Night Child

by Lisa Kessler

  Zafrina brought her finger to her mouth, sinking her fang into the tip. Lori couldn’t take her eyes off her. Her skin was a rich tan, making the lightness of her eyes even more prominent, and seeing her fangs made Lori’s pulse race unexpectedly. She’d never seen Kate or Calisto look anything other than human. This made Night Walkers real, not so easy to pretend they just had a different sleep schedule.

  Zafrina lowered the tip of her finger to the cut on Lori’s mouth. Lori stiffened, but Zafrina traced her full lips anyway.

  “The older we are, the more powerful our blood becomes. We heal faster, and can heal you as well.”

  “It tingles.” Lori’s eyes widened slightly. “This won’t make me…”

  “No.” Zafrina shushed her. “You need to have much more blood to lose your humanity. We drink, then you drink, and the change happens. This will heal your wounds. No more.”

  Lori relaxed. Zafrina’s fingertip healed, and she carefully brushed Lori’s hair back from her forehead. Cool night air caressed the cut at her hairline. “The danger will rise during the daylight now that the monks have a target. We will not be able to help you protect Gretchen while the sun is up.”

  Zafrina pricked her finger again, deeper this time.

  “I’ll hire some security tomorrow. We won’t leave the house again.” Lori winced as Zafrina traced her finger over the wound at her hairline. “It’s only for a few more months.”

  Zafrina sighed and glanced the way the others had gone. When she focused on Lori again, she swore she could hear her speaking, but her lips never moved.

  It will not be for months. Zafrina stared down at her hands. When she lifted her gaze, her ageless face carried lines of worry. You proved yourself today, and I need you to understand what is at risk. I cannot help her during the daylight. You can.

  The voice was whispered directly into her mind. Lori’s eyes widened, and Zafrina pressed a finger to her lips. Her warm lips. “Shh.”

  “But how?”

  Zafrina shook her head. Focus only on me and think your words. I will hear them.

  This is crazy. You can hear my thoughts?

  Zafrina nodded and Lori sat up, her face so very close. Her eyes wandered to Zafrina’s mouth before she could stop herself. Lori lifted her gaze. I do not know how much longer Gretchen’s body will be able to maintain the pregnancy.

  If she loses the baby, you’ll all die. Zafrina nodded slowly, confirming Lori’s fear. Her heart pounded in answer. Tell me how I can help. There must be something I can do.

  You can stay calm for Gretchen. Zafrina took her hand. Lukas’s friend found a Mayan codex. The codex holds the answer I need. Is the child already immortal or does his immortality begin with his first breath? We need to keep Gretchen safe until I can deliver the baby. I tell you this in confidence. I do not wish to frighten the others.

  Zafrina, this ancient Night Walker, was confiding in her. Lori squeezed her hand gently. I won’t say anything. Your secret is safe with me.

  Not quite. Zafrina almost smiled. Meet me later tonight on the beach, and I will show you how to mask your thoughts so the other Night Walkers do not discover the secret I shared.

  Lori nodded. I’ll try not to think about it.

  That will help, but you can learn to shield your mind. Gretchen has become a master at the ability.

  Then I will, too.

  A smile tugged at the corner of Zafrina’s lips. She bridged the gap between them and brushed a kiss to Lori’s cheek, whispering close to her ear, “Thank you.”

  Warmth spread through Lori’s body at the unexpected intimacy. She pulled back, meeting Zafrina’s eyes again. Lori’s healed lips parted. Time slowed.

  “How is the patient?”

  Edie came around the corner, and Lori slipped her hand free from Zafrina’s. “I’m much better. I’d take Zafrina over an emergency room doctor any day.”

  “She will be fine.” Zafrina smiled and rose from the coffee table, her gaze meeting Lori’s. Meet me on the beach.

  …

  Apep shaded his eyes, glaring up at the tower beside the mighty Nile. This behemoth was not part of the shore the last time he’d been to this desert. In fact, much of the skyline was foreign. He hadn’t planned on a homecoming to Egypt. In fact, he’d been purposefully avoiding it. This no longer represented home. Home would never be within the world of man.

