Forged: The World of Nightwalkers (24 page)

Bella was chewing on a nail anxiously as she waited for her husband to check them into a hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Portales was apparently another three and a half hours away by car. Luckily they didn’t need a car. Jacob could just turn them to dust and they could ride the currents of the wind. But it was daylight now and he was severely weakened in daylight. So they had decided to wait until dusk before finishing their journey.

“I don’t understand it,” she said for the thousandth time. “I know what she did. She pulled that man aside and asked him to describe me. Which meant he could see her as well. So what that means is …”

“Only
we
cannot see her,” Jacob said. “I cannot even see her written responses to you. So what makes it possible for you to communicate with her? And why can we not see her in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” she said in exasperation. They had gone over and over this and still they couldn’t figure out a solution.

“I cannot believe we have come all this way,” Jacob said. Bella knew it wasn’t a complaint. He was more perplexed than anything. They wondered what it was that coming here was supposed to do for them. Who
were these people that the mystery woman was supposed to know? How were they supposed to help them?

The only way to know was to see this task through to its very end. Jacob didn’t know how he felt about all of this. He thought he should feel uneasy, but he didn’t for some reason. Probably because Bella didn’t seem to feel that way. If she didn’t have a sense that there was any trouble, then there probably wasn’t any reason to feel that there might be something to worry about.

So here they were, close to their goal, hindered only by the light of day.

Some vacation this was turning out to be. But, on the plus side, he’d never been to the Southwest before. He was finding it to be quite beautiful with its low scrubby vegetation, the large dark mountain in the distance that signified the tail end of the Rocky Mountains, the sweeping roadways and overpasses done in soft pinks, and the adobe houses. There was nothing but wild country in any direction outside of Albuquerque.

“Come on. Let’s get a little bit of rest,” he said, drawing his wife beneath the wing of his arm. She raised a brow at him.

“Only a little bit?”

He grinned, unable to help himself. “Well, you have to help me salvage this vacation somehow.”

“Oh. I see,” she said with a laugh. “So you want me to use my body to mollify you for dragging you around all over creation when you’d much rather have been making love to me?”

“That about sums it up,” he said, his grin full of bold mischief.

“You know, I’m all right with that,” she said with a grin of her own.

They headed up to their room.

The hotel staff couldn’t figure out why the lights, the heat, and the elevators suddenly decided to go on the
fritz, seemingly at the same time. They had no idea that Demon physiology was playing havoc with them.

Panahasi didn’t find out about his failure until the next night at dusk. He was beyond enraged as the sole survivor, the female Bodywalker minion he had sent, related the tale of what had happened. He realized belatedly that he should have sent more forces, but he hadn’t thought there would be more than just the Gargoyle to deal with. He screamed out like a temperamental child. He would have beaten the underling messenger if not for the fact that she already looked like she was close to death. The last thing he needed was for Apep to find another dead body in close proximity to him.

“You will keep yourself hidden from sight until you heal,” Panahasi commanded of her.

“Yes, my lord,” she mumbled, still fighting to breathe from the lungs that had been bruised and the ribs that had been snapped. She’d had to hide from the sun in an old, unused hangar for the entire day, which was no mean trick when airport security had been combing the area for whatever it was that had torn up the tarmac and killed what appeared to them to be two humans. Eventually, they would come to the conclusion that it had been some kind of freak lightning strike, an autopsy revealing nothing except human remains that had been struck by lightning.

Panahasi paced, trying to think of his next course of action. He didn’t have the resources to attack the Politic stronghold. And even if he did he couldn’t because he knew that Odjit was planning some kind of attack on them at some later date. He suspected she was waiting until after the birth of her child so she could spearhead the attack.

There was a great deal of speculation about the child. Odjit kept saying how the offspring would be the most
powerful child of all time … which made no sense because Bodywalker children were mortal children and did not carry the power of their Bodywalker parents. So that called into question the father of the child. The running bet was Kamen. Kamenwati had been her first lieutenant. For many reincarnations now their followers had suspected they were lovers, but there had never been any outright proof. And if Kamen were the father the same question arose. The child would only be mortal. There were many who believed it was another Nightwalker. What kind was a good question, but no one would know, he supposed, until after the birth and right now Panahasi had more things to worry about than who his mistress had been screwing and getting knocked up by.

