Shadow Fall (17 page)

The scene reset again. She sat in a canvas pavilion overlooking the sea, a teacup before her. Balm sat beside her, their hands loosely tangled together.

Ana turned to Balm. “I made a mistake, didn’t I?” she asked, tears streaking down her face. “I shouldn’t bring this child into the world.”

“She’s your daughter, Ana,” Balm said, caressing the other woman’s face. “It doesn’t matter who her father is, she’s your daughter. Because of that, she has the best possible chance there is.”

Ana caressed her belly. Fatigue dragged at her. She’d spent hours every day since her arrival bathing her womb in Light magic, boosted by Balm and the innate power of Santa Costa. She’d given everything she could, everything to ensure that her daughter would have the best chance possible. “Nurture over nature. That’s what we have to hope for.”

“That’s what we believe.” Balm squeezed the other woman’s hand. “She will have your nature, Ana. Your sweet and loving heart will belong to her. She will be your daughter.”

“
Our
daughter,” Ana corrected. “I’ll give birth to her, but you will raise her.”

Panic swept across Balm’s features. “Ana, please, don’t talk like that. You’re going to make it through—”

“Promise me. Promise me that you’ll raise our daughter.”

Balm lifted their entwined hands, pressed her lips against their knuckles. “Of course I will.”

Ana sighed in relief. “Thank you. It gives me peace to know that Kira is in such good hands.”

Another shift. She screamed as pain ripped through her. Bearing down, pressure increasing, grunting with the effort, holding on to Serena’s hand with all her might, she pushed her daughter out into the Light, the world.

Balm lifted the baby, placed her onto Ana’s chest. Kira/Ana felt the weight of the baby on her heart, herself brand-new. “She’s beautiful,” she heard herself say.

“She’s perfect,” Balm said, tears in her eyes.

“Sweet little Kira,” her mother whispered. “Grow up brave and strong. Have faith in yourself, in your heart, and you’ll never go wrong.”

Soft blue light filled her vision. One last breath and she reached out, joined the Light.

“Kira. Kira, can you hear me?”

She slowly blinked the blue light away. Khefar leaned over her, his expression pinched with worry. “Am I on the floor?”

Her voice sounded strange, far away. Not surprising considering how many years of history she’d just witnessed.

“Yeah,” Khefar told her, his voice like gravel. “You had the pendant in your hand. All of a sudden you stiffened and fell flat to the floor. That was about ten minutes ago, and I’ve been trying to rouse you ever since.”

“I traveled a long way.” The locket slipped from her fingers and to the carpet. “And thus ends my role as Pandora, unleashing the evils of the harshest form of truth to wreak havoc upon my world.”

Khefar took her hands. “You’re ice cold. I think you’re in shock.”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “What I am is so far beyond shock. I don’t think there’s a word for what I am right now.”

Khefar helped her roll to a sitting position, then he grabbed an afghan from the back of the couch to wrap around her. “Was it bad?”

“Yeah.” She couldn’t say anything else. She willed her muscles to move. Slowly they complied, her knees up drawing against her chest. She propped her elbows atop her knees, then covered her face with her hands. “I need to talk to Bernie.”

“I am here now.” Khefar sat beside her, rubbing her back. “I don’t think you’re ready for another vision right now anyway.”

“You’re right.” Her muscles obeyed her only with effort. Her body, brain, and magic all felt sluggish. She’d crash hard once the horror faded enough.

“What did you see?”

She didn’t answer immediately. “Ana, my mother was a hybrid.”

“I know. You told me that in Cairo. It makes sense, considering your touch ability.”

She gave him a slow nod. “Balm was pretty tight with my mother. I mean, really tight, as in Sappho tight. I didn’t know that. Ana was a Shadowchaser too. I didn’t know that either. Have you ever come across Lightchasers?”

His hand paused. “I’m assuming that’s the opposite of a Shadowchaser, someone who goes after those aligned with the Light.”

“Or whatever Myshael, the Lady of Shadows, wants them to.” She pushed her hair back from her face, a feat made more difficult by her trembling hands. “My father was one apparently, and a Shadowling to boot. He attacked my mother. She killed him, but not before he impregnated her. With me.”

