Forsaken: The World of Nightwalkers (18 page)

He realized then that she knew a great deal more about him than he did about her. His only sense of it was that she had somehow turned her back on her heritage, her people, in order to be with him. She had known that he’d had little tolerance when it came to Nightwalkers, so she had tried her best not to remind him of their differences…in spite of the fact that it stared him in the face every time he looked at her, every time he’d touched her black skin.

But you’ve never really touched her,
a voice inside his head whispered to him fiercely.
Never really made love to her.
And he couldn’t escape the thought that that was a damn shame. He didn’t want to think it, didn’t want to give birth to even an instant of curiosity over it, but he couldn’t help himself.

Leo shook himself from the inside out.
Focus,
he told himself.
Stay on point.

“Who are you?” he asked, watching her face very closely as he did so. “How is it that you ended up at the right place at the worst time and were able to do what you did to help Jackson…and me?”

She hesitated, taking just a moment too long to look up at him. But when she did he could tell she wasn’t going to lie to him. He could tell because he knew her. Thanks to that Djynn, he knew her.

“I’m a Night Angel,” she said simply. “Djynns need to grant wishes, and we need…we need to help others. I don’t know a better way of explaining it. It revitalizes us, the knowledge that we’ve done something to help someone. Ferrying a soul into a cusp is not totally selfless. We reap a great deal of pleasure from it. It satisfies us. I suppose all of that is where the ideas about angels come from, although they’re a teensy bit off on the coloring.” She held up her fingers with a pinch of air between them.

“That didn’t even come close to answering my question,” he said, pinning her down with a hard stare. “Who are
you
?”

“A messenger,” she said quietly. “Just like any other society we have a hierarchy. We have hierophants, messengers, and saints…and none of those things are what you might think they are. They’re not what humans think they are. Our hierophants are our oracles. A hierophant very close to me saw what was going to transpire on the lawns of that house in New Mexico and I, being a messenger, was sent to try and prevent it, or at the very least control the damage afterward. Some think it’s not our place…but others feel that we are bound by what we see and what we can do, that we have a moral duty to try and make things right.”

“A messenger. What you did…it packed quite a punch.”

She nodded. “Messengers are sent for a reason. We’re the strongest of our breed. We have the power to do certain things that not everyone has. I was chosen, and rightly so, because the hierophant knew my specific abilities would come into import in the situation. And he was right.”

“And what is your ability? What is it that I saw you do?”

“I am a reflector, you could say. I have no real ability, per se, except that I can reflect back to others whatever power it is they choose to use against me. So long as I am aware it’s being used against me, that is,” she said with a grim expression. “I wasn’t aware of what the Djynn was doing to me. I can be just as easily deceived as the next person. But I should have known better. I should have been on guard against…” She trailed off and he nodded.

“You couldn’t, could you? You had no way of knowing he could do that, so you couldn’t reflect it back against him.”

“I know now. He won’t be able to do it again. Not without my consent, in any event.”

“This makes you very powerful, doesn’t it? It makes you just as powerful as anything you come up against.”

“Yes…and no. There is a downside to what I can do. I can reflect things back, but it doesn’t stand to reason that I will have any control over the power that I’m wielding. I got lucky against Apep. I took him by surprise. I won’t have the luxury of that advantage again. He will see me for the threat I actually am next time we meet, and believe me when I tell you he won’t be very happy with me.”

Leo did believe her. He had a feeling that they had barely scratched the surface of what Apep could do. And when it finally came down to brass tacks, no matter how she tried to underplay it, she was going to be a crucial and dangerous weapon they could use against Apep.

“I feel like you still haven’t answered my question,” he said. “You’ve told me what you are and what you can do, you’ve told me your mission in this world…or your mission as you see it, but there’s something you’re avoiding telling me, and that’s who you are. It’s an important detail, or you wouldn’t go to so much effort to hide it.”

“I’m not hiding—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said sharply. “I’ll give Grey that much. He made it so I can tell if you’re lying to me. I know your tells, Faith. I know you can’t look me in the eye when you’re being deceptive. I know you run the pads of your thumbs over your nails when you’re anxious. Please I have a hard enough time trusting as it is and I’m making an effort here. Please don’t lie to me.”

She looked up at him, met his eyes, and realized he was right. Realized what a mistake it would be to break this fragile trust with him. He truly was making an effort. She could see that. And she could feel just how difficult it was for him. She suspected that, if not for what they had just been through together, he wouldn’t even be trying. He certainly had not been inclined to before Grey’s interference.

“I’m…well, you know how the Djynns have castes? How the Afreet and Marid are the upper crust of their society? I…my branch in the Night Angel tree is considered…” She cleared her throat. “Royalty.”

Leo blinked. Stared at her. Blinked again.

“Are you telling me you’re a frickin’
princess
?”

“In not so many words, yes.”

Apep could have used his power to transform himself into a Night Angel female, thereby making him more appealing to any candidates he might have found that were worthy of providing DNA toward his get.

