Viève walked away with Kamen, her mind spinning. They wanted her to come back. They wanted her. She had been stressing out, trying to think of a way to make herself useful to them so that she would be allowed to stay, but then Jackson had asked her to come back.
Tears threatened and she didn’t know why. No. Wait. She did know why. No one had ever wanted her before. No one had ever gone out of their way to request her presence. No one except maybe Kamen. But Kamen wanted her for sex. It was great sex and more than she had ever hoped to have in her life, but it was still just sex. And that was the way it should be after only a day of knowing one another. She couldn’t possibly ask for more. But what a day it had been. Twenty-four hours had changed her life so dramatically. The lives of all the Nightwalkers had been changed so dramatically.
But here now was an opportunity to maybe make things…more. Maybe she could find a place here. A wanted place. Maybe one day Kamen might want her for more than sex. She didn’t see how, seeing as though he was so driven to do other things and…well…she was who she was. But at least there was a chance she could maybe make herself useful to him to the point where he might not want to let her go. Not any time soon. Oh, she had no doubt that it would come to an end at some point. She would invariably do something stupid or wrong and it would piss him off enough that he would be done with her. But until then she wanted to live this life of feeling like she was wanted. However long or short a time as it was, she wanted to live this life.
And who knew…maybe when Kamen was done with her she might still find a place here among these people. They had all been so kind and accepting so far. Again, she had not had the opportunity to screw up yet, and that was only a matter of time. At least they had found her useful so far. Now all she had to do was keep being useful to them. And she could be. If there was a coming battle, her deathtouch could make a difference.
If she was able to do it. She had never used her deathtouch before. Not to pass plague or to kill a Nightwalker. Her cell members had sneered that she was a coward, that she didn’t have it in her to be a true Wraith. That she was watered down by her half-breed genes.
But she would be able to do it. She would continue to play their games and become more comfortable with the idea of touching someone in a fight. When Apep came she would be unafraid to do what she had to do.
Or at least that was what she hoped.
“You’re deep in thought,” Kamen remarked to her.
“Hmm? Oh. I…I was just thinking of what we will say to the Doyen.”
“We will simply tell him what we have done and that it is time for him to hold up his side of the bargain.”
“I pray it’s that easy,” she said wistfully.
“Come.” He came to a stop and held out his hands to her. She took them readily. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. She had learned it was best to close her eyes during the streak. It made it wholly less disconcerting. She closed her eyes and focused on where they had to go, just as she had the first time. She didn’t know if he needed her to, since he already had been there and knew where it was, but she did it all the same.
The streak was hard and fast. They left it with a jolt and when she opened her eyes they were once more inside the wire fence in that desolate desert area. She was still holding his hands, so she was easily able to phase them together and pushed them down into the rock and soil. They appeared in the same room as before, only this time it was by design rather than happenstance.
However, the room was empty. They moved toward the door and peeked out of it. There was a large hallway just beyond the door and they could hear people talking. They slipped out into the hall quietly. They had to find the Doyen without running into any of his subordinates first. To be safe, Viève made sure she had tight hold of Kamen’s hands. As long as he was phased, no one could use their deathtouch on him. She would not see him harmed through some sort of misunderstanding.
The hallway emptied out into a large living area, a well-appointed room with marble tiled floors, thick Persian rugs and old restored antiques. The artwork on the walls was large and, no doubt, expensive.
There were three men in the living area. Each was seated on different chairs, all facing one another. None of them was the Doyen. They were Wraiths in business suits, their gray hair and faces standing out sharply against navy blue and black fabrics.
Viève and Kamen snuck back into the hallway. There were several doors leading off it that might lead them to the Doyen. They phased through one of the doors and found themselves in a large bathroom with shining black marble and brushed nickel fixtures. Luckily it was unoccupied. The thing about phasing was it was easy to phase into someone else’s privacy.
There was a second door adjoining into the bath and they moved toward it, their feet floating six inches off the floor. This time when they phased through the door the room was very much occupied. They stumbled right into a large office that had at least four Wraiths in it.
Someone caught sight of them right away.
“What the hell?”
Viève panicked as all four Wraiths turned to face them. She went to push off. To get them out of there.
Three of the occupants of the room came rushing toward them.
“Viève, wait!” Kamen said.
“No! I have to get you out of here!”
“Viève, it’s the Doyen!”
Viève stopped moving and turned to see that the fourth person, sitting in a relaxed pose behind the desk, was the Doyen.
The other three Wraiths reached them and formed a wall between them and the Doyen.
“I can’t get to him,” Viève whispered. “Wraiths can’t phase through one another!”
“Gentlemen,” the Doyen spoke up, “let the half-breed through.”
The Wraiths cast doubtful glances between each other and the Doyen. Then they stepped aside and let Viève and Kamen move forward. They came to a stop on the other side of the desk.
“Well now, I really hadn’t thought I would see you two again,” he said.
“We’ve done what you asked!” Viève blurted out. “All eleven Nightwalkers are joined together. The Wraiths are the only holdouts.”
