However, at long last, the huge statues of Abu Simbel rose on the west bank with the sun glaring behind them. They were deep in the south now. The air patrols had thinned in the last few days, and the River Guard were much less apparent. The maw of the temple's entrance promised a dark interior. It would be stale, but cooler than the boat. Gareth desperately needed a chance to rest and regain his strength.
Adele was shaking with relief that help was so close as she veered the dahabiya for shore. Thanks to the old Aswan Dam, the water of the Nile almost lapped the very face of the huge temple. She didn't see any sign of occupation, and her heart sank. Colonel Anhalt wasn't here waiting, as he had promised. Disastrous scenarios ran through her head—perhaps the colonel had been discovered aiding her escape and had been arrested; or he had failed to convince his men to accompany him; or he had failed to arrange transport; or the worst possibility, that he had decided not to help her, that he could not abandon his oath to king and country.
She took a deep breath to calm useless fears. One step at a time. She would get Gareth into the temple first. Then, they would wait. She had to assume Colonel Anhalt would come. If he didn't arrive in a few days, she would form another plan. He had chosen Abu Simbel because it was an excellent place to hide. Up until a decade ago, it had been an extensive military compound, but when that base was moved to Wadi Halfa, it left the temple precinct isolated.
Adele didn't dare bring Gareth out in the heat until she knew this place was unoccupied by anyone, or anything. If the temple was cool enough to succor Gareth, it could very well be cool enough for other vampires. She knew the creatures lurked everywhere. She hastily anchored the boat, shoved her Fahrenheit dagger and one of Gareth's pistols into her belt, grabbed a lantern, and went ashore. She dipped her head in gratitude as she approached the four colossal seated figures towering a hundred feet over her. She could only hope that their old friend from the British Museum, Ramses, looked down kindly on them. She passed between the immense thrones, while far above, the Watchers of the Dawn, a row of stone baboons, raised their hands to the sun. They worshipped the rising sun, as it was believed that they had a hand in helping the sun god Ra defeat the darkness of night.
After a cursory exploration, Adele was satisfied the rooms were free of unwanted visitors, and so she returned to the boat. The sun had set finally, and just now the first bright stars began to appear in the pink sky. She slipped belowdecks and knelt beside Gareth, pressing her hand on his chest as much to rouse him as to once again reassure herself that he was still breathing.
“Gareth,” she called softly.
His breath deepened as if trying to wake. It took another minute before she could get him to open his eyes to look at her.
“It's dark,” he muttered. It wasn't a question, but a whisper of relief. His body trembled and his skin burned.
“We've reached Abu Simbel. It's nice and cool. You'll like it. It's a ruin.”
Gareth managed to sit up dizzily as Adele tried to get a shoulder under him. Together they stumbled up to the deck. The heat was still oppressive enough to make Gareth shudder and pull back.
“It's not far,” she urged him. “It will be better once we get inside.”
His head nodded as he slumped against her. Gareth let her guide him to the side of the boat. He collapsed to the deck, but managed to swing his long legs over the side. Adele jumped into the calf-deep water and helped him over. He didn't even notice the water as he sank to his knees before Adele grabbed him. Struggling up the sandy bank took energy, but soon they reached the temple. The moment they staggered inside, he immediately noticed the difference. He drew in a great lungful of the slightly cooler air and sagged against a column.
“It's even cooler farther in,” Adele urged him.
That was all he needed to hear. Gareth stumbled after her, keeping a hand on her shoulder at all times to steady himself. They shuffled down a long, sand-dusted passageway, and Adele could tell he was getting stronger. She sighed gratefully.
She turned to the left, toward one of the wings out of the path of the sun, which would shine all the way to the back during a sunrise. They went as far back as they could, and Gareth sank to the floor with his hands pressed against the hard earth as if he could siphon cold up from the very ground. His loud gasps of relief were a welcome sound to Adele. She knelt beside him, holding him tight.
