Heart of the Gods (27 page)

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Authors: Valerie Douglas

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal

BOOK: Heart of the Gods
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Carelessly, Zimmer tossed the whip to one of his men. The leather was darkened with her blood, it glistened wetly in the flickering torchlight.

“All of you,” he said, to his guards. “Stay clear. Don’t get close to her, don’t touch her for any reason.”

Knowing she was still semi-conscious by the flutter of her eyelids, he bent down, leaned in close to her ear. “Soon you will be very, very hungry, won’t you? Nearly ravenous…”

Already Raissa could feel it tearing at her, fighting to be released.

Tears burned her eyes but she wouldn’t give in to them, or him. She strangled the hunger back, throttled it.

“Bind her hands behind her again. Let me know when she begins to stir, to awaken, to struggle. We’ll see how her companions like her come morning.”

Horror swept through her.

No.

Hunger raged inside her.

It hadn’t happened yet, she reminded herself. She still had her will. The weeks that had passed since she returned to the world had taught her some self-control. She could hold it.

She would hold it, if it came to that. She had to.

Laughing, Zimmer walked away, signaled to John and his lieutenant to follow him.

Zimmer knew he dared not leave John there or take the chance that the glamour he’d cast would weaken with either distance or time. He might still need the man or the knowledge he had.

It was astonishing how easily the man had been suborned but then Zimmer’s own capitulation had been almost too easy as well. The people of this time were astonishingly weak of will, easily turned.

The last strands of the rope around Ky’s wrists parted almost too suddenly, too easily. He shook his hands to get the circulation back as he pulled the ends free, watching the guards in case the movement caught their attention.

Tareq worked to free himself as Ryan waited his turn.

The guards nearest them watched Raissa, sprawled limply on the ground wearing only the remains of the thin t-shirt and not the captives behind them. Across the way, one of the other guards turned to say something to another, distracted, his eyes also turned away from those across from him.

However professional these men might be, this was soft duty to them. They expected no resistance from a bunch of academics, archaeologists.

That’s what they saw.

They were relaxed, hardly on guard at all.

None of them were aware of Ky’s training. His skills.

Ky smiled, bitterly, wolfishly.

He’d never wanted to use those skills in this way again, but he would for Raissa, for Tareq, his old friend, for Ryan and Komi, even for John.

He couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t risk one of the guards seeing Raissa’s swords, seeing them free themselves.

The brief distraction across the way was all he needed.

In an instant Ky rose softly and silently behind the guard closest to the shadows, his eyes on the others as he caught the man around the throat in a sleeper hold to pull his quarry quickly and silently back into the darkness. With a quick snap of his hands, the man dropped, his neck broken.

Quickly and silently, Ky searched the dead man in the shielding darkness, slinging the man’s holster over his shoulder, borrowing his belt and the knife in the sheath with it. Guns were noisy, knives, used right, were silent.

Ky faded into darkness, silence, his hands and the knife weapons enough.

Slipping behind the tents, he caught one of the guards as the man went to relieve himself. It would be a moment or two before the others realized he wouldn’t return. There wasn’t much time before they did, before they realized they were growing smaller in number. Ky could already see one of the guards looking around for the other man who had been guarding the prisoners. He was frowning, perhaps just realizing they were one short.

Ky caught Tareq’s eyes, glanced at the guard.

His old friend and mentor had also seen combat.

Tareq nodded, rose silently to his feet behind the searching guard.

A quick blow, another, sharp, to the throat, and the man fell. Tareq drew him quickly into the shadows and went in search of another quarry.

It would only take one outcry to ruin everything.

A thrown pebble drew the next guard’s attention and Ky silenced him as well.

Suddenly the light dawned as one of the remaining guards realized his companions hadn’t returned. He started to open his mouth. Ky threw the knife. The blade buried itself in the man’s throat, rendering him silent even Ky took down the man closest to him and Tareq tossed the remains of the rope still tied around his wrists over the last guard’s head, drawing it tight as the man bucked, fought, his feet kicking uselessly in the sand and slowly went still.

Ky gathered up some of the guns, slung them over his shoulders. They would need them.