  He entered the lobby of the Grand Nile hotel and approached the front desk. It only took one look into the chaos of his eyes for the man to fall to his command. Apep instructed him to look up a reservation for Foundation Arts. The helpful employee located Muriah’s room and even made Apep his own key. The corner of his mouth quirked up. Issa would be useless, unable to protect her. Soon the woman and the codex would be his, and when Issa awakened, he’d be a puppet for Apep to command.

  The elevator made a smooth ascent to the twentieth floor, and he stepped out. Rarely did he experience eager anticipation. It was a delicacy, and he relished it as he slid the keycard into the door. The green light illuminated as the lock disengaged.

  “Honey, I’m home.”

  He stepped inside and frowned. He’d expected at least a scream, a surge of terror to serve as an appetizer for his victory. He stalked into the suite only to find it empty. After a quick inspection of the room and the bathroom, he growled in frustration. No codex and no sign of Muriah or the God of the West. They could be anywhere. He’d lost them and the codex again.

  Rage burned through his veins and into his eyes. He glared at the mirror, agitating the molecules until it shattered.

  “Fuck!”

  …

  Muriah woke up disoriented in the dim, torch-lit room. Rubbing her eyes, she shivered in the cold. She was trapped in a tomb hundreds of feet below the sand of the Sahara Desert. Issa still lay motionless on the bed, covered in only a sheet. Muriah pulled the blanket tighter around her and went to their bags to find something to eat.

  According to her cell phone, her battery was running low, she had no signal, and she still had at least two hours before the sunset. She nibbled on an asbusa cookie from the night before while she unwrapped the dagger and tablet they’d brought back. No latex gloves this time. Both items were possibly keys to trapping Apep, but the translations weren’t enough. This wasn’t a recipe, just pieces of a mostly missing puzzle.

  She finished off the cookie and glanced at the bed, half-expecting Issa to be watching her. He probably would have been if he were conscious. He knew about her visions and the pain that came with them.

  She hadn’t promised to wait for him. It wasn’t like she needed him. She’d touched hundreds of artifacts before she met him, and she’d survived. But these were older than most of the items she was usually commissioned to find. And lately, the clarity and power of her visions had been escalating. The moment she’d touched the Mayan codex, she’d been transported back in time, to the jungle, to Issa.

  And she’d nearly passed out with the pain.

  Issa still remained motionless, immune to the cold of the tomb. Muriah shivered. How would she keep from going stir crazy waiting for Issa to wake up and move the stone that blocked the only exit from the tomb? His sanctuary. Her gaze wandered back to the relics. She took a couple of slow, deep breaths, grounding herself before reaching out to grasp the handle of the dagger.

  Her eyes closed as the vise tightened around her head. It took a moment to steady herself within the vision before she could begin her visual inspection of the scenes involving the dagger. She was inside another pyramid. Egyptian priests gathered in a circle around a clay vase.

  They chanted while one priest held the dagger.

  She continued to search for details, anything that might help her find the necessary items to complete the ritual and trap Apep. She had recognized the tablet they already had in their possession, but there was also one more. One of the priests stepped forward. “My blood opens the door and summons Apep to our circle.”

  Using the ceremonial dagger, h
e cut open his palm, letting it drip into the vase. The vision wavered. She strained to hear their chant and understand the words, to focus the scene. The pain swelled, throbbing until she cried out and dropped the dagger, breaking the connection with the relic.

  Muriah trembled and wiped at her face. Apparently, she’d been crying. As she lowered her hand, she noticed the blood. “Oh shit.”

  Her palm was sliced open like the priest from her vision. She scrambled over to her discarded shirt and wrapped it around the wound, staunching the bleeding. Pain still pounded against her temples and her hand ached, but she hardly noticed. This was the hunt, her drug of choice, and now she knew they needed one more tablet. Perhaps a vase, too, although she doubted it needed to be a specific vessel to trap him. The blood seemed much more important to the ritual.

  They were so close to being able to stop the crazy bastard.