“Thank you,” he gasped out weakly. “This is good.”
“I'll be right back. I'm going to bring in some supplies.” She rose, but he gripped her hand tightly for a second. She leaned over him, her lips brushing against his hair. He slowly released her hand.
Adele retrieved her lantern, and a half hour later they had what they needed. She left the small stove in the main chamber near the door to vent the smoke, and because there was no reason to heat up Gareth's room any more than necessary. Finished with the small chores, she hurried back to him. To her surprise, he was standing near a far wall. His body was not plagued by the weakness of before. She couldn't help but marvel as he began to revert to the man she knew. As soon as she stepped inside, he turned toward her and reached out. She gladly went into his arms.
“Thank God,” she whispered.
“How cool is it outside?” Gareth took deep breaths just because he could. With it came the scent of Adele, robust and earthy. He hoped, if the night was cool enough, to go out to feed. With any luck, he could happen upon another wanderer or farmer.
“We have another couple of hours till the heat dissipates. I'm afraid you're stuck here with me for a bit.”
Adele continued to talk to him, but it was hard to hear over the rush of her blood coursing just inches away. He was stronger now and it was hard to deny his drive to feed. Still, he had to try. It was only a few more hours. He turned away abruptly, stalking to the far wall to distance himself from the temptation.
“Gareth?”
“I want to walk around a bit. Stretch my legs.” Again he lied. The sensations flooding him were surreal and frantic, and he worried that he didn't have the strength to keep away from Adele. A wave of repulsion pushed the hunger down. He pressed against the wall, letting the chill in the stones distract him.
“You have to eat,” Adele said bluntly as she pulled up her sleeve, revealing numerous bite marks on her forearm.
“No!” He snarled as the hunger rushed back at the mere words. At her wide-eyed expression, he relented. “It's too soon for you. I can wait.”
She crossed her arms. “I'm willing to take the risk.”
He shook his head mutely as he paced the wall, trying to keep distance between them. Her sheer willingness fanned his hunger to monumental levels. There was a red haze before his eyes.
“What can I do?” she asked him quietly.
His laugh was desperate and haunted. Then his pacing abruptly ceased, his blue eyes boring into her. “I need to be alone.”
Anxiety immediately flared in her face at the thought of leaving him in such a state.
“It's for the best, Adele. You are a walking reminder of what I long for.” He could see that she understood.
“I'll be nearby. Call if you need me.”
The moment she left, Gareth sagged to the ground, his legs buckling beneath him. Every limb shook with the restraint it took to calm himself. The hunger began to subside to normal levels that he could control. He was used to fits and starts in his meals, but never like this. Not to mention the oppressive heat. It was all he could do to keep sane. He had no idea what would happen to him if this deprivation continued. He might just react on instinct and attack Adele, or perhaps he would be too weak to do that.
Miserable, Gareth huddled alone in the dark, waiting for the heat to fade.
ADELE ATTEMPTED TO stay busy by making her evening meal, knowing that Gareth was starving just below her. Her heart broke as she stared at her food and sat back with her hunger forgotten. He had paced like a wild animal. His behavior frightened her in ways it never had before. She couldn't believe h
e'd hurt her, but his desperation was a cruel thing to watch.
The hopeless situation was coming down to either watching Gareth slowly die or encouraging him to feed, on someone. There was finally a desert chill in the air. In a fluid motion she rose to her feet and padded back into the temple. Gareth was already standing in the shadows of the doorway. For a split second, his sudden appearance jarred her. He looked dreadful, his features sunken to dark hollows.
“It's okay,” she said softly.
His head swiveled toward her sharply.
“You have to feed,” she continued. “If you won't do it with me, then you need to find someone. Go while you still can. I know you won't harm them.”
Gareth looked away, his head lowered.
She hesitated. “I…I know you don't need my permission, but I just wanted you to know I'll be here when you get back.”