But he did not. His power resources, at the moment, were quite puny. Or so it seemed to him. He was used to having much more power than this. But he was still newly reborn, still trying to force the Bodywalker, Odjit, to show him how to use the power she could provide for his use. She was being very uncooperative for some reason. He would eject her soul, along with the insignificant human soul that also housed itself in this body, if he could, but the truth was that he couldn’t. If he ejected the soul naturally born to this body, the human soul, then Odjit’s—which was deeply Blended with it—would flee along with it. And if he ejected Odjit, all of her potential and power would disappear with her. It did make for a terrible overcrowding inside one sack of flesh, but until he was at full strength and until he no longer needed Odjit and her power to help him get what he wanted, he would simply have to put up with it.

So he didn’t change form or alter his appearance. It would take far too much energy. But that did make things a bit trickier. It wasn’t as though he could blend into Night Angel society, considering he was like a fair-skinned beacon when in their midst. So it required some creative thinking on his part. He would have to hunt one of them down after he had left his herd.

Which was exactly what he’d been doing.

He’d followed more than one trail, studied more than one candidate. After all, not just any Night Angel would do. He wanted someone very powerful. Someone strong. But powerful and strong meant he was putting himself at risk. He didn’t want a repeat of what that Night Angel bitch had done to him. He was lucky he hadn’t lost one of his three souls in that little unexpected skirmish.

The other tricky thing was that it was very difficult to deceive a Night Angel. They could see words written across the light of a soul, words that told them whether or not to trust, whether or not they were seeing or hearing the truth.

Now that
was
something he had to expend precious energy on. He had no doubt that the light of all three of his souls would be easily seen, like three separate beacons, and that alone would warn off any potential suitors. Whereas two souls in a single body might be expected and announce that he was a Bodywalker, three would be something never seen before and therefore something to be avoided at all costs.

He couldn’t rid himself of any of those lights, but he could toy with an Angel’s perception of those lights. He didn’t have to do it for very long. Just long enough to reel a little Angel fish in.

And he was pretty certain he had found his candidate.

His name, he had learned, was Dax. A single name, a strong name. It suited him, Apep thought. He was of beastly proportions, wide, impressive shoulders, muscular arms thicker than most people’s thighs. He didn’t lumber about, but instead had a way of holding his bodily strength in a manner that was incongruously graceful. He was a dark-haired redhead, the color just as stunning a contrast against his black skin as the white hair of the bitch Angel had been on her. The Angels seemed to wear clothes or go without according to personal preference, as opposed to it being a social norm. Either way, they had no sense of shyness and wasted no time or energy on their physical appearances. It was hard for Apep to understand that. He was constantly catching his reflection in glossy surfaces and considering how he might make himself more attractive. It didn’t matter that he was male and his physical body was female. It only mattered that he was attractive to any and all sexes, to any and all creatures.

And he had indeed succeeded, he thought as he touched his hair not in self-consciousness, but in self-assuredness.

His attention returned to his target. Dax. The great and powerful Dax. Apep didn’t understand the hierarchy of Angel society, but it was not necessary that he did. All he had to do was watch as this Dax gave commands to others, called for and gained attention with a quick ease, and held himself in a way that left very little space for things like fear and self-questioning behaviors. He had no doubts about who he was and what his purpose was. That fact practically oozed out of his every pore. And the way those around him gave him deference and made so much effort to please him told Apep that his displeasure was something these people were avoiding at all costs. Apep couldn’t tell if it was because he reacted easily with wrath or not, only that others bent over backward to do as he commanded.

Yes, that would do very nicely. Physical superiority. Personal superiority. The question was whether or not his power was also superior to all others. It could be assumed so. Only those with great abilities could hold positions of power in a paranormal society. Achievement of the fittest. So Apep was willing to assume personal power was also to be extrapolated from his observations.

The only thing that mattered was whether or not he could control that power, whatever it was. He had to find a way of binding this Dax, of neutralizing any threat he may pose.

But of course there was nothing that could threaten
him,
Apep reminded himself. He was, of course, superior over all things. Most certainly over a Night Angel. That one bitch had merely been a fluke. He had been unprepared for her. He would not make that mistake twice.

Not that it could be called a
mistake,
he thought, merely an unfortunate happenstance.

Apep waited for the Night Angel to quiet, to find himself alone with his work. He slowly entered the room, or rather, materialized into it. He had been watching in a noncorporeal state for several hours now. With a thought he sealed off the room, made it soundproof, making it inescapable. He had barely taken a step when he heard…

“What can I do for you, Bodywalker?”

Dax’s question caught the god by surprise. He hadn’t thought to be detected so quickly. When Dax looked up at him and narrowed lime green eyes on him, he had to admit he was impressed. It was a reminder, however, not to let his guard down. At least Apep could be assured that his hidden soul was just that…hidden.

“It’s more a matter of what I can do for you,” Apep said, his body moving in flirtatious, feminine sexuality.

“I don’t need anything from you,” the big male assured him with controlled politeness, looking back at his work in a dismissive manner. Honestly, it put Apep out. Was he not beautiful? Was he not delicious to look at? How was it this lesser being did not recognize that?