The Doyen absorbed this news slowly. Then he stood up and came around the desk to face them.
“All eleven? Even the Mysticals?”
Paulette had not said she would or she wouldn’t join them, but she had attended their game play all night and did not seem to be in a hurry to leave.
“Yes,” Viève said uneasily. Why did it matter to him if the Mysticals in specific were joined? Why not ask about the Phoenixes or some other breed?
“All have joined and we can now see and connect with one another. The curse that separated us has been lifted.”
“Ah. I’m sure our master would be most displeased to hear about that.”
“Master?” Kamen echoed suspiciously.
“Apep,” the Doyen said. “Or so he claims to be. Our master, that is. He says he created our race from the dust of the earth and now we owe all that we are to him. That we are bound to serve him.”
“And will you? Serve him?” Kamen asked, his tone hard.
“I confess I had not decided. I was trying to figure out what would cause the least amount of damage and inconvenience to my people. Do we serve the whims of an egomaniacal lunatic, or do we stand alone against him and his wrath and watch him cut a swath through our numbers. But now here you are presenting me with a third option; to join a rebellion against the god; perhaps defeating him and chasing him from this plane of existence.
“I admit, I find that idea intriguing. But a rebellion will cost lives as well. So, as a leader I must ask myself this: which way will allow for the least loss of Wraith life?” He regarded them a moment. “You really have the Mysticals on board?”
“Why do you keep asking about them?” Viève asked.
“Silence, half-breed!” one of the other Wraiths snapped. Kamen watched her cringe and immediately shrink back.
It angered him. Angered him like nothing had angered him since the day Odjit had been put into a coma. But this anger seemed hotter…more pure. He tried to school himself. The last time he had let his temper have free rein, people had been hurt and a god had been unleashed.
But to see her so abused made him burn.
“I will have your answer,” Kamen said recklessly. “We have done as you asked. An honorable man would adhere to his part of the bargain.”
“The flaw in that,” the Doyen said smoothly, “is the assumption that I am an honorable man.”
“He isn’t going to help us,” Viève said in a small whisper.
The Doyen smiled. “On the contrary. I am going to help you. Why, I will send a troop of Wraiths with you right now. How many do you require? A hundred? A thousand?”
Kamen suddenly had a feeling they had been led into a trap. A feeling that the Doyen’s offer was not to be trusted.
“We will contact you with that information,” Kamen lied.
“I insist you let me send some with you now. A small contingent of men. Felix, Darius, and Raymond will accompany you and will send word back to me as to what more is needed,” the Doyen said. He turned to his men and said, “See to it our interests are served well.”
“I cannot bring them all with me,” Kamen said. “I will give you the location of our base of operations and you can join us there.”
The Doyen frowned. “Surely you can take at least one with you?”
“One,” Kamen agreed tightly.
“Excellent. The rest will join you by conventional means. Felix.”
Felix stepped forward, a toothy grin on his long face. “I am ready,” he said.
“Viève, I need to touch him,” Kamen said quietly.
“No,” she whispered.
“Viève, release me from the phase. I’ll be safe, I promise you.”
“Is there a problem, half-breed?” the Doyen asked her.
She quailed. “N-n-no.”
“Well then, let’s get on with it.”
“Touch him only on his clothing,” Viève whispered to him anxiously.
Kamen nodded and she released her phase so that Kamen might reach out and touch the Wraith on his suit jacket. They entered the streak instantaneously.
The moment they exited the streak, Viève yanked him out of contact with the Wraith who, predictably, became sick to his stomach. He vomited in the grass.
They were standing off to the right of the field where the Nightwalkers were running their game, their skills being used to the utmost as each tried to best the other’s side.
Standing on the sidelines, not too far away from them, were Max, Leo, Angelina, and Paulette. Apparently Paulette was not interested in playing the game, but she was watching Grey attend them. Grey was a significant advantage over the opposing team. His magic seemed boundless and he was creative and powerful. He could conjure almost anything he desired. Most recently it had been three suits of armor that fought as though men were inside of them…yet they were empty of anything living.
Viève had a death grip on Kamen, ready to phase him away from the Wraith’s touch if necessary.
“I don’t trust him,” she whispered against his ear.
“Neither do I, but aren’t you the one preaching to everyone about second chances and forgiveness? We must extend trust…until that trust is broken.”
“But at what cost?”
Kamen didn’t respond because the Wraith was recovering, standing up dizzily and taking deep breaths.
“What the fuck was that?” he ground out angrily.
“It’s called a streak. It is not the most pleasant way to travel, but it is the fastest.”
“Go back and bring the two others here as well,” Felix commanded him.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. My magic has limitations and this spell has exhausted me,” Kamen said.
Viève knew it to be a lie. Kamen was more than capable of going back and getting the other Wraiths. She felt relief that they would only have one Wraith to contend with…at least for now. Which was no doubt Kamen’s design.
The Wraith looked around, and took in everything going on around him. He saw Paulette and immediately made a beeline to get to her. Kamen was a half-step behind him. He quickly cast his protection bubble, and then took the man’s arm in hand , pulling him to a stop.