She huffed. The trembling rolled up her arms to the rest of her body. “That explains why I’ll never be able to get rid of the taint of Shadow. It’s half of my genetic makeup.”

“Hair of Isis,” Khefar breathed. “You saw this?”

“Seeing it would have been bad enough.” She drew the afghan closer about her, but the chill wouldn’t go away. “Remember, I have the perspective of the person whose object I touch. It was my mother’s locket.”

“Gods, Kira.” He dragged her into his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to know. Now I do.” She didn’t lean into him, didn’t take the comfort he offered. If she did, the numbness holding the anguish back would surely break, and she’d drown in the flood.

“I saw her.”

“Saw who? Your mother?”

“No. The Lady of Shadows, Myshael.”

“Gods, Kira, don’t say her name!” Khefar gripped her shoulders. “You’ll call her to you!”

“Too late for that. She was the first thing I saw when I touched the locket. Apparently Balm wore it all the time, even to her meetings with her sisters.”

“What do they do in these meetings?” Khefar demanded. “Scheme and plan against us poor mortals?”

“Something like that, if the Lady of Shadows is to be believed. She said that since Balm has had her time with me, it’s now her turn.”

“What does she want?”

“For me to join the family.” Kira huffed again. “I said no, that I wasn’t of Shadow and would never join her. All she did was laugh.”

A stirring of anger. Oh yeah, anger would work. “She laughed at me, because she knew what I would find out. She knew I’d discover that dear old Dad was a Shadowling who hunted Shadowchasers. Because she sent that Shadowling after my mother.”

Khefar’s fingers dug into her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Kira.”

“Me too. I should have found a way to kill that bitch when I had the chance.”

“Which one?”

“Good point.” She moved away from him. “The Sisters seem to have a habit of meddling in people’s lives. I wouldn’t put it past them to have deliberately schemed to create a hybrid of hybrids in order to see which one of them would win. I have no idea what Solis’s stake is in this, but I can guess what the ladies of Light and Shadow want. Well, I have no intention of being their pawn, no matter what game they’re playing.”

“That’s a relief.” He climbed to his feet.

She watched him, tension gathering in her shoulders. He stood between her and her Lightblade. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m never going to get rid of the Shadow magic inside me,” she reminded him, staring at his back. “It’s part of me now. Actually, it’s always been a part of me. My mother and Balm were hoping to keep it suppressed. I am of the Light and I am of Shadow. Your mission is to fight Shadow. So I’ll ask you again: what are you going to do?”

She could see the muscles of his shoulders bunch, his fingers curl, but he kept his back to her. “My mission has never been to fight Shadow. My mission is to do as my Lady Isis bids, and protect my charges. That hasn’t changed.”

“But your promise—”

He turned to face her. “You are still you, still the Kira Solomon you were when you went to bed, before you found this out. Are you telling me that the Hand of Truth is unable to bear the burden that the goddess saw fit to give her?”

“That wouldn’t make for an interesting story, now, would it?” She climbed to her feet. “The ‘Labors of Hercules’ wouldn’t be nearly as exciting or memorable if it were called the ‘Cakewalk of Hercules.’”

“Exactly.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Still haven’t heard from Balm. I guess that’s not a bad thing right now. She’ll contact me when she’s good and ready, and I need time to figure out what I’m going to say to her. Tomorrow’s the were-hyena challenge, and I need to do some groundwork before we head out there.”

“You need rest.”

She nodded. “I know. One good thing about going through a vision like that is I’m too tired to do anything other than sleep a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow’s soon enough to lose my mind.”

She let him lead her back upstairs, let him undress her. Let the warmth of his chest seep into her back as he pulled her close against him, spooning her protectively. Let herself revel in the contact, all the while knowing that moments like this were numbered.

L
ast time: are you sure about this?”

“You’ve asked me that every five minutes since we left the house,” Khefar said, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “And since I willingly dressed head to toe in leather like some BDSM version of Shaft, I think it’s safe to say that I’m sure about this.”

“You look badass,” Kira said, managing to keep a straight face with effort. Good to know his sense of humor was still intact. “The were-hyenas will appreciate that.”

“I
am
badass,” Khefar corrected her. “And if any of the were-hyenas want proof, I’ll be more than happy to provide it to them.”

