Key to Conflict

by Talia Gryphon

  Silver bullets would take out a Lycanthrope but were useless against anything else unless you emptied a clip and blew heads off. Cold iron was the bane of a Sidhe of any Court. Even the Sluagh could be killed with an iron weapon. Wooden stakes, wood-shafted arrows or wood bullets would turn a Vampire to dust, providing you were close enough and fast enough and the Vampire was injured or in torpor enough, but did nothing against a Zombie, Ghost or Revenant.

  Zombies needed a houngan or mambo, a voudoun priest or priestess, to lay them permanently to rest. Ghosts required an exorcism and numerous potent blessings, but nothing really bothered a Revenant. Self-directed instead of mindless, and externally controlled like a Zombie, Revenants were incredibly stupid but a hell of a lot faster than a Zombie, and nothing fazed them. They just kept coming until you found something to incinerate them with or moved beyond their immediate attention span.

  Shuffling. Slow, heavy shuffling. Gillian’s heart jackham-mered in her chest. Fear projection. Whatever it was was fueling fear like a Ghost. She never moved, she never blinked. The passage was too narrow for her to run past it, though she doubted it could have caught her by the sound of its gait. Her world narrowed in focus to the dark rectangle across from her. All of her prior experience had not prepared her for the horror that shambled out of that frame of darkness and into the glare of her flashlight.

  CHAPTER

  11

  D ARK, discolored linen hung in tattered strips from the tall lanky form. Mouth agape in a soundless scream, hands outstretched, feet shuffling, the Mummy came. Where in hell it had come from Gillian had no idea, unless it had come from one of the side passages in the mortuary temple or somehow from the royal cemetery just being excavated nearby, but she had no time to worry about its origins.

  Slowly, inexorably, it moved toward her, snuffling as it scented the air through dry sinus cavities in its ruined nose. She tried to move around the sarcophagus but it moved with her. Whether it responded to movement, scent or visual clues, she couldn’t tell. Unnatural light flickered in the sunken eye sockets like points of yellow flames. It wasn’t extremely fast, but it was persistent. When she moved, it mirrored her.

  “Shit, hell and damn,” she muttered.

  Bullets would have absolutely no effect. It was tall, its arms and legs long and lean despite being moldy, and the room wasn’t that big. The smell hit her next. It wasn’t the rotting corpse stench that came with Zombies; it was a smell of ancient rigid death and it added to its projection of fear.

  A Revenant was the only thing she could think to compare it too. She had no fire with her, and it was ludicrous to think that the spark from a fired bullet might catch the ancient pitch that sealed its bandages. It couldn’t reach her over the expanse of the sarcophagus, which Gillian fervently hoped was unoccupied. She didn’t need two inquisitive, hungry Mummies after her just now. The Mummy lurched, trying to snatch at her as she ducked behind the solid granite. It couldn’t get to her, but she couldn’t get past. Stalemate. Shit.

  Time passed. Irritation built. Thoroughly disgusted with being pinned down by this one denizen of the dead, her teeth chattering with fear, Gillian’s mind was in overdrive. Revenants had a taste for both blood and flesh. They were also enormously strong. Somewhat of a cross between a Vampire and a Zombie, they could rend and tear with their teeth, holding the luckless person while they chewed, slurped and crunched their way through to a vital spot while their prey screamed.

  She had no intention of being food. Her temper was soaring, she was scared and her arms were getting tired from holding the gun and flashlight on her shambling assailant. That was the bad thing about the undead—they had seemingly endless energy and could wait you out. When you were too tired to run or fight, they pounced on you. Trying to negotiate with it was pointless. The Mummy, like a true Revenant, would have little cerebral cortex left to process vocabulary words, so talking with it was out.

  Finally, completely out of patience, Gillian decided her best defense was a good offense. Hungry, angry and scared made for an explosive combination. Feinting to the right, she held her ground as the shuffling, snuffling horror moved around the edge of the sarcophagus. Quaking with fright while every nerve in her body fired in the flight-or-fight sequence, Gillian held her ground.

