Nightwalker

by Jacquelyn Frank

“No, I just want you to start treating him with the respect he’s earned. And he has earned it, hasn’t he?”

  “Some,” Leo admitted. “But it doesn’t erase the past.”

  “Nothing can erase the past. But the best thing for all of us is to leave it behind. The only way we’ll move forward is if we forgive the crimes of the past. For Kamen. For the Wraiths. For the Templars and the Gargoyles who fight with them. If we want true unity, it has to be done.”

  Leo tapped out a rhythm with his fingers against his thigh. It was quick and agitated.

  “I suppose you’re right about that,” he said reluctantly. “No. You’re definitely right about that. Damn it. And maybe it’s the only way for me to move on from this. To find a little peace with it. Peace I would desperately love to have.”

  “I think we all could use a little peace right about now. This accord…it’s very important.”

  “Yes. It is. Listen, let me think about this a little. Let me think about…about how to come to terms with this. With Kamen.”

  “Of course. I’m not here to force you into anything. That isn’t going to help at all.”

  “You couldn’t force me even if you wanted to,” Leo said. “But you do have me thinking. I’m not an ignorant man. A stubborn one, but not an ignorant one.”

  “I would never accuse you of that.”

  “But I’m running the risk of being that, aren’t I? Being closed-minded. Prejudiced. You’re right. That’s not going to fly if we’re to make any kind of peace with each other.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for at least thinking about it.”

  “You’re welcome. Now c’mon. You gonna get out there and play or what?”

  “Oh no! I can’t. I can’t use my deathtouch.”

  “No, but you can touch. We’ll use the honor system. If you touch someone then they’re out of the game until that round is over. C’mon, it’ll be good practice for everyone.”

  “Well…all right.”

  Viève walked out onto the field and played.

  —

  Kamen came out onto the porch and watched.

  He sat with a cup of coffee in one of the rocking chairs facing out toward the front of the property where everyone was gathered. He rocked the chair in an absentminded fashion, his attention trained on Viève and the group of fighters out on the lawn. She looked so small compared to everyone else out there. The thing about Bodywalkers was that they got to pick and choose who they were resurrected into, whose body they were going to share. True, the human had to be on the brink of death, but there were plenty of beautiful people dying all the time. So, every last one of the Bodywalkers out there were tall and beautiful, save Docia. Tameri had chosen a simple, pretty girl with extra curves to be reborn into.

  As the only other Templar there, the first of their kind to defect to and be accepted by the Politic side, Tameri was the only one out on the field wielding the Curse of Ra. He should really join them, give them two targets to work against, one on each team. This way both teams got a taste of what it felt like to come up against the Curse. When they met up with the Templars, the Curse was going to be their main weapon and it was important they were battle-ready against it.

  But he stayed where he was, sipping his coffee and watching Viève play. In the beginning she was withdrawn and shy, looking very awkward out on the field. Until Jackson flung a boulder the size of a Buick at her and she reacted instinctively, phasing so that it passed through her harmlessly. She took it personally. He could tell by the expression that immediately crossed her face. But then she seemed to shake herself up, she set her chin and launched into the air. Apparently, while she was phased, she could fly. It hadn’t even occurred to him. But it should have. How else had she gotten them in and out of the Doyen’s stronghold? They had “flown” up and down through the earth.

  She flew straight at Jackson and before he could dodge her she solidified and touched him.

  “Aw, man!” Kamen heard him cry. When she had joined the game Leo had outlined the rules. If Viève touched the player he was out of the game until the next round.

  Before long she was caught up in the nature of the game. Yes, they were practicing battle techniques, but they were having fun while doing it. Before long she was laughing and joking with the rest of them.

  They had accepted her.

  Good. He had been worried about that. Worried that her association with him would taint her. Still, it hadn’t kept his hands off her, he thought grimly. He’d been too selfish. He’d wanted her too much.

  He was touched by the way she leapt to defend him, but he could have told her it was a losing battle. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, couldn’t she see that? This business with the Wraiths and Templars was different. That was about forgiving a people as a whole; not about forgiving specific crimes of an individual.

  Right?

  He frowned to himself. Wait. That didn’t make sense. A people as a whole was made up of individuals. Each of those individuals had committed heinous acts against others and yet, if they were going to be given forgiveness as a whole…then that meant his crimes should also fall under the title of forgiveness.

  But did the Templars and the Wraiths truly deserve that forgiveness? Did they deserve it any more or less than he did?

  He could think himself in circles about this. In the end it came down to what he personally felt he deserved. And he did not think he deserved the forgiveness of people like Leo, whom he had wronged so egregiously.

  He watched her play for a little while longer, then he went back into the house. He didn’t know when the Empress was going to make an appearance, but he wanted to be ready for her when she did. He might only have all twelve races together in the same room for a short time. Since he could not find anything about reversing the curse, his only recourse was to make something up on his own. He would draw in components from other similar spells and create a new spell, honing the magic to a specific task. He might just be powerful enough to do it. If the second most powerful magic-using being on earth couldn’t bring this to fruition, then no one could. No one on their side anyway. Perhaps Odjit could have, but she was clearly not going to be casting any spells any time soon. Certainly not to their benefit.