Gareth silently slipped past her, aiming for the door. As he passed, he reached out and touched her hand, his long fingers brushing against hers, feather-light, a caress. Her chest caught in a swell of emotion. Suddenly she was frightened for him. An irrational desire to go with him swept over her, but she refrained. Instead, her fingers curled around his, clinging to him for just an instant before releasing her hold.
With that they separated, Gareth to the embrace of the desert night and Adele to the dark chambers of the temple.
A scrape of feet on stone woke Adele. She sat up abruptly, her blanket falling to her lap. It took only a second to turn up the flickering lantern beside her. Her sleep had been fitful with dreams of Gareth in trouble, but he was coming back now.
She hoped he had been successful, no longer caring about the monstrous implications of that wish. She only wanted to see him stride in full of life and vigor, the man she remembered.
The footfalls ceased suddenly, which was odd, but perhaps Gareth's attention had been grabbed by the many monuments and he'd paused to study them. He had been trapped in the hold of the boat for days, and he wouldn't be in a hurry to come underground again. Then the footsteps continued, but they had a strange echo to them. She rose to her feet, coming forward to meet Gareth, when four men entered the room.
Three were Bedouin in light robes and burnooses while the fourth was European with a stained linen suit. All four were heavily bearded and leathery from the sun. Their eyes swept the room, and they expressed their good fortune by grinning menacingly at the woman they found alone.
“We followed you a long way from Cairo, mon petite Equateur,” the northerner said in a French accent, likely from Marseilles. He pointed a pistol at Adele and nodded at her gun belt on the floor. “Please don't move toward your guns or I will have to shoot you. And I truly don't wish to do so.”
Adele slowly inched away from the pistol belt and toward her pack, where her Fahrenheit dagger lay hidden. Gareth had been right; someone had followed them. Foolishly, she had disregarded his comment. Now, she kept her hands in front of her, keeping the men's attention on her upper body until she nudged the rucksack with her toe. Adele made calculations as to how she might reach her dagger and strike the men without getting killed.
The Frenchman said, “We want the jewels you have. No doubt they are stolen from some rich family. You're going to give us what we want. Such a pretty little girl to hide such expensive gems.”
Adele's odds lessened as the thugs spread out, making it harder to deal with them in tight quarters. Then, in the trembling shadows behind them, stirred another figure.
Gareth.
The sunken hollows of his eyes were fixed on the men. She could see from his hunched stance that he had not fed. His stare at the intruders was one of undeniable need. He was dark and terrifying, a creature of nightmares.
Adele glanced at the men who stalked toward her with cruel grins. A sense of dread for them slipped over her just before she used her foot to tip over the lantern and plunge the room into pitch darkness.
Chaos broke out. Flashes of pistol fire lit up the room. Someone rushed her and shoved her to the floor. Screams echoed horribly around the walls soon after. Even the burly man pressing her down paused, suddenly unsure what was happening around him. Adele slammed an elbow into his face with a resounding crack, and the weight shifted off just enough to allow her to grab the heavy lantern next to her. She swung it, and the howl of pain pleased her as the man slumped to the side. She pulled her dagger and swiped out. It failed to connect. Her eyes struggled to see past the eerie glow of the Fahrenheit blade.
With legs bent and arms outstretched, she paused, straining to see shapes in the gloom, listening for everyone's location, but there were only moans and sobbing. Someone was crying hysterically.
Another shouted, “What the hell was that?”
“Heaven help us!”
Something shifted beside her and she spun, her knife darting out, this time connecting. A scream of pain followed. A meaty hand grabbed her other arm and pulled her close. A man's foul breath washed over her face. She struck again, aiming for a more vital area now. The blade cut and bounced off bone but settled in silently. With a strangled gasp, the man slumped against her.
Adele shoved him away and rocked back on her heels. Now there was only a lone, muffled sobbing in the silence. Her hands fumbled for the lantern in the dust nearby. Trembling fingers turned the knob, and the gaslight bathed her corner of the room.