  The grasping fingers reached and the Mummy’s foot cleared the corner. She moved, but not fast enough. Lurching suddenly, the long-dead fingers caught her shirt, the fist closing with an unnerving creak. Gillian had no problem with false modesty versus survival.

  Yanking the shirt up, out of her pants, she ducked her head, momentarily putting her arms, gun and flashlight within reach of the creature, who was too stupid to notice. The shirt peeled off her like a layer of an onion and she bolted for the door around the other side of the sarcophagus. The Mummy, not being bright, brought the shirt to its open mouth, tasting and chewing as Gill hauled ass up the passageway, praying that she wouldn’t run into any more surprise linen packages.

  To her right lay the lower burial chamber, at the bottom of an incline. She couldn’t bring herself to go back through that lower room. Something was down there, she was certain of it; maybe hidden in the walls or the floor, but she had no intention of finding out what it was. The forward passage went up, and that’s where she wanted to be. Up. Out. Into the fresh air. Ahead were double doors and she poured on the speed, vaguely realizing that her haste was unnecessary. It would take the Mummy several minutes to get to her after it discovered the shirt was empty.

  Instinct is a wonderful thing. Seconds before she would have collided with the doors, her head down and shoulder out, she skidded to a halt…sort of…and bounced off the chained doors.

  Shit and double shit!

  Booting her foot against the door and pushing so that a crack appeared, exposing the locked chain, she took aim and fired. The noise ricocheted in the tight hallway, nearly deafening her in the enclosed area, but the chain parted and fell open. A moment of frantic pushing as the chain untangled from the handles and she was out and running away from the pyramid, only then noticing that it was full dark. Great. Just lovely. She needed to get back to the underground and fast.

  Feeling somewhat silly in just her bra and cargo pants but cranked on adrenaline, thankful there were no people anywhere in sight, she jogged toward the front of Khufu, looking for the hut where the door lay. Finding it, she pushed through the door flap, and snapped the scarab key into place. The door slid obediently, Gill grabbed the key and tore down the curving incline. Reaching the second door, again placing the key in, she moved as soon as it started to slide and collided with a very solid, bare, male chest. Her eyes snapped up to lock onto Anubis’s amused face.

  “Your companions are most distressed that you were out after dark, little one. They are all waiting for you in the council room.”

  Anubis’s deep echoing voice rumbled from his chest. He was smiling, but his smile faded as he caught the scent of where she’d been on her.

  “I am Anubis. Tanis is one whom I call friend. You are all right?”

  He looked her up and down, turning her in front of him, concern written on his spectacular features. “Osiris would be most unhappy if you were to come to harm. You are an honored guest and to be treated with the utmost care.”

  Gillian rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I understand that. I know I’m protected and I know Aleksei and Tanis are pissed off. Please just tell me what to wear if I have to be in that meeting.” Unthinking, she grasped his arms, her voice full of urgency.

  Anubis’s eyebrows rose at her unexpected touch and he smiled but made no move to touch her. “Proper attire awaits you in your chambers, little warrior. I will take you there, then escort you to the council room.” He led the way to her room, then waited while she changed.

  Gillian was embarrassed that she’d grabbed him like that. She was getting too damn comfortable around Vampires and that could get her very, very dead if she wasn’t careful.

  Discovering an opulent bathroom h
idden by a strategically placed decorative screen, she raced through a shower to get the grit and sweat off. She opted for braiding her wet hair, then shrugged into the sage linen pants and tunic lying on her bed.

  At least it wasn’t a dress, she thought as she regarded herself for a moment in the mirror. Her dusty hiking boots would have to do, though she brushed her towel over them to dispense with most of the sand. The top was a tunic-like vest, the pants tapered with a drawstring waist. The color looked good on her, warming her skin and making her hair glow. At least she didn’t look delicate in it, she mused.