“Allow me to introduce you to everyone,” he said, turning Felix toward the playing field. “Jackson!”
Jackson looked up at his name being called and upon seeing the Wraith immediately left the game. Marissa followed him.
“Jackson, this is Felix. Felix, this is Jackson and Marissa, Pharaohs of the Bodywalkers.”
“Half the Bodywalkers,” Felix said with a derisive snort.
“True,” Jackson said carefully, “we are not united. But every day I hope we will be.”
“Not with Apep leading the Templars you won’t. When Apep comes for you—and he will come for you—he’s going to use the Templars as cannon fodder. You will be forced to kill your own kind. There will be no unity.”
“That remains to be seen,” Jackson said, his eyes washing over the business-suited man. “What about you? What do you do for the Doyen?”
“Whatever he asks me to do. Right now, he wants me to check out your story about having all of the Nightwalkers joined.”
“As you can see, it is a truth, not a story,” Jackson said, indicating the field of players.
“I would have you introduce me to all of the players in the game against Apep. One of each race. Then I will tell my Doyen that your tales are truths. Let’s start with her.”
He turned hard and pointed to Paulette. Paulette paled, going a sickly shade of white.
“Grey!” she cried as the Wraith took two steps toward her. But Kamen was there again, holding his arm.
“This is Paulette, a Mystical, but you already know that, don’t you?” Kamen said.
“What if I do?” The Wraith tried to shrug off his touch.
Viève watched the struggle with bated breath, her skin cold and clammy, her palms sweating. Kamen was so close to danger. So close to death. All the Wraith had to do was touch him and he would be dead.
She clung to Kamen’s free arm and stared hard at every move the Wraith made. She didn’t even notice that though she was holding on to him, her hands didn’t actually ‘touch’ his skin and clothing.
If Felix so much as changed the slightest bit of color, Viève would phase Kamen. For when a Wraith was about to use his deathtouch, his hands turned a venous blue. But it could happen in the blink of an eye, so it was barely enough of a warning. She wanted to phase Kamen anyway, but Kamen was keeping the Wraith away from Paulette with the presence of his solid body.
“What is it the Wraiths find so interesting about the Mysticals?” Kamen asked him, still keeping hold of him. The Wraith could have phased right through him, he realized. He was allowing himself to be held. Why?
“Why, their sheer beauty of course,” the Wraith said, giving Paulette a long once-over.
By now Grey had come off the field and went to stand in front of her, placing his body between her and the Wraith. Grey was not a small man and his body adequately sheltered Paulette.
“You aren’t like the Djynn. You can derive no power from them as nikkis,” Kamen said.
“As I said, it is their beauty which lures us. As you may have noticed, Wraiths lack color in their looks. And diversity. The Mysticals are always beautiful in both their forms. And we can see their aura. It shines…warms us. Adds color to a drab, colorless existence. And it’s addicting. Strengthening. It is like a drug that makes us feel all-powerful, as if we cannot be stopped and can conquer anything.”
“I can’t see an aura,” Viève said.
“You’re a fucking half-breed,” he snapped.
Kamen saw red. “Speak to her in that tone of voice and in that derisive way again,” he said through his teeth, “and I will rip out your tongue.”
/> The Wraith snorted out a laugh. “You would break our fragile peace accord over a disgusting little half-breed?”
“Yes,” Kamen hissed. “We have many half-breeds here and we treat each and every one of them with respect. You will do the same or find yourself removed from our company. In what manner you’ll be removed will all depend on my mood at the time.”
The Wraith sucked at his teeth and gave Viève a derisive once-over.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll make nice with the half-breed.”
“I would prefer you avoid her altogether,” Kamen said. “Now we will continue our introductions.”
Kamen slowly introduced the other members of the Nightwalker clans.
“What of the eleventh race? I count only ten,” he said.
“The Shadowdweller is inside the house. He was injured during the stripping of the curse.”
“I will meet him.” The Wraith broke away from the group and marched toward the house. Kamen kept in stride beside him and said, “You will allow me to see if he is up to it. He may not be well enough yet.”
They went inside the house and the Wraith indicated that Kamen should show him the way. Kamen led him upstairs. The Wraith seemed to notice every detail, took everything in. When they stopped outside of Jackson and Marissa’s suite, Kamen held up a hand to stop him from entering. “I’ll be only a moment.”
“Very well,” the Wraith said.
Kamen disappeared into the room, leaving Viève, Jackson, and Marissa outside. The Wraith folded his arms across his thin chest and peered down at Viève.
“So your mother couldn’t control herself around one little human?” he said.
Viève blanched. She didn’t know all the details of her mother’s indiscretion, only that she regretted it and the result of it.
“A fact she regrets,” Viève said in a whisper.
“And so she should. Look at you. You’re too fleshy. Your face is round and fat. You have makeup on. Any decent Wraith woman wouldn’t be caught wearing makeup.”
“That’s not true. All the women in my cell wear makeup. They like the color.”
His frown was dour. “Perhaps,” he said. “Where is your cell?”
Nightwalker Page 21