This was going to take some thinking.

“My lord,” the useless female underling said.

“Do not speak to me. Your failure disgusts me! Now be gone from my sight.”

“But my lord, the pendant you asked about … the one you sent us to retrieve …”

Panahasi turned to her with a vicious glare, unhappy to be reminded of his failed goal. “Speak and then be gone from my sight,” he snarled at her.

“It is being worn by a mortal girl.”

That gave him pause. “A mortal? Are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be. The Gargoyle was protecting her as if she were in jeopardy … taking the Curse of Ra fully, risking death for himself just to protect her.”

“That’s his job,” he ground out to her. “The Gargoyles protect us.”

“This was different. And she didn’t use any power against us. She ran to a car and cowered within.”

This was an interesting piece of news, Panahasi realized. If the girl was mortal then that meant she could easily be killed or taken captive. The trouble would be
getting her away from the other Nightwalkers and Gargoyles in the complex. But surely she would want to leave eventually. Sometime when she would be unescorted? Yes. That was entirely possible. All he needed to do was wait.

“Tell me everything there is to know about this female mortal. Then go and send in Morris, Havamati, and Skylar. I have a task for them. Maybe they can accomplish what you failed to do.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Katrina awoke shortly before dusk. She had borrowed a shirt from those in Ahnvil’s closet to sleep in, but had no clothes to change into other than what she had worn the day before. She showered in his bathroom, touching his razor, smelling his shampoo. All of it seemed to suit him, right down to the T-shirts that engulfed her yet were no doubt snug across his muscled chest. She donned a fresh shirt, and, intent on asking one of the other women for clothes, she made her way out of his bedroom and down into the main body of the house. The only person she found was Ihron, another Gargoyle from the force that guarded the house. Apparently he had foregone rest and regeneration in order to protect the interior of the house while everyone else slept. As she understood it, they often chose one of the Gargoyle sentries to do this. He would be the first line of warning and defense if anything should happen within the house. He would then either regenerate in the dark for several hours or forego regeneration until the next day at dawn.

The only thing she was concerned about was Ahnvil. She would not relax until she could see him for herself at nightfall. She had only slept because she had been exhausted after such a long trip and the tension and effort necessary to keep Ahnvil from changing into permanent being. But it had been worth it. Worth saving
him. She wished she could go out there and touch him. Wished she could hold him until he changed back in her arms, back into the warm flesh and blood of a man. Just as he had done the last time they had been together.

“Is everyone still sleeping?” she asked. She kept looking at the clock. The polarized glass made it impossible to judge the height of the sun. To them it looked like it was night outside.

“They’ll be stirring soon enough,” he said soothingly as he made her a cup of coffee. She noted he had the exact same accent that Ahnvil did and it made her very curious. “Sugar?”

“Yes. And milk.” He dutifully prepared the cup and handed it to her. She perched nervously on the barstool of the counter and blew on the hot beverage. Karma had come up to her, nudging her big head under her hand and, getting the message, she absently began to pet her. She looked at the clock again.

Ihron chuckled at her. “Soon,” he said. “He’s fine. Doona worry.”

She laughed sheepishly. “Does it show? I guess I’ll feel better when I see him alive and breathing again.”

“He made it in time,” he assured her. “He has his touchstone.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” But she looked at the clock yet again. “You would know, right?”

“Aye.”

He came around the counter and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, coming to see you will be the very first thing he does. If I know him he will look on you as his tae protect. ’Tis what we’re bred for.”

“Bred for?”

“Our sole purpose was tae protect the Bodywalker who made us. With every generation the instinct was bred into us deeper and deeper. Sort of another way of keeping us loyal tae our makers. I’m happy to say it
doesna always work. But ’tis in our nature tae protect with all of our heart and soul what we deem needs protecting. That is what the Gargoyles here are doing. Protecting the Pharaoh and the body Politic.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Five at present. Diahmond, Ahnvil, Hector, Stohn, and myself.”

