Forged: The World of Nightwalkers (35 page)

So she wondered if it was more practice that made the difference or just more powerful niks.

“Damn, if only I knew what to do!” she said fiercely to herself. She waited until he was gone for a good fifteen minutes before she went back to the bars and started looking around for things on the workbench that might be able to help her. Maybe more niks or even a set of spare keys. She would get far more use out of a set of spare keys. But there was nothing. Outside of all those jars full of weird things it was nearly impossible to figure out what was on the slovenly bench.

Then she started to wonder about the books themselves. Would there be anything of any use to her in them? She nixed that idea right away as well. Even from a distance she’d been able to tell he’d been trying to translate them from another language. And if he was having trouble in spite of having lived hundreds of centuries, then she wouldn’t have a chance.

So she decided to just practice with what she already had. She picked one thing on the table, a heavy mortar and pestle, and then tried to build a bridge to the store of energy in the bangle nik. When she finally reached it the influx of power was so strong it hit her like a sucker punch, blowing back her tangled hair, making her chest hurt and her hands go numb and tingly by turns. The sensations filled her with trepidation and she nervously
backed away from it. Almost immediately everything returned to normal.

Come on, come on! Get a grip if you wanna get out of this mess
, she told herself in a fierce sort of pep talk. By the time she got the nerve up to try again, someone was coming down the corridor outside and came into the room carrying a tray. It was the crude man with the cockney accent again. And sure enough, there on the tray lay a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk.

Note to self: Do not wish for pink hair
.

Surprisingly he didn’t hassle her. But before he could leave she said, “I really wish you’d give me that roll of toilet paper.”

Then, without any fanfare, he reached for the paper and handed it to her. Just like that. No arguments, no quid pro quo. She was tempted to wish for him to open the door, but she didn’t have a plan for what to do after that. She needed to practice levitation. If she could bring things to her, then maybe she could learn how to push them away. Maybe she could repel anyone who tried to come after her once she got free.

She was pretty certain by then that she could get them to open the door for her. They seemed easily suggestible. Especially this one. He was an underling to Panahasi, clearly, so it stood to reason that he was weaker than he was. If she could manipulate Panahasi that easily, then surely she could get this one to set her free when the time came.

The brute left and she hurriedly began to eat her sandwich, only then realizing how hungry she was. She ought to have been afraid they were going to poison her, she supposed, but the fact was Mr. Cockney was too eager to spill her blood. He would encourage his boss to let him resolve things in a far more violent manner. Or at least that was what she hoped.

And she was right, there was no poison in her food.

And that was very disquieting.

She was tired, but didn’t allow herself to doze off for even a minute. Not even when she had expended so much energy tapping into the two ornaments on her body in alternating trips, learning the feel of the different levels and flavors of energy. But she was miserly about it because she began to get the feeling that the energy was finite. That she might expend it all. Whether or not it would recharge over time was anybody’s guess, but she wasn’t going to waste her resources just in case it was a one shot deal. The bangle’s power was still overpowering every time she tried to touch its heart, but she made herself get used to it, exercising her mind until it started to come easier and easier for her to connect with it.

But she knew that doing it while sitting quietly in a cell was one thing and doing it while in the midst of a dangerous escape was quite another. And even if she made it out of the building, it was brutally cold outside and the snow was as deep as it had been when the storm had ended near her home. She suspected she was very close to her home. That was why Ahnvil had ended up on her doorstep after escaping. It was quite possible this was the very same cell they had been keeping him in. It saddened her to think of him. She knew what his reaction would be once they realized she was missing. He would blame himself for it. And while he was responsible for the anger that had driven her from the house, she was the idiot that had left the protection of the compound. It had been a stupid, thoughtless thing to do. She had been made well aware of the danger that was lying in wait, and she had forgotten to be more cautious. Her. The queen of caution.

But she knew he would blame himself. He was so incredibly hard on himself and took on so much responsibility.
And she had been just as hard on him. He couldn’t help the instincts that had been forced upon him. His territoriality was something he clearly struggled with and she should try to understand that. She should try to be more patient. Especially where Kamen was concerned. She was being wholly insensitive to his feelings to turn to Kamen for help right in front of his face like that. It had to sting very badly for him. But the truth was Kamen was responsible for her being able to do the things she now could do. These things that might now save her life. If she ever got out of this mess, maybe that fact would help to soften his hatred of Kamen a little.

She hoped, but seriously doubted. Her Gargoyle was not known for his ability to forgive. Not in her estimation anyway.

She missed him, she realized with no little surprise. And not just because of the astounding protection she knew he could afford her. She had done more protecting of him throughout their time together than he had of her. What she missed was the deep sound of his voice. The overwhelming presence of his body. She found she had already grown used to walking in the shadow of it, of feeling protected by it, of feeling wanted by him.

And yes, he did want her. The fiery physicality of what he wanted from her was outrageous. They had only made love a few times, but every time had been explosive and addictive. Even now she was craving the smell of him, the feel of him and the taste of him. She was craving what it felt like to have his hands and lips on her body.