  He found his journal and began leafing through the pages. He looked up some time later when Viève sat at his feet with a flounce and rested her chin on his knee as she panted softly for breath.

  “I’m pooped!” she declared.

  “You’ve only been out there a few minutes.”

  “I’ve been out there for over an hour!” She pointed to the clock and he was surprised to see how much time had passed while he was studying his journal. “What are you doing?” she asked him.

  “Looking for answers,” he said with an exhalation of breath. “I’m constructing a spell I hope will lift the veil between the First and Second Factions of Nightwalkers.”

  “Well, I won’t bother you then,” she said, moving to get up and leave him. But he caught her shoulder in his hand and with a gentle press kept her at his feet. “Don’t go,” he said quietly.

  She gave him a half a smile. “But you’ll study much better without me to distract you.”

  “That may be true, but the studying will be far less enjoyable.”

  “So what am I to do? Sit at your feet and watch you?” she asked, indicating her position on the floor with a sweep of her hand.

  “No,” he said with a twitch of his lips. “The idea of you on the floor at my feet will definitely not be conducive to me concentrating.”

  Her smile turned sly as she got up on her knees and moved around his feet until she was kneeling between his legs, her hands running up the length of his thighs. Her hands felt hot through the material of his jeans. All of the concentration of the past hour flew right out the window. Thoughts turned numb as sensation took over. She leaned forward, her breasts a warm weight against the fly of his jeans. Her touch drifted up the ridges of his abdomen until her flat
palms were running over his chest.

  “Are you concentrating now?” she asked.

  “Yes. On the wrong thing, however,” he said. He reached out and traced a thumb across a cheek that was ruddy with her outdoor play in the cool night air.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked coyly. Her hands reversed direction and drew down his chest, rode over the hard bumps of his belly muscles and she reared back to make way for her hands to rub right down the length of his fly. He sucked a breath in through his teeth. She found him hard beneath her touch and she rubbed at him some more.

  “There is no time for this,” he murmured tightly.

  “Yes. You are right,” she said contritely, once more rising to get up. Again he stopped her from doing so with a firm hand on her shoulder.

  “We will make time,” he said.

  She smiled and leaned forward, pressing her breasts against him as he leaned forward for a kiss of great depth and greater heat. All the while her hands worked between them to unfasten his jeans, pulling the zipper down. With a few tugs she pulled his jeans down past his hips. Then she dipped her hand into his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his hardening shaft. She licked her soft pink lips and his whole body tightened with need and want. His hands had gone to her shoulders, and now his fingers tightened around her flesh. She pulled him free of his boxers and stroked him from root to tip.

  “Are you concentrating still?” she asked him, doing that provocative licking of her lips again.

  “Very much so,” he said raspily.

  “Good. Now try and stay focused,” she said, the light of mischief in her eyes.

  “I shall do my level best,” he said.

  She laughed at him and he smiled as she dipped her head down and blew a soft, sustained breath across his heated flesh. Then she took a deep breath in.

  “I love the way you smell. Like bergamot and man and sex all wrapped up into one.” She leaned forward and touched her tongue to the tip of his cock, giving him an experimental lick. Then she regarded him with serious eyes. “You’ll tell me if I’m doing this wrong?” she asked him.

  “You’re already doing it right,” he said huskily.

  She smiled at that. Then she dipped her head again and this time she danced her tongue all around his glans. She picked him up into her hand and stroked him as she closed her mouth fully around him. He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth and she hesitated, looking up at him with question in her eyes. He shook his head. Content, she swirled her tongue around him again and sucked him deep into her mouth.

  There weren’t many places for him to put his hands. What he wanted to do was to bury them into her hair and guide her while he thrust into her mouth, but he didn’t want to control this. She was in control. She needed to be in control. It was important to her and therefore it was important to him.

  So he gripped the arms of the chair he was in and forced himself to relax, to take deep, even breaths. But that was hard to do when in the voracious mouth of a woman bent on pleasing every last one of his senses. His every nerve ending seemed to come alive, the electric sensations riding over and through him in wonderful waves. There was a thump of sound and some distant part of his brain registered that it was his journal hitting the floor. He couldn’t care less. Her mouth was hot and wet around him, first pulling him in, and then slowly sliding away. She employed one hand to stroke him whenever she receded, while her other hand curved around his hip, her fingers digging lightly into his left buttock. He had the inane thought that she was left-handed. He didn’t know why that should matter.

  She moved her hand aside so she could lick him from tip to root and back again. The act was slow and tortuous and he groaned in relief when she took him in her mouth again. He loved everything she was doing, every single slow stroke and sensual tasting, but a sense of urgency was beginning to build in him. He gripped at the arms of the chair, willing himself into submission. And yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from thrusting against her palate.

