Twilight Prophecy (22 page)

James felt his brows arch and tried not to show his amusement. “Maybe some sort of a…toga?”

“I know not…toe-gah.”

Sighing, James pulled the bedsheet from the table and held it up. “Better?” He watched the other man’s face, saw it relax in relief.

“Better,” Utanapishtim said, pronouncing the
t
’s harder than James had as he took the sheet. He inspected the fabric, then nodded with approval.

Good, James thought. He didn’t yet know the extent of this being’s powers. It wouldn’t do to piss him off. Besides, he needed Utanapishtim’s help. And yet he kept finding feelings of hostility toward the old one bubbling up from some unseen well in his gut. Why?

Who was he kidding? He knew why. He’d seen the way Utanapishtim had looked at Lucy. Pure male appreciation, and probably no small amount of curiosity about her, her bearing, her clothing, her ponytail. Probably best to deal with it now, before Utanapishtim got any ideas about her.

“Utanapishtim,” James said.

The ancient one, who was expertly wrapping the sheet around himself, creating a one-shouldered toga without even a knot or a pin, stopped and looked at James.

“I raised you from ash.” As James said the words, he picked up half of the broken statue, running his fingertips inside to show the old one the ashen residue there.

“Mmm. Woman—seer woman—find me. Burn me. To…protect me, she sayed. But I…feel it. I feel the fire.” He closed his eyes as a full body shudder racked him.

Not only buried alive, but burned alive first. “I am sorry,” James said.

Utanapishtim grunted, nodding and continuing to clothe himself.

“Nonetheless,” James went on, “know this, Utanapishtim. I was the one who found you. I used my power to restore you to life, to give you back your body.”

“You…power?” Utanapishtim asked, his attention now caught.

“Yes. My power.” James looked at his hands. “I can…heal the sick, raise the dead, with my hands.”

Utanapishtim’s eyes narrowed. “You…give me you power.”

“No. I cannot.”

“I take you power!” The huge man surged forward, reaching for James.

James dodged him and held up his hand like a weapon. “I freed you from that statue that was your prison. I can put you right back in there.”

Utanapishtim stopped in his tracks and looked at James, his eyes widening. Then, slowly, he nodded his surrender. “What…want you…from me? Why you find me? Raise me?”

“Many things, Utanapishtim. Many things. But one thing first. That woman…” James pointed in the direction Lucy had taken. “She is my woman.”

Utanapishtim held his gaze, his own slowly easing from one of dark fury to something that might have been…teasing? “The right of the king—”

“You’re not a king anymore, Utanapishtim. You’re a man who needs me. You need me to help you find your way in this world. It is nothing like the world you knew. And I will help you—if
you
will help
me
.” James lifted a hand, forefinger pointing in a way that every male of every age would understand, then picked up half the broken artifact in his other hand. “But if you touch my woman, I’ll put you right back inside this statue forever,” he said.

Utanapishtim narrowed his eyes and leaned slightly down, bringing him nose to nose with James. “You…brave. You challenge me—as Enkidu did Gilgamesh.

But you…weak. Cannot fight me…now.”

James looked up, frowning. How did Utanapishtim know? Could he sense the weakness he himself was trying so hard not to reveal? He added extra-sensory perception to his mental list of the old one’s powers.

“You raise me,” Utanapishtim said with a slow nod.

“If I…desire…you woman, I will…allow you…fight me for…own her.” He bowed as if he had bestowed a great gift.

“Utanapishtim, we don’t own women anymore.

They are equal to men in this time. They are free to come and go as they please, to choose the man they wish to be with.”

The ancient one’s face split into a smile. “You…

James of the Vahmpeers. You make me to laugh.”

“It’s not a joke.”

Utanapishtim chuckled aloud, slamming James on the back with one hand. “Woman. Free to choose.

Ahahaha! Why she choose any man, then?” He laughed some more, then caught his breath, swiping a tear from the corner of one eye. “Keep you woman, James of the Vahmpeers. You are freed me prison and made me to laugh. You are worthy to you Loo-see.”

It was going to be a long, slow, uphill battle, teaching this guy, James thought miserably. Oh, not the language. He was speeding along on that. But the twenty-first century? No way. This once-great priest king was in for one hell of a culture shock.

“Now, show me…this.” Utanapishtim turned toward the television set, eyeing it.

“I don’t think you’re ready just yet, my friend. But let me try to explain.”

Utanapishtim held up a hand for silence, moving toward the flat screen and placing his palms on it.

As he did, he closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them again, he whispered, “Ahhhh.