The sun had already dropped below the horizon by the time they made their way to the challenge. The Westside were-hyena pack lived in a housing project on the southwest side of downtown Atlanta. It was the perfect cover for the matriarchal hybrids originally from Africa. Ghettos and projects were largely ignored by polite society. No one questioned the lack of adult males, since most assumed there wouldn’t be any around in the first place.

A chain-link fence marked the entrance to the complex’s main parking lot, near the red and orange brick edifice that housed mailboxes. A few cars took up the allotted spaces, no model close to new. A handful of girls in fur-lined hoodies leaned against one of the cars, bobbing their heads as a hip-hop beat vibrated the windows. Their laughter faded as Khefar backed the Charger into an available parking spot away from the other vehicles. Two of the girls ran off before Kira and Khefar could exit the car.

“They know we’re here,” he said, tension tightening his voice.

“Good, since we weren’t trying to be sneaky about it.” She made her way around to the trunk, Khefar joining her.

“How heavily armed do we want to be?” he asked, popping the trunk. “The bultungin appreciate a show of force.”

“I want you armed to the teeth.”

“Excellent.” He lifted a sawed-off shotgun from the compartment.

“Not that. We want them to recognize that we can hold our own, not think that we’re looking for trouble.”

“But you are looking for trouble.” He put the shotgun back.

“I’m looking to prevent trouble,” she clarified, strapping another dagger to her left thigh. Like Khefar, she’d donned all leather, soft enough to move in but thick enough that she wouldn’t need extra layers. It protected against the cold and most shape-shifting hybrids looking for a fight.

“We’ll see how that works. I wouldn’t put much past the bultungin.” He took out a wide black scabbard instead. He pulled the blade free, exposing the hooked shape of a khopesh. Instead of the classic bronze, the two-foot sickle-like sword had the sheen of finely crafted Toledo steel.

“Talk about working with what you know,” Kira said.

“Nothing wrong with being old-school.”

“True enough. Do you have those assault charms that Zoo gave you the other day?”

His grimace was clear in the streetlights. “I much prefer my blade and bullets. I’ll leave the magical to you.”

“True old-school to the end.” She grinned as she pulled off her gloves. “Close the trunk and I’ll secure the car.”

He did. She pressed her palms against the trunk. As she did with her bike, she willed her extrasense to spill out of her hands. Her magic swirled blue and yellow as it flowed across the glossy dark metal, a protective shield better than any alarm system. Anyone who tried to open the car would receive a very nasty physical and psychic shock.

She straightened, trying not to obsess over the encroaching amount of Shadow magic in her extrasense. On the bright side, it meant Light and Shadow both would trigger the car’s defense. “Done.”

“Good,” Khefar said, his voice thin. “We’ve got company.”

Dark shapes loped out of the shadows between the buildings, eyes glowing orange. Hyenas were as creepy as nature shows made them seem, chittering excitedly as they cautiously darted about. The lowing calls the were-hyenas made sounded close to the cries for reinforcements their natural cousins made before attacking a pride of lions to take their kill.

Kira squared her shoulders as she faced them, her power still coating her hands. “I am Kira Solomon, Shadowchaser,” she announced. “I received word that there is a leadership challenge tonight. We are here to observe.”

More eerie giggling as the clan feinted and darted. “They want to surround us,” Khefar murmured tightly.

“Standard operating procedure, no matter the species,” Kira reminded him. “Still, your car’s charged enough to stop a bull elephant in its tracks. We can hold our own if we have to. But it won’t come to that.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” She pushed back Logic’s Veil a hair more, allowing more of her power to pool into her fingertips. Wind blew at her face and hair, a current of magic that would give any sensitive reason to pause. Since their return to Atlanta, she’d been practicing throwing bolts of power. The power drain that resulted from the raw burst of magic meant that she’d use it only in an emergency or on a group attack, which in her world amounted to the same thing.

An older woman stepped from the shadows, a brightly colored caftan covering her black turtleneck and denims. She wore her hair in a short natural style, a wide multicolored band wrapped around her hair, pushing it back from her forehead. Around her neck hung a double-row necklace of cowrie shells from which dangled a smooth bolt of dark wood that resembled a female hyena’s false penis. Kira knew from her research that only ranking females were allowed to wear the symbol.