Authors: Jean Murray
If it was one thing she understood was psychology. She had taken several courses over the years, as part of her academic studies. The key to defusing a situation with someone who was mentally decompensated was to minimize their sense of being threatened. She already assumed a submissive posture, lying almost naked on the floor. The last thing she wanted to do is challenge or show force.
Heck no.
If she wanted to get out of this, she had to play it smart and calm.
She moved slowly to the point it was painful, considering all she wanted to do is run for the door. He would grab her before she even took one step in her sprint to freedom. Even then, there would be no place to go with the gate locked. She needed to buy her time until someone came to her rescue. Again.
Keeping her eyes to the floor, she pushed herself up onto her knees. Her nightgown had ridden up around her waist. Her attempt to keep herself covered wasn’t going to work out. Worse yet, it was cold and her nipples were standing out like small peaks against the thin fabric. She hated feeling vulnerable, but she was willing to sacrifice a little pride and modesty for getting out of this alive.
She had traction to move away from him, but she remained there frozen at odds with preserving her life and helping a god who had been tortured for five long miserable years. In all the long hours she had spent with him in this cell, she felt tied to the god. She had been feeding a minute part of her soul to him, nurturing him to health. Caring for him. And, for how crazy as it sounded, she couldn’t abandon him. Taking a resigned breath, she tore her gaze from the gate to her capturer. His eyes were closed at the moment, but the grimace on his face was unmistakable.
Severe pain.
Her heart bled for him in that moment, knowing how cruel Kepi had been. The scars on his body were inflicted by poisonous scorpions that had been placed in the sarcophagus with him. Thousands of shriveled scorpion carcasses had scattered across the floor when the sarcophagus toppled over. The venom would cause excruciating pain for any god, rendering him powerless and with no escape.
She shook her head at the atrocity of his confinement. He would heal. He was a god after all, but it was the injury to his soul and spirit, that he may never recover. She suppressed the instinct to reach out to him. One wrong move would get her killed, but every cell in her body screamed out to comfort and care for him.
Against her better judgment she inched forward, her hand outstretched. Her fingertips gently touched his forehead and followed his hairline to his jaw, the same way her father use to calm her. “Shh… It’s going to be okay.”
His eyelids fluttered at the contact, but he remained still. Repeating the motion, she watched his features for any indication he would attack. His face remained bunched in a ball of agony. He appeared to be in some self-induced trance, possibly his only means to escape the misery, otherwise he would never allow her to touch him.
Ignoring the pain of her knees against the stone, she continued to trace the same pattern over and over, daring to make more surface contact with each pass. Within minutes she was using both hands to trace his forehead to the tip of jaw on both sides. With each caress, his tension faded and loosened the tight lines of his face. She wasn’t sure how long she performed the little move, but in the end his arms hung flaccid at his sides, and his face had softened.
With the quiver of her biceps, Kendra took a deep breath and slowly lowered her hands. Before she could exhale, he grabbed her wrists.
Confronted by his hard silver pupils, she blurted out, “I’m sorry. I wanted to help. Sorry. Sorry.” Unable to suppress the squeal that escaped her throat, she panicked and yanked her arms wildly to free her wrists. Whatever control she had over her fear, unraveled in an instance.
“Let me go!” Her knees scraped against the rough hard stone in her attempts to free herself. “No!”
Somewhere in her struggles he let her go. In her panic she tripped over books and scattered them across the floor. On her hands and knees she scurried to the farthest wall and curled up in a ball with her nightgown pulled over her knees. With her hands pressed to her face, she sobbed.
A low moan reverberated through the air. Bakari fisted his hands into his hair and rocked on his heels like a tightly coiled spring. All the work she had done—gone because of her fit of terror. Angry with herself, she took several deep breaths to stop the flow of tears.
“Kendra!”
The loud bark of alarm jerked her gaze to the iron door. Bomani and at least ten dark warriors filled the open entryway. The Commander’s gaze swung around the room assessing the carnage. Three dead. The sarcophagus toppled. And blood everywhere. Her heart caught in her throat. “Bomani. No!”
To prevent their entry into the cell, Kendra lurched forward grabbing the iron bars and pushed as hard as she could to prevent any more deaths. The growl of an enraged animal emanated behind her. Bomani’s horrified expression told her that Bakari was coming and she was stuck in the middle. Despite this she needed them to back off, or things were going to get ugly. “Get back.”
Stunned, Bomani released the door and it clicked shut. Bakari slammed into the iron gates with such force Kendra was surprised it didn’t crumple. She dashed to the right to avoid being crushed or injured in the folly of violence he wreaked upon it.
Bomani had taken out a strange looking device, but it didn’t take long for Kendra to figure it out. The arc of electricity hit Bakari in the chest. The Death god staggered and bellowed in outrage. Quickly recovering, he charged the bars again and was hit with a stronger current that lit up the room with a bright blue glow.
She gasped seeing the burn marks on his chest. He had already suffered enough and now he was being electrocuted by his own family. “Stop you’re hurting him.”
“Gods damn it, Kendra stay out of the way.”
“No, stop it. He doesn’t deserve this.”
