Nightwalker

by Jacquelyn Frank

  Or they would hail him as a hero. They looked just as scared of her as he was. He had tried talking to them, but they had shut him down at every opportunity. He was there for one purpose. When that purpose was fulfilled, his life would mean nothing to them.

  Yes. He had no choice but to make his move immediately after the birth.

  He hoped it was enough.

  —

  Viève was in the kitchen making something to eat for herself and Kamen. Neither of them had eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours. She was starving.

  The refrigerator was huge and it was full of food so there was plenty to choose from. She decided to make sandwiches. They required very little cooking skill so she couldn’t screw them up. No one in her cell had liked her cooking so it was best she not risk it. She only wanted to make good impressions on Kamen and everyone else who was there.

  She licked mayonnaise off her finger and began to hum as she folded meat onto the bread. Ham and cheese. Simple. Until she went to slice the tomato and ended up slicing her finger in the process. She cried out and stuck her finger in her mouth. Kamen heard her cry and came rushing in from the next room.

  “Here let me see.”

  “No. If nuffing,” she said around her finger. “I’m fine.”

  “Let me see,” he said firmly.

  She popped her finger out of her mouth and showed it to him. Blood immediately welled up at the tip.

  “Leave it to me to screw up a sandwich,” she said dejectedly.

  “It’s an accident. Everyone has them.”

  “I’m a Nightwalker. I’m supposed to have preternatural abilities and senses and I can’t even slice a fucking tomato.”

  Her swearing made him smile as he led her to the sink and held her finger under water. Then he wrapped it up in a paper towel.

  “Keep pressure on it. The bleeding will stop soon.”

  “I know,” she said grouchily. “I’m a klutz, not stupid.”

  “You’re not a klutz,” he said admonishingly.

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

  “Well, I’m learning. I know others have made you feel like you’re inept, but I’m not going to do that and I’m not going to allow others to do that to you. Including yourself.”

  She grinned at that, feeling somehow special because of his words. It wasn’t something she got to feel very often but she seemed to feel it a lot around him.

  “I’ll finish making the sandwiches. You sit right there,” he said, pointing to a stool at the breakfast bar. She obediently got up on the stool and watched him complete what she had started. He cut the sandwiches, notably without cutting himself, and handed her one. Then he sat down on the barstool opposite her and began to eat.

  “Gods I’m hungry,” he said between bites. “I didn’t even think to feed you last night.”

  “That’s okay. I wasn’t even thinking about food.”

  That made him grin. “What were you thinking about?”

  “You know the answer to that. I was…I was feeding my soul.” She lowered her lashes coquettishly. “You didn’t eat either,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, but my soul was quite satisfied.”

  She laughed. “I’m very happy to hear that.” She paused a beat. “But you would tell me, right? I mean, if you weren’t. Satisfied.” She blushed and covered it by dipping her head and taking a bite of her sandwich.

  “I would tell you,” he assured her, reaching to touch a finger to her flushing cheek. “And you will do the same, yes?”

  “I don’t think there’s any fear of that,” she said.

  “Just the same. I want your promise. If there is anything not right for you, you will tell me immediately.”

  “I promise. I will tell you.”

  “Good. This is young yet and we do not know each other well enough to read all the outside clues. Honesty is the only way we will learn.”

  “So…there’s nothing I’m doing wrong? Nothing I should be doing but I’m not?”

  “Nothing I can think of right now. But if something occurs to me you will be the first to know.”

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling pleased with herself for being so bold with him. She wanted to handle this relationship like a mature woman, with realistic expectations. It was wrong of her to feel hurt by a simple slight of words. As he said, the relationship was young yet. Meaning came with time.

  It was just that it seemed to come so easy with him. She had never once felt awkward or gauche; he had made her feel like she was normal. Maybe even special.

  And while she was happy with the way everyone was treating her—being very friendly and trying to engage her in conversation—she wasn’t good at conversation so she felt awkward. But if it was just him, it was different somehow. He was different. She never felt like he was judging her. He was the only one in the world she felt that way about.

  “Hey you,” Marissa greeted as she walked into the kitchen. She disregarded Kamen and stood between their stools so her back was to him. “Viève, we’re going to play a game of Nightwalker capture the flag. Want to play?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” she said. “I’m not good at games.”

  “Well, it’s more of a drill than it is a game. We’re using the game to hone our abilities as a cohesive unit.”

  “But my ability is a deathtouch. I can’t practice using that on any of you because you’d die or become extremely ill.”

  “Wait, you mean your deathtouch doesn’t always kill?” Kamen asked from behind Marissa’s back.

  Piqued, Viève reached out and gently moved Marissa aside a pair of steps so she could see Kamen and include him in the conversation.

  “The deathtouch has degrees,” she explained. “It can be like giving someone a dose of the plague or it can be instant death. We can choose how extreme it is. Just like we can control when to use it.”