“Where is the
h
in your name?”

“He told you about that?” he asked, looking surprised. “ ’Tis in the second position.”

“So you’re the same generation as Ahnvil? You had the same maker?”

“More than that, we were clansmen before being turned. We were captured together, turned together, enslaved together. We even escaped together. No’ in the way that the recent Gargoyles are liberated. There’s a sort of an underground railroad for Gargoyles now. Gargoyles who are already freed help tae liberate those who are still captive or newly created. It gets more and more difficult, however, with every generation as the Gargoyle design is improved and their loyalty more deeply rooted. ’Tis hard to turn them away from their makers, even though they are slaves.”

“Was it hard for you?”

“Verra. Especially considering the skill of our maker. The story goes like this: Ahnvil had just stolen his touchstone. I was coming down the hall just as Ahnvil was running from the scene of his crime. I saw Ahnvil with his touchstone in hand and I had every intention of blocking his way, of keeping him from escaping.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No. I dinna.” He smiled with remembering. “He grabbed hold of me, threw me up again’ the wall, and said. ‘Your bloody stone is in that room for the taking. You can raise the alarm or you can come wi’ me, brother.’ ” He grinned. “Guess which one I chose?”

“Wow. I mean … wow.”

“Aye. Believe me when I say this, he could have been done wi’ me right then … killed me where I stood. We’re of different beasts, for all we’re alike. Mine made for grace and speed, his for brute strength.”

“What’s yours?” she asked, completely enthralled.

“A jaguar. Make no mistake, I’m plenty powerful, but in a head-to-head, hands down he’s the stronger of the two of us.”

She eyed his powerful physique, but she could see the lean grace in the lines of his body. “I can believe that. All of that.”

“I owe that man my life, my freedom, and more. I may be the leader of our tribe, but he’s the strongest of us. He doesna have the patience for it … leadership. Or so he says. And he may be right. But he’s always taken the initiative in all things and I depend on him for his advice a great deal.”

“He does seem very smart,” she said. And then, for inexplicable reasons, her eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey now. Doona be doing that. There’s a good lass,” he soothed her, drawing her close and patting her on the head. “What is it?”

“I just want him to be all right. You have no idea what he went through to get here.”

“I can imagine. He’s—”

A vicious snarl filled the air suddenly, cutting Ihron off. He went so tense so fast that it was like she was suddenly being held by iron, the real, legitimate metal. They both turned their heads and saw Ahnvil standing there, air rushing out of him in bullish huffs.

“Get back!” he snarled at Ihron. “Remove your touch from her this instant or you risk losing a hand. Nay, the whole bloody arm,” he threatened, his voice the darkest, hardest thing Kat had ever heard.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ahnvil!” she sputtered, her face
flooding with embarrassment as Ihron loosened his hold on her. Karma skittered away, backing off, the big dog sensing the sudden danger in the room. “We’re just talking!”

“Looks tae me like you’re touching,” he growled, that gravel in his voice grinding low and deep. His accent thickened, just as it did every time he was aroused to some strong emotion or another. Or when he was making outrageously lewd propositions to her.

He moved forward that last step and grabbed Ihron’s hand at the wrist and seeing the other Gargoyle, big as he was, solid as he was, just as able to turn to impenetrable stone as Ahnvil was, flinch … it had Katrina swallowing hard.

“I’m no’ hurting her,” Ihron said placatingly, speaking to Ahnvil as though he could try and tame the beast with a level tone of voice.

“I never said you were hurting her,” he said, a rumble of warning trebling out of him.

Ihron opened his arms and let Kat go.

Kat was breathing hard, awash in so many emotions and so much fear she could barely catch her breath. But just the same, self-preservation made her move. She backed away from the two of them with haste, never taking her eyes from them as she fumbled at the door for escape. Ahnvil had been glaring holes through Ihron with his eyes, but the sound of the doorknob rattling made him blink and he looked in her direction. There was no describing the dismay that washed through him when he saw the fear on her face. He hastened toward her but when she cried out he froze in place.