“I can offer you a great opportunity,” Apep continued in spite of his momentary pique.

“Again,” Dax said without looking up, “I am not interested in anything you have to offer me.”

“Not even if it creates a great bond between our peoples?” Apep asked archly. He moved to the male’s desk, sliding onto it and taking a seat at one corner. He rested a beautifully manicured hand over the paperwork the Night Angel seemed so intent on and leaned in toward him, making sure he could smell the perfectly delectable scent of him. Any being of any race should be quite aroused with just one breath full of his scent.

Dax looked up at him, very hard eyes narrowing just the littlest bit. “Your people are embroiled in a bitter civil war,” Dax said. “I will not choose sides. I do not support one side over another. It is on you to resolve your differences, make yourselves a unified society. Then, perhaps, we can discuss diplomatic relationships. Until then, I will thank you to leave me to my work and ask you to please stop bothering me.”

Dax reached out and lifted Apep’s hand from over his work, pushing it aside as though he were discarding it.

Apep began to get angry, but, he thought, he would impress himself with his own self-control. He would not let this lesser creature disturb him. He would explain himself more clearly.

“I don’t think you understand,” he mused, making certain his voice was musical and light. Pretty. “I’ve decided to give you a gift. A very generous gift.”

Dax looked back up at him, one brow arching up as amusement seemed to pull at his lips.

“Is that so? Very well, give me your gift.”

Apep laughed.

“You first!”

“Me? I have no gift for you, and my patience with this game is wearing very thin, I warn you.”

“Agreed. This truly is most tedious.”

Apep reached out and grabbed the male by his thick throat, propelling them across the room together at lightning-fast speed, the impact crushing the air out of Dax’s body, not to mention snapping several of his ribs. Apep made sure to squeeze his hand tightly around Dax’s neck, preventing him from drawing a breath. Surprise laced the Night Angel’s expression. Shock. No doubt he was trying to figure out how something so delicate and beautiful could be so gloriously strong as well.

“Yes, yes,” Apep agreed with himself. “I know. I am to be thanked for deigning to choose you. No doubt you will express your gratitude accordingly.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Apep saw Dax clench his hand into a mighty fist but was too surprised to so much as duck when the fist came crashing into his face. Apep was surprised to find himself traveling back an entire yard under the strike. It only reaffirmed his excellent choice in a sire for his child.

“Okay, now that was just rude,” Apep noted, lurching forward and once again smashing the Angel against the wall. He was pleased when the male’s eyes once again went wide with surprise. Clearly he had not been expecting him to roll with that punch so easily. Then his eyes slid shut, as if he were going to give in, which of course he would have to, Apep thought. Continued resistance would only be a waste of time and would just make things so…unpleasant.

But instead of acquiescence, the male punched at Apep’s face again, only this time there was a commitment of strength and power that had not been there before and to his surprise Apep found himself hurtling across the room. He slammed into the opposing wall so hard he crashed through the drywall, his spine striking the framework beyond it with such force that the wall cracked in two other places.

Apep pushed out of the wall and back onto his feet. He looked down at his beautiful clothes and frowned at the dust that was soiling them. He reached up and felt chalky chunks of wall in his hair.

Now Apep was truly angry. “You’ve damaged me!” he cried out, taking a moment to try and shake the dust off himself, trying to return himself to perfection. “Damn,” he said with a sigh. “I’m quite ruined and will have to start all over again.”

And now that he was angry, he was through playing games. He launched himself at the rude male Night Angel, grabbing hold of him and driving them into a wall yet again. This time the whole room shook from the impact. Apep recaptured Dax’s throat beneath his hand, then slammed him down into the ground. Wrenching the ungrateful wretch around Apep propelled them into the ceiling as a single, grappling entity. Another twist and they barreled back to the ground so hard that the tiles in the floor cracked for a good ten feet in every direction.

“Now,” Apep hissed into the churlish rogue’s face. “You will father my child and you will be grateful for the privilege!”

“I’d rather die first,” the big Night Angel choked out before grabbing hold of Apep and throwing him back across the room. Apep went skidding through broken tile, the sharp edges doing irreparable damage to his pretty burgundy dress. “You can keep coming at me,” Dax growled as he drew for breath and tried to gain his feet. “But I will fight you with your own power, Bodywalker! My ability allows me to gather your strength whenever you expend it and then use it against you. You cannot win this!”

Apep got to his feet and chuckled.

“Oh, now it all makes sense! I was wondering how a puny little Nightwalker could cause me so much damage! Now I see it is because I am literally fighting myself!” Apep giggled. “Thank you for telling me how to defeat you. That has made things infinitely easier.”

Dax was snatched off his feet, as though being grabbed up by an invisible dog, and shaken violently before being spit out onto the ground again. Then that invisible hand flattened against him, crushing him down onto his back and into the floor. The pressure was so massive that the broken tiles beneath him were being ground to dust, and, one by one, his ribs were snapping in two…then three…then four pieces. From across the room a small decorative stool flew over him and slammed down onto him, the legs stabbing through the muscle and bone of his body until it erupted through and drilled into the ground beneath him.