  “That’s a very handy skill. You can incapacitate without killing. That could be important,” Kamen said. “Sometimes the less casualties the better. Remember, the Templars think Apep is still Odjit. They are following her out of loyalty and the dedication she had built up over generations and generations of lives. These are misguided Bodywalkers. Some may not even want to fight, they just don’t know how to defect safely.”

  “We can’t think like that or it will make us hesitate when we should be striking hard,” Marissa said with a frown.

  “I know these people. Many of them are following her because she has promised unity between the warring sides of the Bodywalkers. By now they must be realizing something is very wrong with Odjit. Apep is bloodthirsty and cruel. Odjit was cold and could be cruel, but there was always a purpose to what she did. An explanation for why she was doing something. Apep is just mayhem for the sake of making mayhem. I’m sure they are puzzled as to why she got pregnant. Odjit was never a mother. Not since her original life. She had no tolerance for kids and she made no secret of it. If one of her trusted aides became a parent, she would demote them so they were at a distance from her. There are no children in Odjit’s immediate camp.”

  “So why don’t they just leave if she’s gotten so bad?” Marissa asked.

  “Did it not occur to you that they stay out of fear? If Apep caught someone trying to sneak out of camp what do you think would happen? Probably has happened. And those who were caught were no doubt made an example of. Fear is a powerful motivator.”

  Marissa frowned. “We want unity. We want to end this civil war. But it’s gone on so long and people are so inured in their ways…including us. We have thought of Templars as ‘the enemy’ for so long but you’re saying many of them are just misguided. What about the souls they suppress? Once a Templar Blends with its host it suppresses the host soul. Templars are not going to want to change that. To ‘share’ their bodies. They prefer things the way they are.”

  “Not all. Not all suppress. We are told to by Odjit, but there are those who don’t agree and allow an equal Blending to take place.”


  “What about you? What have you done?” Viève asked.

  Kamen frowned. “I have suppressed my host. I have never wanted to do otherwise…until recently. I want to put us on equal footing again, but it will have to wait until after this threat is dealt with. I need complete control of my body and my conscience.”

  “That sounds like an excuse to me,” Marissa said harshly.

  “It is a truth. The fact is I am far more succinct and cutthroat than my host is. My host soul has also witnessed the things I have done. That has no doubt caused damage to his psyche. There will be a time for reconciliation, but that time is not now.”

  “I understand,” Viève said. “But you will reconcile after?”

  “I will,” he said with a nod. “It will make me a different person; one I hope you can give the benefit of the doubt to when the time comes,” he said to Marissa.

  “I’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Marissa said coolly.

  “You’re not being fair!” Viève said with frustration.

  “Viève…” Kamen said.

  “No! You’re trying. You’re making an effort here. And you have been for the better part of a year. You’re doing more than anyone else to put this all together. I think you deserve a little bit of consideration for that!”

  “You say this after only being here and knowing him for a day?” Marissa said, her tone tightly curious.

  “Yes. He’s told me what he’s done. I understand people were hurt—”

  “People were tortured,” Marissa interrupted. “One of them is living under this roof and still having nightmares because of it!”

  “All right I get that!” Viève cried. “But are you going to torture him in return to make up for it?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then as I see it that leaves you only one other option. Forgiveness. And you can’t just give lip service to it. You have to mean it and start treating him with a modicum of respect. At least do him the courtesy of including him in a conversation. It’s just like with the Wraiths. You’re going to have to forgive them for their past deeds if you are going to move into the future with them with any semblance of unity. You’re willing to do that, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “No! No buts. It’s either forgiveness or it isn’t. Make up your mind.”

  “Maybe you need to talk to Leo before you start talking about forgiveness,” Marissa said in a hard tone. “Every individual here is going to have to decide for themselves whether or not they think he’s worthy of forgiveness. I can’t speak for all of them. I certainly can’t speak for Leo. And I’ve died on the other end of the Curse of Ra thrown from his hands.” She jerked a thumb at Kamen. “Do you know what it’s like to be killed? To be torn apart from another soul and then thrust into the Ether where you have to wait around for a hundred years before you’re able to reincarnate? To be deprived of the man you love because you’ve been hunted down by this Templar and his queen? Until you do, don’t talk to me about forgiveness.”

  Marissa turned her back on them and stormed out of the kitchen.

  Kamen sighed. “Thank you for the effort, but they have every right to feel the way that they do. I have caused a great deal of pain. I was sorely misguided for many generations.”

  “You’ve made mistakes,” she said with a frown. “We all make mistakes.”

  “Mine were very serious ones.”

  “I get that. I do. But I’ve seen Wraiths use their deathtouch like it was nothing. It’s so easy to take a life with just a touch. A Nightwalker life. And while the actual death part of the deathtouch doesn’t work on humans, the plague part does. We can make a human being very ill—so ill that it can easily lead to death. It manifests as pneumonia or Ebola or anything in between. Humans put it down to chance, bad luck. But I know Wraiths who don’t think twice about making a human sick. They make a sport of it. Enjoy watching them suffer. It’s horrible. And I’m certainly not proud of being a Wraith when it comes to things like that.