  Joining Anubis in the hall, she swiftly walked to the council room, a few hallways away from her own. The doorway was open and Gillian swept in, Anubis at her side. Tanis and Aleksei were seated on opposite sides of a large circular table and rose when she entered. Old-World manners at their finest, except both looked ready to strangle her. She detected the undercurrent of anger from both the men and an amused feeling from Osiris, who also rose, sweeping his arm to indicate a chair near Tanis. Anubis remained by the door, a silent guardian.

  “Please, Gillian. Do sit.”

  Osiris’s smile was perfection. His voice was deep, rich, delightful, like melting sugar. He was beyond breathtaking. It was easy to believe he actually was a god. Humans simply did not look like that. Vampires didn’t either, for that matter. Osiris was more than a cut above the rest—he was a standard unto himself that could never be matched in this world.

  Heartstopping, pantie-liquifying, divinely perfect; dressed simply in the belted linen kilt of an Egyptian pharaoh, Osiris was royalty, nobility and omnipotence rolled into a very tall, coppery-skinned package. He was Egyptian through and through. His thick blue-black hair was cut short, obsidian-shiny and wavy, stubbornly curling at his neckline and around perfect ears. No crown adorned his brow. He didn’t need one. The power radiating from him made Gillian’s skin crawl, but in a most pleasant manner.

  She appraised him openly, trying to keep her lower jaw shut, since it kept wanting to drop to the floor. Pure, raw sensuality was carved into the very structure of his face. Where Tanis’s eyes were golden, the tawny amber of a great cat, Osiris’s eyes were literally gold. Metallic, shimmering and triangular-shaped, they missed nothing—no detail in the room, no detail about his guests.

  He knew their every thought, felt every heartbeat, heard every breath, and Gillian knew that he knew, which was good, because she had one hell of a question list.

  This was where innate telepathy was a phenomenal time-saver. Up until five seconds ago, Tanis, Aleksei and Anubis had been the most spectacular men she’d ever seen. Osiris made them all look nearly average. Palms sweating, pulse accelerating, she moved toward the table.

  Osiris watched her as she strode into the room. Small, compact, she walked like a warrior; confident and aggressive. He admired her but she was not his type, could never be. Isis, his companion and lover for the last four thousand years, held his heart securely. He appreciated Tanis’s affection for her, could see why his friend was nearly frantic with worry and why even Aleksei was quietly furious with her for being absent these few hours. The little thing looked positively delicate, and he bet she hated that.

  Tanis held her chair and Gillian afforded him a glancing smile. He was not happy. That much she could tell. Dropping into the chair with less grace than she would have liked, she glanced around the table as the men also sat, all eyes on her.

  “Well? What?” They were staring at her, and she fidgeted.

  Osiris laughed, startling Gillian and bringing incredulous looks from Tanis and Aleksei. She trembled as the rich voice poured over her.

  “You have caused your friends great distress, young one. They feared for your safety, and yet you march in as if nothing has happened, no apologies whatsoever.” He chuckled. “I admire courage, Gillian. You are a brave warrior and an honorable woman. However, you must remember that you are under threat, much as these two are, but they are far more capable of avoiding harm than you. You frightened them and should apologize.”

  Blushing under his gentle scolding, Gillian lowered her eyes and bit back a sharp retort. “I am sorry it got so late, I was…”—now was not the time to share her recent linen-wrapped adventures in geometric structures—“…sightseeing, and lost track of the time.”

  Eyebrows shot up on the aristocratic face as Osiris caught the blatant lie. From the sharp intake of breath from the other two Vampires, they did too. However, he could afford to be magnanimous. The little Human would learn soon enough the truth of his words.

  “I also admire loyalty, Gillian. You understand as much as we do the meaning of that word. I would like for your loyalty to be with me and mine, but I do not demand an oath of allegiance. Your word will be enough.”