Panahasi walked in on the heels of that thought and she flushed hotly. She moved back to her cot, huddling around the feelings she’d been feeling, protecting them from his acrid presence. It was obscene to have him there while she was thinking about how much she—

Cared
, she thought with haste, covering over the unthinkable word that wanted to pop up in its place. She
didn’t want to think about things that simply could not or would not be. Ahnvil was only interested in the physical. She was not going to be one of those foolish women who fell head over heels for an inaccessible man.

Not that it mattered right then
, she thought as she watched Panahasi go back to his work. She might be dead in just a few hours. What did it matter what she did and did not feel?

Oh hell
, she thought. She
did
feel. She felt a lot. She just had to envision his handsome face and his warm, vital amber eyes and she felt her entire body go soft with desire and emotion. No, it wasn’t just about sex. It was more. She felt for him. Felt his pain as he struggled with his harsh past and the responsibilities he had then and on into the future. She loved that he was such a powerful man of honor, that she knew he would rather die than dishonor himself. He would lay his life on the line to protect her and Jackson and everyone in that entire compound. All without prejudice. And that included Kamen. Because Jackson wanted him protected, Ahnvil would do so even though he hated his guts.

If that wasn’t honor than she didn’t know what was.

Ahnvil fell to his knees and vomited the instant they were out of Kamen’s streak.

“It’s like that the first few times,” Kamen said. He did not try and help the Gargoyle in any way, knowing any hand of friendship he held out would be immediately rebuffed.

Ahnvil pushed himself up to his feet, staggering a little as the world spun and then tried to right itself.

“Give it a minute,” Kamen advised.

“I doona have a minute,” he snapped. “Kat doesna have a minute. For all we know the sword is already at her neck.”

“We will find them when we find them. We will either
be on time or we will be too late. You need to be prepared for both instances.”

“I doona need your bloody words of wisdom! Just take tae the air and help me find this place!”

“Since I don’t know what it looks like, we will go together. All right?”

What Kamen was thinking was that there was no way he was going to let the Gargoyle go off on his own. The minute he found the location they were looking for he would try to go in with all barrels blazing, with no thought to his own safety. His protective instincts were just that strong. Kamen had made him that way. What he found interesting was how deeply Ahnvil had allowed himself to fixate on this little Djynn half-breed. There was much more to it than the need to protect all who were in the house and under Jackson’s care. He had not missed the undercurrent of sexual energy the Gargoyle was expending toward the Djynn. Gargoyles were sexual by nature, but this went beyond mere lust.

But far be it from him to analyze this overmuch. He was there to help. He had no goals, looked for no respect or forgiveness via the task at hand. He would simply do what he had the skills to do and would leave everything to lie where it would. He was not asking for nor was he seeking forgiveness.

“Verra well,” Ahnvil said after obviously trying on and then discarding about a half-dozen mental arguments. He extended his wings and with two powerful steps of thickly muscled stone thighs he launched himself into the air. With ease, Kamen levitated into his wake.

Together they began to circle out, using Kat’s house as their center point.

Katrina waited until Panahasi left the room for what she deemed the final time that night. Daylight was soon approaching and for the first time she realized that the internal clock that told her was as much due to her Nightwalker blood as it was due to her years of dealing with an allergy to the sun. She had thought she had developed one because of the other when in fact it had already been there all along.

If she was going to do this she needed to do it now. She needed to get out and then, hopefully, run to the same place Ahnvil had run to. Her home. Hopefully she could get there before the sun came out and started to cook her flesh into boils and bubbles. She had not yet learned how to turn to smoke to protect herself and didn’t have the first idea of how to begin to try.

Mr. Cockney came down the corridor with her tray of food, which held the bowl of tomato soup she had mentally wished for in order to exercise her skill. She waited until he was just about to leave and close the door.

“I wish you would unlock the cuffs,” she said, holding up her wrists. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“All right,” he said immediately. He pulled out a key and unlocked her cuffs. “It’s not like you can get one over on me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed with an innocent and winning smile. “And when you go, I wish you’d leave the door unlocked. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

“Well, as long as you promise,” he said, closing the door shut and failing to lock it. She had realized it was easier to get someone to do something she wished for if she gave them a reason, a logical reason, for doing it.

She had a moment when she thought he would come to his senses … and then a moment when she wanted to wish him into locking himself up and dropping his drawers down around his ankles so his humiliation would be complete, but it would be hard to logic things like that out. When it came right down to it, it simply was not worth the risk.

She moved carefully out of the cell, wincing when the metal creaked. She had to get out of there as soon as possible. What if Cockney came to his senses and came back to lock her up? Wishes, she knew, could be mercurial things at best. Ahnvil had warned her to never make a wish to a Djynn, but
she
was a Djynn so did that count? And the more important question was, was this possibly because of the bracelet or was this something innate within her that she was only now learning to use?

No time. She had no time to worry about this. She had to run. Had to flee. And all the while she had to hold on to the bridge to the two power sources on her body in case she needed them.

She hurried into the corridor outside, inching and creeping down it several feet at a time. She tried to remember that as far as anyone knew she looked just like any other Bodywalker out there, but most of the ones here had been wearing saffron-colored tunics and robes, like some kind of demented Hare Krishna movement.

She made it all the way to the stairs before someone noticed her.

“Hey! What are you—?”

Panahasi. She came right around the corner and ran smack into Panahasi. It took him only one moment, a fraction of a second, for him to realize who she was and the significance to her being there, out in the open, unconfined.