  “Gods, Viève, stronger,” he begged her. “Faster—yes!” He threw his head back and felt her obey his commands, let himself fall dizzily into the sensations she was providing for him. Need clawed through the seat of his sac, building up tightly there, readying for release. It wouldn’t take much longer. She was working him in earnest now, her mouth stroking and gliding and oh so heavenly sweet.

  “Viève! Viève, I’m going to come!” It was more a warning than a pronouncement. He didn’t want her to experience anything she wasn’t ready for. But she absorbed the announcement by redoubling her speed.

  Pure lust screamed through him. He shouted out and began to come in hard, pulsating bursts. Now his hands found her hair, his fingers boring through the fine strands. He gripped at her, trying to will himself into calming. But his heartbeat thundered on and on. He blinked his lashes, trying to clear his vision of the bursts of color he had seen so brightly.

  She let go of him and he sagged back into the chair.

  He tipped her head back and looked into her smiling eyes. They were the eyes of a woman satisfied with her accomplishment. And she should feel satisfied. She had wrung him out, made him lose even the smallest ounce of control.

  All focus and all thoughts of his magic had been shot straight to hell.

  Chapter 17

  When the Empress arrived, it was with Grey in tow. He had vowed never to leave her side during all of this, to protect her with all that he could. After all, she was his most powerful nikki. It was in his best interest.

  Kamen and Viève didn’t realize she had arrived at first. Kamen had gone back to studying his spell journals, carefully crafting together what he thought he would need to break the curse. He took portions of other curse breakers, a portion of reveal spells, and a little bit of truth spells. He drew them all together and thought he had come up with something that could work.

  When he and Viève went downstairs, it was with all the supplies he would need to cast the spell. He walked into the large common room and found almost everyone from the Second Faction sitting in the room. Apparently they had called a meeting of the groups to welcome the Empress. There was also Max, Angelina, and Leo, the three humans who had been acting as go-betweens between the two worlds. It was just what he needed. Everyone. Together. And he told them as much. Told them of his plans and his concocted spell. He could tell it didn’t go over well with many of the people in the room, but as Marissa said:

  “What other choice do we have?”

  “All right,” Leo said. “Everyone from both factions is in this room. And let me tell you, this whole sharing space thing is unnerving. From my perspective I see two people sitting in the same chair but it looks like they’re sitting inside one another. Very creepy.”

  “For the spell I am casting,” Kamen said, “we all need to occupy our own space in the room. If we suddenly become visible to one another we don’t want to be occupying the same space, just in case.”

  It took some rearranging and communication through the humans in the room, but eventually they were all in their own individual space.

  “Now I want to clear any extraneous people from the room. All I need is one person from each race in here at the same time. Choose who stays and who goes.”

  After Leo relayed this message, the Second Faction cleared the room except for Viève, the Wraith; Paulette, the Mystical; Grey the Djynn; Kamen, the Bodywalker, Faith, the Night Angel; and Cordo the Phoenix.

  On the First Faction’s side it was Sagan, the Shadowdweller; Bella, the Druid; Jacob, the Demon; Jasmine, the Vampire; Jinaeri the Lycanthrope; and Windsong, the Mistral.

  “Leo, you and Angelina and Max are going to serve as our links. Everyone is to hold hands with each other using our human friends as the link between First and Second Factions. While you are doing that, I am going to get everything ready.”

  Everyone in the room linked hands. To those on the Second Faction’s side it looked as though Leo was holding hands with thin air on one sid
e and Faith on the other. The only one not connected was Kamen, who was preparing the components of his spell. Viève stood on the end of the line of linked hands, waiting to take his hand in hers.

  “I hope like hell this works,” Leo said, his mistrust of Kamen and all things magical coming through in his voice and his expression. “This is starting to piss me off. We need to be able to connect with each other.” He held up his hands, one of which held Faith’s, the other of which held Bella’s. He could see them both, feel them both, and yet they were not able to see each other even though they were so close. It was frustrating. They needed to come together. It was the only way.

  “I am ready to begin,” Kamen said as he lit a sage wand and burned it until the smoke filled the air. He set it down in a dish and let it continue to burn. Then he opened his journal to the page he had used to craft the spell on and laid it down on the coffee table next to the burning sage. There were other herbal components strewn out on the table. Rosemary for remembrance. Thyme for constancy. Saffron for awareness. Paprika for harmony. He had brought every herb he could think of that had to do with awareness or remembrance. The sage was just to cleanse the room of any residual magic, if there was any. That meant dispelling the darkness spell Valera used to protect her husband, Sagan, so he had seen the main breaker shut off first.

  “This may feel strange, it may even manifest violently,” Kamen said. “It is imperative that no one breaks the circle at any time.” He looked to his left at Angelina who stood waiting with her hand held out and Viève on his right doing the same.

  He took their hands simultaneously.

  The room exploded.

  Or that was how it felt. Lightning struck in the center of the living room, wind began to blow violently around them, whipping at their hair and stinging their eyes. A clap of thunder was heard all around them and the room began to shake violently, as if there was an earthquake. Angelina fell to the ground, but Kamen gripped her hand harder.

  “Don’t break the circle!” he shouted to all of them. Leo echoed the warning to the First Faction.