina awoke to Issa’s voice in her mind. With him in New York, he’d been awake for three hours already. Apparently, Apep was also in New York. He wreaked havoc, and the airports were closed. The good news was Muriah and Issa still had the codex and Apep was after them at least three thousand miles away from Gretchen and the immortal child in her womb.

  Calisto plans to have the private jet ready to leave after sunset.

  Good. Issa paused and added, How is Gretchen’s health?

  Now you use her name? Zafrina sat up, pushing her mental call. Why the sudden care for the mortals?

  His tone stiffened. Is the woman still with child, or can we abandon the rest of this trip?

  There was the indifferent god she knew. She is determined to continue. Her health declines with each day, but for now, they both live.

  He didn’t answer. Zafrina stood and stretched. His voice echoed through her mind once more. Keep her healthy. We will stop Apep.

  She waited, but the connection was broken.

  Calisto’s underground sleeping quarters opened at the face of a cliff on the La Jolla cove. She pulled in a slow breath of the sea air and stared up at the stars. Summoning Issa to come to their aid had been the right choice. She’d been concerned about him at first. He’d seemed weakened by invisible wounds that broke his spirit, but now he sounded committed to the cause. His will to live, to protect their race, was restored. Or at least, she hoped that was the case.

  The lights inside Calisto’s home shone into the darkness, but she didn’t allow herself to be drawn in. Tonight, Kate and Gretchen were making more wedding plans. Lukas would also be at her side.

  Zafrina waded into the salty waves and welcomed her spirit animal to come forward. The air around her charged with energy as her body mutated, shifting into a mammoth alligator. The cool water surrounded her as she pumped her powerful tail into the tide.