As Kendra reached for Bakari, the atmospheric pressure around the cell increased significantly, like a heavy weight of water against her chest. An invisible force launched Bakari into the far wall of the cell. He struggled against the bond but to no avail. She ran to help him, but a strong muscled arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground.
“Get her out of here.”
At Asar’s command Bomani whisked her out of the cell and up the steps, but not before Bakari let out a shriek that settled ice in her veins and in her soul.
Bakari’s vision cascaded to shades of crimson. The beast that always lay dormant in Underworld gods came raging to the surface. He struggled against his capturer’s hold. The time since his release was a blur. Barely sane, the unbearable hunger tore away at his black heart. His only respite from the torture was his phantom siren. A beautiful petite female that granted him relief from his pain, if only for a moment.
Her sweet blood haunted him, along with energy, so soft and fulfilling, it gave him fleeting lucidity and control. He remembered the fine quiver of her bottom lip and rapid cascade of her breath against his skin. Beautiful yellow flecks dotted her large brown eyes. Despite all the horror he saw in them, she bravely approached him. Touched him. Took his pain away.
Now she was gone. Taken from him. “I will kill all of you,” he snarled.
The large powerful god who held him barked orders out to the other demons. “Shut that gods damn door.” He motioned to another demon dressed in a long black robe.
The god approached but kept outside Bakari’s ability to kill. There were only a few individuals that knew the limitations of his powers.
“Release me.”
“You must listen to me. I know you are confused. You have been under for a very long time.”
“Five years!” He hated the weakness that plagued his voice and his body. His muscles had withered to half their original size, otherwise he would have been able to break this hold.
“Did Kendra tell you that?” The robed demon asked.
Bakari hung his head, shaking it to clear the foggy memories. What was his savior’s name? She had told him, didn’t she? “Five years. She said five years. Five years.”
“Do you remember anything of your confinement?”
“Five years.” Those words in the small musical voice rang over and over in his head. Did he remember anything? He remembered too much. Things he wanted to permanent erase from his mind. Things done to him against his will. It was the other indiscretions that he forced to that dark side of his mind, locked behind an internal cage. “No.”
“Do you know who we are?”
He sneered. “Come a little closer, maybe then it will all make sense.”
The large god frowned. “We both know I cannot do that.”
Bakari hissed and gnashed his teeth together. It would take only a thought to rip this god’s life from his soul. If he had his daggers, he could extinguish the fine ember of light that burned in the god’s chest. Permanently. He craved it like a starved animal, salivating with unrepressed savagery. “Release me.”
Stress painted the formidable god’s face. “I’m sorry, son. I cannot do that.”
“What in the name of Isis went on here?” Asar asked, raking an agitated hand through his hair. Three of his best guardians lay dead on the floor.
Inpu motioned to the guards to lift the sarcophagus up onto its pillars. Stooping, the priest picked up a gold goblet. His finger dipped into the black liquid. “Animal blood. Looks as if it was knocked over onto the floor. She could not have used this during the spell, there is too much of it wasted.”
“Then how did she do it?”
After righting the large wooden lid, the priest laid his hand on the center of the hieroglyphics. He brought his hand to his mouth with a small red drop on the tip of his finger. He closed his mouth around it. Inpu recited a small prayer.
“Isis! Please don’t tell me she used her own.” Asar grabbed the back of his neck and turned his gaze to Bakari. “Gods be damned. Why the hell did she not wait?”
“Kendra? I think you already know the answer to your question.” Inpu stood up and joined Asar to stare at their caged animal. “You know what this means?”
“I’m going to have to tell Lilly.”
His son bucked against Asar’s tight restraints. “Give her back to me. She is
mine
!”
Asar moved with the weight of a thousand elephants out of the dungeon and through the palace corridors. He could not tell which was worse, the anguish of seeing his son in such a state of insanity or the fact that it was his fault. His regrets were too numerous to count and his only son had suffered for it dearly. He was certain this was his punishment for so many misdeeds, mainly his involvement with Kepi. It was his misjudgment and lust that had lit the fuse to this blight against his family and the Mother Goddess.
Bakari would have never been exposed to Kepi had Asar not given her a second chance. His cock was doing the thinking for him at the time. If only he had heeded Nebt’s warning in the beginning, but he was too self-centered to see beyond Kepi’s seduction which she had turned against his son.
Asar did not blame Bakari for falling into her trap. He had. It had been Kepi’s objective all along to kidnap his son and use him against the Pantheon. She would have succeeded if it was not for Lilly entering his life and that he would never regret.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Kendra’s quarters stood before him. He needed to break the news to Lilly. She knew Kendra best.
Gods help him.
He was the one who asked Kendra to help break the spell with the knowledge his son was siphoning living energy off her soul. Lilly’s life force had been enough for his own beast to be sated; he assumed Kendra would have the same calming qualities on Bakari.
He rapped on the door.
Bomani greeted him. Nodding he opened the door wider. “Lord.”
His wife’s concerned gaze lifted to meet his. Lifting the side of his mouth in a half-smile, he kept the dread from showing on his face. He looked past Lilly to the small woman curled on her side. Her face was as pale as the white bed sheets. “How are you fairing, Kendra.”