Is magic.” He walked directly to the remote control on the wall, picked it up and eyed it for a moment, and then he aimed it at the TV set and turned it on.

James stood there gaping. “How…how did you—?”

“Like you…I am…power. I…take inside by…” He pressed his palms together. “By touching?”

“Mmm. Touching. Yes. I touching and I…I…what word? What word?” He spotted a book on a stand and went to it. He held the book, which was about yachting, between his palms and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, mere seconds later, he nodded once. “Now all this,” he said, opening the book and fanning the pages, staring at them in wonder as he did. “All this.” He snapped the book closed again. “In here,” he said, tapping his head with the other hand.

“Just like that?”

“I…take.”

“You absorb knowledge by touching. Like a sponge absorbs water.”

“Ahh. Yes. I touch. I take. Absorb. Good word. Knowledge, yes. Words. Power.”

“Power?” That was amazing, James thought, what he’d just demonstrated. But what did he mean by that last part? He could absorb power by touching? What kind of power did he mean, or was he even using the word correctly? And what other abilities might he possess? “Do you have any other…powers, Utanapishtim?” James asked.

Utanapishtim looked away. “I hunger. And I…want up there.” He pointed toward the ceiling. “Out. Open.”

Nodding, James decided he’d best tackle one topic at a time. Utanapishtim wasn’t going to tell him any more than he wanted to anyway. It was clear the man wasn’t going to have any trouble learning—not if he could absorb knowledge by touch. God, that was amazing.

At least they’d settled the issue of a hands-off policy where Lucy was concerned.

He understood the man’s desire to be outside, beneath the stars, after five thousand years in captivity, so he led his newly resurrected guest back to the upper deck, where they sat in chairs, but only after Utanapishtim spent a few minutes studying his. They stared out at the waves rippling beneath the starry sky, smelling the aroma of sizzling beef wafting up from the galley, and James said, “I wish to tell you why I raised you, Utanapishtim.”

Utanapishtim gave a regal nod.

“There is a prophecy—a story written from very long ago—that says my people will be destroyed. That they will be…no more.”

“Did vahmpeer anger the Anunaki?” Utanapishtim asked.

“No. It is an enemy who will destroy them. Not the gods. The prophecy says that only you, Utanapishtim, can save us. That is why I brought you back.”

Utanapishtim considered his words for a long moment, and then he spoke at last. “It is for the gods to decide.”

“But they are your people, too,” James said.

“I know not…vahmpeer. I know not…they worthy. The Anunaki know.”

“It is written that—only you can save us, Utanapishtim.”

The ancient one shook his head. “I…defy gods. I…suffer. No. I no anger Anunaki again.” And in that moment he looked more like a frightened, battered, abused child than a mighty immortal king and father of the undead.

Lucy arrived with a large tray bearing three plates of food. Steaks, potatoes, green peas. There were napkins, silverware, ice-filled glasses and a pitcher of water. She set the tray on the nearest table, and before she could move to hand Utanapishtim a plate, he had snatched the steak right off one, then shifted it lightly and quickly from one hand to the other, in deference to its heat.

Lucy handed a plate to James, then took her own. Sinking into a nearby chair, she began to eat, using her fork and steak knife, all the while watching the king use his fingers.

Utanapishtim tore off a bite of the steak, chewing, swallowing, nodding. “Good,” he growled, and devoured more. He finished every bite, gulped down his water, belched loudly, then sat back in his seat. “Good woman,” he said at length, speaking not to her but to James, and adding. “You chosen well.” Then, looking at Lucy, he said, “I given you for James of the Vahmpeers,” he told her. “Serve him well, woman.”

Lucy choked on her steak, and James jumped up and slammed her on the back, twice, until a piece of meat came flying out of her mouth.

She stared at Utanapishtim, wide-eyed. Then she looked at James, who shrugged and said, “I tried to explain things to him. He thought I was joking.”

She lowered her head, smiling to herself.

That was not the reaction he had expected, James thought as he watched the reactions cross her face, and then he forgot to think anything. God, she was beautiful. Okay, okay, he was getting off track. He dragged his attention back to the conversation. “You’re not indignant?” he asked her.

“Why would I be? He’s only a reflection of the society in which he lived. No, I was just thinking how interesting it’s going to be when he meets Rhiannon.”

James winced at the thought, which instigated another. “Not to mention my sister. I hope to God she doesn’t blow him up.”

“I know not ‘blow him up,’” Utanapishtim said. “But I know ‘sister,’ James of the Vahmpeers. She is like you, yes?”