Chapter Twenty Four

 

 

It all happened so quickly, so silently, Raissa barely had time to realize it was over. She shook her head to clear it, startled to find Ky there unlocking the manacles. Her hunger raged within her, the darkness of it hazed her vision as need cramped her stomach and the pain in her back became excruciating. All of it shredded her will, her control.

She fought it as desperately as she’d fought Kamenwati.

Ky was so close, though. The scent of him filled her nostrils and her stomach clenched against it. Her esurience grew. She felt her teeth extending again to press sharply against her lip.

She looked up at Ky. Her vision was hazed, reddish.

His jaw was tight, his dark eyes grim as he fought the manacles that bound her.

Her vision faded in and out. Hunger burned through her.

It pained her but she had to say it.

“Don’t,” she said, quietly, urgently, her voice unsteady, barely above a whisper and harsh even to her own ears. “Ky, stop. Don’t take them off. It would be better if you left me here. Zimmer was right.”

Ky looked at her, at her pale face, at the fear and despair in her blue eyes but he didn’t stop. The iron fell away.

Her wrists were chafed, bleeding from the harsh edges of the iron. The sight made him wince as fury rushed through him. His anger burned hotly.

Raissa could smell him, almost taste him. Ky. That scent filled her. Her hunger raged. She bit it back as lightheadedness and thirst nearly overwhelmed her fragile control.

Nearly frantically, she choked back the hunger his closeness sent raging through her as she said, desperately, “Ky, I don’t know if I can control it much longer.”

Ky looked into her eyes, into the nearly feral gleam of them. The lambent blue of them was nearly overwhelmed by a deep red glow. He could feel the heat of her body radiate against him. Unconsciously her body swayed lithely toward him, the movement sensual, so sexual he couldn’t help responding.

Catching her jaw tightly in his hands he shook her head a little and watched her lovely blue eyes focus on him.

“I love you. I’m not leaving you,” he said, sharply, fiercely, “So, control it.”

In shock and surprise, he saw her eyes widen as his words penetrated and then she blinked. Ky could almost see the focus come back into those brilliant blue eyes as hers met his. He watched as she struggled, fought for control, for clarity and sanity.

Her eyes fixed on his, locked on them, and cleared.

Startled, for a moment Raissa could only stare at him in disbelief before she raised a tremulous hand to touch his cheek, to trace the line of his beard unsteadily, a thousand emotions racing through her, not the least of them love.

She couldn’t fight him. Somehow, she would have to find a way to fight her thirst, her craving.

Ky touched her split and swollen lip as he slid an arm around her and another flicker of pain and anger went through him at the sight of it. His jaw tightened even as his thumb traced it. She shuddered as his arm contacted the slashes across her back. It was wet, sticky against his arm. It had to burn painfully but there was nothing he could do. They had to get out of there, and quickly.

His touch reached her, reached past the pain, the hunger… With an effort he could see, she forced herself to hold on.

“I’ve found the jeeps,” Tareq said, quietly. He had Raissa’s swords in his hand. “They appear untouched.”

It brought Ky back to himself. He nodded.

At least there was that. It appeared John hadn’t sabotaged them, but then it had been unlikely. Those Jeeps were John’s babies, he wouldn’t have tampered with them either willingly or under duress.

“With luck, the distance will keep the sound of them starting from alerting Zimmer and the others too soon,” Ky said, “but even so…We have to risk it. The darkness will help.”

He thanked God or the Gods for the thin silvery light of the moon.

Wasn’t Isis a moon Goddess?

“Take Komi and Ryan with you. If they do give chase, they’ll be more likely to go after Raissa and me than you. Use the fort as a reference, head directly west south west from this corner as we originally planned. We have to stay out of their hands, and find and reach the Tomb before they do.”

Tareq nodded.

“Ryan, get the trunk,” Ky called softly.

He’d leave nothing for Zimmer.

The grad student nodded, hurrying away.

For a moment Ky worried about the other archaeologists, but there was nothing he could do for them, except perhaps draw Zimmer off. It would have been different if he’d had either of his old teams with him, or a healthy Raissa and Tareq, then he might have attempted a rescue. As it was, he didn’t dare.