  Unsure if she could stand, Muriah scooted toward the tablet she’d collected the night before. Her hand hovered above it while she bolstered her courage. At least this relic didn’t have any sharp edges. A tablet couldn’t cut her. But the visions would still hurt. Badly.

  There was no other way. She needed the information. Closing her eyes, she thought of Lukas and The Dimension’s Den, and then she saw Issa’s smile. If she couldn’t put the pieces together to stop Apep, she would lose them all.

  The moment her fingertips came in contact with the tablet, air whooshed out of her lungs. Pain thrust through the center of her forehead like a spear. The room changed, and she found herself in a tiny house in Cairo. A man’s voice bartered over a tablet. Another man bickered about the authenticity.

  Muriah pushed harder against the mental vise squeezing her head, struggling to see a face. Black spots marred the images around her, but finally, a man stepped out of the shadows. A man she recognized as another one of her contacts in Cairo. The blackness spread across her vision. The pain was all-consuming, like an ice pick being slowly hammered through her forehead.

  She ground her teeth together, biting back a sob. Time to let go of the tablet. But before she could move her fingers, another face came into focus. His voice was muffled, and she couldn’t place where she had seen him before. Although her stomach roiled, she pushed herself to hold on a little longer. The tall man in the well-tailored, dark suit took the tablet and produced a business card.

  The vision of the plain white card jiggled her memory. It was the detective. What was his name? Bale? No, not a detective. He worked for the government. Agent Bale. Why would the American government want an ancient Egyptian tablet?

  The vision shifted. Was she inside a car? Anxious to end the mental torture, she scanned the inside of the vehicle. On the floor of the backseat, she saw it. The vase that had once held the spirit of the God of Chaos.

  They needed to find Agent Bale.

  Another wave of agony swelled inside her head and the blackness swept through her mind. Muriah embraced the darkness and faded into the peace it offered.

  …

  Zafrina approached the shore. Lori sat on the sand with her knees pulled up to her chest. Although the moon waned above the water, Zafrina’s vision wasn’t impaired by darkness. She admired the fascinating woman before making her presence known. This was uncharted territory. Until Gretchen invaded the Yucatan jungle, Zafrina had avoided mortals and watched from the shadows as the centuries passed by. Her atrophied emotions came to life more with each day.

  Confiding in a mortal was risky and new. But she’d never met a woman like this one, protective of her own like a lioness, with passion lurking in the depths of her eyes.

  The night wind brought the salty scent of ocean air ashore as the waves rolled up the sand toward Lori’s feet. Her red hair blew freely around her face like a candle’s flame, drawing Zafrina closer. She reached for Lori’s mind. Puzzling thoughts whispered through Zafrina’s head.

  I shouldn’t be out here alone. I’d be upset with Edie or Kate for meeting someone on a deserted beach after midnight. It’s nuts. Plus, she’s a vampire.

  “I am definitely not a vampire.”

  Lori scrambled to her feet. “Zafrina. You startled me.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “And you were reading my mind.”

  “I came to teach you how to shield your thoughts so they will be hidden.”

  “I’m ready.” She nodded, determination lighting her gaze.

  Zafrina smiled at her bold stare. “Beware of making eye contact with Night Walkers. Humans can be mesmerized by us.”

  “I don’t feel hypnotized.”

  “I am not seeking to steal your free will.”

  She raised her chin. “Tell me how to protect myself.”

  Zafrina ran her fingers along the bottom of Lori’s exquisite jawline, expecting her withdrawal, but it never came. “Your thoughts give off sound inside my head when I open my mind and reach for them. If you repeat a certain phrase over and over, I will only be able to hear that. Your memories and emotions will be hidden from me and the others.”

  Lori took a step away, turning to look out at the waves. “Give me a second.”

  Zafrina waited, unable to keep her expression neutral. This woman fascinated her. Fearless, intelligent, fierce, and loyal. Rare traits in most of the humans Zafrina had watched on her island of Cozumel.

  Lori’s voice was soft. “Try listening now.”

  Zafrina reached out and smiled. “Who is James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George DuPree?”