Three men lay dead. Blood was everywhere. The sobbing stopped. An icy chill enveloped her as she saw Gareth in the filtered light. He was hunched over one of the robbers with his fangs plunged deeply into the man's neck. His white shirt was soaked red. The figure in his arms was motionless except for an occasional twitch of his loose limbs. Gareth stared up at her over his meal with a crimson face. When their eyes locked, he turned away and dragged the man into the dark out of her sight.
Adele's breath came out in gasps. The smell of blood filled her nostrils. She turned and vomited.
The attack had been feral, a slaughter. Adele's brain kept repeating that he had had no choice. If Gareth had not been here, she would have been killed. She knew that. Still, her hand turned off the light and the carnage faded from her sight.
It was several minutes later when she heard Gareth approach. He gently touched her on the arm.
“Come.”
She obeyed, permitting him to help her to stand on shaky legs. There was more strength in him now than there was in her. It was shock, she knew. It would pass. He steered her unerringly in the darkness toward the temple entrance, where the faintest of light was just seeping over the horizon. The air outside was fresh and clean and devoid of death.
“Go to the boat,” he said. “I'll clean up.”
Adele nodded, wanting to say something to him, but unable to think of anything suitable. Instead, instinct took over and she walked to the boat. A bottle of palm wine from the hold washed away the taste of bile in her throat. She took a deeper draft to steady her nerves.
Eventually she heard Gareth by the river's edge. He was on one knee, washing his torso, now bare of the blood-drenched shirt. The human blood from him stained the Nile red like the old Biblical tale.
There was just enough light to see that Gareth was truly recovered. The pallor that had hung over him was lifted. That sight brought Adele back to center somewhat. His gaze strayed to her as he approached the boat.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded and found her voice. “I'm fine.”
“Adele, I'm sorry for reminding you of what I am, but they would have killed you. I could taste it in them. They would have killed you and worse.”
Adele fought a chill at his words, and then asked, “What do you mean you could taste it?”
Gareth continued to stare into the distance beyond her. “When we drink the blood of humans, we get a strong sense of them. Not memories, but emotions. We can sense their nature. Fear. Anger. Sorrow.”
“My God,” she breathed. “I never imagined…”
“I could taste Cairo in them. T
hey had followed us.”
“The merchant where I sold the diamond?”
“Likely. But I know their intentions toward you.” His tone was near snarling. “For that alone they deserved death.”
His violence had been in her defense, and not just from his insatiable hunger. Knowing that eased Adele's fears, but then she realized another disturbing fact. She asked, “You've had my blood.” He shifted away from her at the comment, but she continued, “What did you taste in me?”
There was a long silence covered by the whistle of the desert wind and the lapping sound of the Nile. Gareth finally turned his head slowly and looked her in the eye.
“Power,” he said quietly before turning back toward the temple. “I'm almost done inside.”
As he walked away from her, Adele took guilty pleasure in the fact that he was once again the man she knew, despite the heavy price.
Adele wondered again about Colonel Anhalt as she methodically checked the small motor on the boat in the predawn glow. The colonel knew to meet them here in this temple, but she could only stare at the gigantic façade with a shudder now. Gareth had removed the slaughtered corpses and buried them in the desert, but the place conjured horrifying memories of him she'd rather not have.
Thankfully there was another place of refuge no more than a hundred yards distant. They could wait there for Anhalt. However, they couldn't abandon the temple without leaving a message about where they had gone. Adele hopped off the boat and made her way toward the huge, uncaring pharaohs. From her earlier campfire, she took a sturdy piece of burnt wood that would serve her perfectly for what she had in mind.
Gareth appeared from the interior, carrying a bundle of their belongings. He paused and silently regarded her, unsure of her reaction toward him.
She held up the bit of charred wood. “I think we should move. But we need to leave Anhalt a message.”
The Rift Walker Page 19