With a care for her back, Ky swept Raissa up in his arms and followed after Tareq.

The sting of his sweat against the open wounds made her gasp.

That sudden wash of weakness nearly undid her. For a terrible moment, Raissa fought the need, her teeth lengthening as hunger crawled through her. Her mouth was so close to his throat. She writhed in his arms. He was so close there was not only the scent of him to torment her but the warmth of his body and the steady throbbing of the pulse so close to her lips.

As maddening as it was she fought it with every cell of her being.

Ky set her carefully in the passenger seat. She laid her head back against it, curled into it to face him, but against the cushion to keep the stripes across her back from touching the old cracked leather.

To Ky’s relief the radios and GPSs were still in the Jeeps, along with the guns and their supplies. They wouldn’t starve and there was water, gas. Everything they needed.

“We need to find the first landmark.”

Tareq nodded. “Be careful, my friend.”

He had an inkling of what Ky planned, what he would do.

“You, too,” Ky said. “No headlights until we’re well clear of the fort if we can. For now, you lead. Whatever happens, keep going, we’ll catch up.”

It was Raissa Zimmer/Kamenwati wanted, her and Ky they would follow.

Nodding, Tareq climbed into the other landrover.

“Go on, Ryan,” Ky said, when the grad student hesitated.

With a nod, Ryan joined Komi in the other vehicle.

In the near distance they could hear the chugging of the generators from the other American camp. That sound would help mask the sounds of their departure.

Tareq glanced at Ky and both started their engines as simultaneously as possible, Tareq pulling out and ahead evenly, speeding up slowly at first, glancing behind him in the rear view mirror for signs of alarm or pursuit. Nothing. Yet. That would change swiftly. He floored it as much as he dared under the uncertain light of the stars, going for distance while it was still reasonably flat even as he tried in vain not to make any unnecessary or alarming noises.

Falling in behind him, Ky glanced back at the camps as he kept the Jeep as close as possible.

As far as he could tell, despite how sound carried in the desert, it appeared that no alarm had yet been raised. It wouldn’t last long, but maybe they’d bought themselves some time.

Maybe.

He looked at Raissa, saw the glimmer of her eyes beneath her lashes.

In the darkness, with only the thin silvery light of the moon for illumination, she looked alarmingly pale.

She shivered.

Chapter Twenty Five

 

 

Darkness closed around them and somehow that made it―the need, the hunger―far worse. It concentrated it. There was nothing else to focus on. Pain seared through her back, her shoulders, where the whip had cut into her skin and it touched the cracked leather of the seats. The musky, spicy scent of Ky drifted to her strongly and she could feel his warmth more intensely as she grew colder. Even as she fought it, she could feel her control slip… As she’d felt it once before…

“Ky,” she said, softly and laid her hand on his arm.

Her fingers were like ice, cold on his skin. They trembled.

Ky looked at her.

“You have to leave me. Zimmer was right, in a few hours… I don’t know how much longer I can control it, how long I can hold on. The GPS will help you find me again.”

She’d learned that much.

A few hours. Her heart quailed at the thought.

Need clawed at her.

If madness hadn’t driven her out into the desert, drawn by the warmth of the sand, or the scent of some creature, snake or lizard beneath it, anything to slake the thirst, the craving…

The hunger wore away at her will relentlessly.

“Come back in the morning with food. I’ll be fine. Just drop it off, leave it where I can find it. Drive away. Don’t let me come close until I’ve eaten something. Once I’ve eaten I’ll be all right.”

As long as it wasn’t him.

She looked at his face, into his dark eyes. Horror burned through her at just the idea…but she was too weak…

Already she could scent the taste of him on the air. She could feel the hunger grow as her weakness increased. Even though she’d stopped bleeding, her body kept trying to heal itself―the other half of Sekhmet’s gift―but she was too weak, too drained. Her body demanded sustenance, fuel to heal, fuel to live. And the demand was increasing.

Another wave of weakness washed over her, undermining her will.

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