  “It’s working.” Lori grinned. “It’s from a poem called Defiance by A.A. Milne.” She paused and then added, “You know, the guy who wrote Winnie the Pooh?”

  “Pooh?”

  “The bear.” Lori’s eyes widened slightly. “You have no idea who I’m talking about. Never mind, it doesn’t really matter. It’s a poem I memorized when I was little. My mother and I used to recite it together all the time. I can keep it on constant repeat in my head.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.” Zafrina kept trying to press against Lori’s mental shield. Every once in a while, she caught a word or a phrase. Not bad for only just learning the technique. Lori continued to impress her.

  “Why me?”

  Zafrina raised a brow. “I do not understand the question.”

  “You’re the oldest Night Walker under Calisto’s roof. That makes you the most powerful, right?”

  Zafrina nodded.

  “So why did you confide in me? I’m just…a person.”

  “You have more courage than many immortals.” Zafrina pressed a gentle hand to Lori’s chest, right over her heart. Instead of her pulling back from the touch, Zafrina heard Lori’s pulse race in answer. “Because you fight from your heart for those you love. Keep practicing to shield your thoughts, and do not let the others know.”

  Lori almost smiled. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

  “Thank you.” Zafrina brought her hand up to caress Lori’s cheek. Her lashes fluttered as she lowered her gaze, and heat flushed to the surface of her skin. Zafrina pressed her lips together to keep her thirst in check. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten Lori.

  When Lori finally met Zafrina’s gaze again, there was no trace of embarrassment, only wonder. “You said Night Walkers can mesmerize us with your eyes.” She swallowed, and Zafrina caught herself watching the muscles in her beautiful neck. “What about your touch?”

  “My touch holds no magic.” Zafrina slowly lowered her hand, shaking her head. “Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable, that was not my intention.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.” Lori almost smiled. “And I think you’re wrong about your touch.”

  Lori jogged up the beach toward Calisto’s stairs before Zafrina could respond. She glanced down at her hand, still warm from Lori’s skin, and smiled.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sun slipped into the desert sands, and Issa pulled a slow breath into his lungs. He rolled over, expect
ing to find Muriah. He frowned, his eyes opening.

  The bed was empty.

  He scanned the room. “Muriah?”

  Silence answered, sending a chill through his body. He got out of bed, still naked, but impervious to the cold. Nothing would warm him but…blood. His thirst clawed to the forefront. Following the enticing scent, he found Muriah unconscious on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  He knelt at her side, lifting her into his arms. His pulse raced with adrenaline and concern. A thick trail of fresh blood ran down from her nose, and tracks of dried blood came from both ears. What happened?

  Then he noticed the tablet and the dagger on the floor.

  She’d used her gift while he slept.

  Issa stroked his cool fingers down her cheek. He could hear her heartbeat, faint and slow, but present. “Muriah?”

  He waited, but she made no response. Carrying her to the bed, he laid her down and covered her with a blanket. He noticed her palm was also cut, although it appeared she’d stopped the bleeding. He reached for her mind, knowing he’d hit a wall, but he had to try.

  Nothing. A blank canvas.

  Stroking her hair, he kissed her forehead. “Come back to me.”

  What if she couldn’t come back? Muriah was mortal, precious. Fragile. If she’d pushed her mind too far, this might be a sleep she didn’t awaken from. Fear turned his stomach.

  “Fight, Muriah.” He waited, and finally, in desperation added, “Please.”

  If he drank from her, he might be able to reach her mind through the blood connection and determine the damage she’d sustained. But he hesitated. A week ago, he would’ve sank his fangs into her flesh without a second thought. But now? Muriah had lured him into her world, into her reality, not as a god, but as a partner, a man.

  A man who cared about her. He couldn’t peer into her mind without her consent.

  But she hadn’t treated him as a partner. She still didn’t trust him to protect her while her power zapped her strength.

  Issa got up from the bed, pacing the floor. A guttural cry of rage and frustration brewed inside him until he roared through the empty tomb. Helplessness was as foreign to him as fear.