  Gillian thought about that for a moment, since he had basically read her surface thoughts back to her. Carefully avoiding Aleksei’s cold stare and Tanis’s heated gaze, she spoke cautiously. “From what I’ve been told, I can trust you, and from what I feel from you and yours, I know I can. However, I hope you can appreciate that I am very much out of my element here and be patient when I ask questions or take my own risks for my own reasons.”

  Admiring her honesty and forthrightness, Osiris regarded her. “Fair enough, little warrior, but there are many things that you do not know, and we cannot spend months educating you in every nuance of Vampire society and infrastructure.”

  Her eyebrows shot up at that, until she remembered Aleksei telling her that Osiris was thorough and deliberate. He kept abreast of the modern world; he simply chose not to live in it.

  “I understand that,” she replied, carefully keeping her voice level, but she knew he felt her irritation. “I am just not accustomed to obeying without question.”

  Osiris managed an almost inelegant snort. “You are a soldier, madam. You most certainly are accustomed to instant obedience. Whether or not you are at the head of the army or merely a cog in the wheel, discipline and obedience are part of every soldier’s life. Do not insult my intelligence nor try my patience on this matter.”

  Ouch. That stung. Osiris’s voice never varied from the beautiful, deep, level pitch, but the reprimand snapped like a whip across her conscience. It took all her control not to squirm in her chair. Feeling like a child who’d been caught in a lie, Gillian could do nothing but acknowledge his truth.

  “You are right. I apologize. I will try to remember that I am over my head and that I have to rely on you…on all of you, to stay alive and in one piece.”

  “Apologies and promises mean nothing without actions, little warrior. See to it that you remain alive. I will then consider your promise fulfilled and believe your apology sincere.”

  Gillian blushed again at that. Dammit, those little arrows of truth were starting to sting. Not to mention the fact that his power flared briefly during his anger, making her gasp. She remembered that he was probably only a couple of years younger than the Gods, so he probably had picked up a few things in the last few millennium, like wisdom. Real ancient wisdom. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “All right” was the only thing she could think of to say.

  Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Hell, he would make anybody quake in their boots. She hoped Dracula would come face-to-face with Osiris.

  Tanis felt the tremor of fear in her. Good, he thought. It would do her good to face a little reality tonight.

  Aleksei’s thoughts were on par with his. “When we are through with this meeting, I intend to interject more harsh reality upon the piccola guerriera’s backside. For lying, if nothing else.”

  “I believe that since she is my lover, Aleksei, that it should be my pleasure to do so. You are still her patient. I am not bound by professional protocol.”

  “You had your chance already, Tanis. I did not agree with your method at the time, but I am beginning to believe that it may be the only way to get her attention.”

  Not missing the fact that a silent exchange between the Rachlavs
had just occurred, but not understanding it, Gillian’s brow furrowed. They were up to no good and it involved her, she was sure of it.

  Osiris laughed again, reading every thought in the room. “Gillian, you could not have chosen two more difficult men to intertwine yourself with. They are hopelessly old fashioned and absolutely determined to provide for your safety whether you wish it or not.”

  The Egyptian Lord rose and straightened to his full height, noble and imposing. “I have already spoken to them of this, but I understand that you have questions about how we will proceed. I respect you enough from Aleksei and Tanis’s glowing reports to relay it directly so there is no chance of you not trusting what they may tell you.”

  He paused a moment to make sure he had her full attention. He did. He also noticed her surprise in hearing about “glowing reports.”

  “I could destroy Dracula outright in a face-to-face confrontation, that is true, but I cannot destroy all the thoughts and feelings of those involved with him. They serve him because they share the same attitudes and beliefs. We must fight and win this war openly. Only then will those who serve him and follow the path he has set them on, be willing to come fully under the banner of either myself or Dionysus.

  “I am not a tyrant. I do not simply take what I am able to take. That is not what encompasses being a ruler of my people or any people. Prince Dracula is evil and twisted, yes. But if I insinuate my force, use my abilities to manipulate and control this situation, demand that the defeated swear allegiance to me, then I am no better than he is.