  “Do I think they’re sincere about this whole idea of unity with the other Nightwalkers? I don’t know. But if this is going to work, we have to forgive them for those sins and make an honest effort at working together, at putting past transgressions in the past. It has to be done with the Wraiths and it has to be done with you. Otherwise all of this is just talk and it will never go anywhere.” Viève looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, pushing away from the counter. Kamen reached out and took her arm in his hand, stopping her from going.

  “Don’t. Don’t leave because of this.”

  “I just need some time to clear my head. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “All right,” he said with reluctance, letting her go. “I’ll meet you in our rooms in an hour.”

  “Okay.” She smiled wanly at him. “I’ll be there.”

  She left the kitchen.

  Chapter 16

  Viève walked outside and found a gathering of Nightwalkers on the lawn. The Phoenixes were there as well as Kat, the Djynn, and Ahnvil, her Gargoyle husband. No one knew exactly where the Gargoyle fit in with all the prophecies and such floating about. But the odds were pretty damn high the Templars would show up with their Gargoyle slaves in tow, ready to do their dirty work. Having their own Gargoyles to combat them was extremely important.

  Marissa and Jackson were there as well. And there was the Night Angel, Faith, and other Gargoyles and Bodywalkers Viève did not know. There were also the humans, watching from the sidelines.

  They split into teams and began to play, each using their abilities to try and capture the flag from the opposing team.

  It was the first time anyone got to see the Phoenixes use their ability.

  And what an ability it was. They could throw fire. In many different forms. They could form balls, arrows, darts—all made of fire. They could form a lasso of fire and throw it around an opponent. It had no ability to actually hold the opponent, but it was still encircling the opponent with fire.

  It was very powerful.

  But the Bodywalkers innate abilities were just as impressive and were quite varied. There was Jackson’s ability to move tremendous things with the force of his mind alone. And there was Tameri’s/Docia’s Templar abilities that, like Kamen, could cast spells such as the Curse of Ra. Although it was obvious she was using a watered down version of the red energy bolt for the sake of the games, as no one was truly injured by it.

  Ram’s ability was control of the weather, but since there was no real practical use for that, outside of a lightning strike which he could not use to practice with, he relied on pure strength. He could pack a punch that would rock his opponent’s world. One strike of his fist could shatter a boulder into tiny smithereens. An interesting ability to have when up against Gargoyles, who were made of stone.

  As the two teams fought against each other, Viève walked down the sidelines, making a beeline for Leo. He was watching his wife with a measure of frustration; it was clear he wanted to be out there by her side. But he had to realize that even if he was armed, there was little he could do in this kind of fight.

  And it was clear that fact burned him.

  “Go get ’em, babe!” he shouted out onto the field. Then he saw Viève and gave her a guarded, “Hey.”

  “Hello. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

  “Sure. About what?”

  “Kamen.”

  Leo stiffened. He gave her a hard look. “What about him?”

  “I know that he hurt you—”

  “You know that, huh? How well do you think you know that? Do you know what it’s like to have strips of your skin peeled off you? To have your belly cut open and your insides taken out and shown to you? To watch a psychopath play in your blood? Do you know that?”

  Viève paled. “No,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “But…” she said gingerly, “are you going to
make him pay for it forever? Is there something you can do that will make you feel like the scales are balanced?”

  Leo frowned. “I wouldn’t even do that to my worst enemy. I guess my worst enemy is a lucky fellow.” He eyed her critically. “Very lucky. I didn’t think anyone could stand his company, let alone be touched by him.”

  “He’s not the monster you think he is. Not anymore.”

  “And you know this after what…a day of fucking him?”

  She flinched but said, “Yes. It’s only taken me a day to realize there is a good man trying to get out from under his deeds of the past.”

  “It’s hard to look beyond those deeds and see what you think you see.”

  “Hard, but not impossible. If you try.”

  “So you want me to just forget everything that happened to me? Forgive and forget?”

  “Forgive, yes. Forget…I only wish that you could. I’m sure you do too.”

  Leo toed a clump of dirt on the ground. “Yeah. More than you know.” He looked at her. “So you think I should hold hands with him and sing ‘Kumbaya’?”

  “No. But maybe everyone could stop punishing him and start helping him as he tries to do the right thing.”

  “We are helping him. Look out at this field. This is us helping him get everyone working together.”

  “Yes. And this is great. A real achievement—one that wouldn’t have happened without him. The Empress of the Mysticals will be here soon and then you will have all twelve Nightwalkers under the same roof. Finally. Thanks to Kamen.”

  Leo was silent, his jaw working a moment. “I do give him credit for that.”

  “You do? How?”

  “What? You want us to hug it out?”