“Brigit is…nothing like me.”

B
y the time he finished his third plate of food, Lucy was relieved to see Utanapishtim finally beginning to slow down. Maybe his stomach was nearing maximum capacity. She had cooked almost everything in the galley and was honestly running out of options. They were only about an hour from the island, and the sun was rising far away on the eastern horizon, a fiery red-orange ball just beginning to emerge as if from the watery depths.

Utanapishtim set his food aside as he caught sight of the sun. His eyes took on a distant, reverent look, and he rose from his chair and moved to the rail. Facing the rising sun, he opened his arms wide and began to speak in an ancient Sumerian dialect. His tone was different from when he spoke to either of them. It was softer, submissive, maybe even fearful. Brushstrokes of blazing yellow and orange painted his face in light. Tears dampened his velvet black lashes as he stared into the sunrise.

“Utu agrunta è-ani, igisha ganeshè…”

“What’s he saying?” James asked, leaning closer to Lucy and speaking very softly.

“This is amazing,” she whispered. “Hearing it spoken—God, I never imagined… This is beyond belief.”

“Yes, I know, but what is he saying?”

Lucy strained to understand the words, seeing them phonetically in her mind, trying to recall translations.

“It’s hard, I’m used to translating from looking at the text, not hearing it aloud.”

“Igi sha gane shè hé-em shi bar re…”

“It’s a prayer—to the sun god, Utu,” she whispered.

“May the sun god, rising from the watery deep…um…open his beautiful eye upon me. When the king raises his head…to heaven, may all praise him duly when he lifts his eyes…and his glance flashes…like lightning.”

Utanapishtim lowered his hands, folded his arms across his chest, forming an X over his heart, a fist on each shoulder, and he bowed his head. Then he stood in silence for a moment.

“We have to be careful with him, James,” Lucy whispered. “He still sees himself as a king, the chosen one of the gods. And we have no idea what powers he has.”

“I know a few.”

She shot James a look, her eyes wide. “You do?”

“Lucy, it’s amazing. He can absorb knowledge, everything contained in a book—or even a device—just by laying his hands on it.”

“What do you mean, even a device?” she asked.

“He put his hands on the TV for five seconds, and then he was using the remote and channel surfing.

And I’ve been watching him touch things. He’s been through every book in the library. He’s touched the engines of this boat.”

“My God, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah, and it’s not all. He keeps trying to touch me, Lucy, but I’ve been dodging him.”

“Why?”

“He said he could absorb words, information, knowledge…and…power.”

She frowned, seeing the worry in James’s eyes.

“You realize his English is—”

“Amazing, and getting better by the minute,” James said. “Not perfect, though, so I’m guessing it’s the ideas, information, rather than grammar and syntax, he absorbs from the books. But before that, when I told him I’d used my healing power to raise him, he asked me to give my power to him, and when I said I couldn’t, he said he would take it and he came at me.”

She frowned hard, shooting another look at Utanapishtim. “How did you avoid him?”

“Threatened to put him right back in that damned statue. I was bluffing, but apparently I’ve got a good poker face.”

“Hell.” She thinned her lips. “He could be dangerous.”

“I have no doubt he is,” James said. “We’ve just got to get him on our side—and find out what other powers he has.”

“And what his vulnerabilities are, as well,” Lucy added. “The sun clearly isn’t one of them.” She found it very odd that she could so easily take her eyes from a man who was a walking, talking archaeological find and yet get so easily trapped in James’s deep blue eyes. She was lost there then, though he was unaware of it.

“If anything, he seems to be drawing strength from it,” he said, watching Utanapishtim and in the process giving her time to adjust her focus before he caught her staring at him in what probably looked like abject adoration.

She shook it off. “We need to get him to the island. He’ll have time to get his bearings today, before everyone rises. And by nightfall maybe we’ll have softened him up about whether to help us or not. And then, once he meets them, they’ll win him over. Just like they did me.”

“I agree.”

She was staring at him again. Dammit.

He must have sensed her gaze, because he met it faster than she could look away, and his lips pulled into a tender smile. “We really did it, didn’t we?”

“We?
You
did it, James. I was barely any help at all.”

He shook his head slowly, pressing a palm to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you. If I manage to save my people, Lucy, it will be because you helped me. I wouldn’t even have known where to find Utanapishtim’s remains without your help. I can’t begin to figure out a way to thank you.”

She felt her blood rushing to her face and had to lower her eyes. But her smile would not be contained.

“We’re not finished yet, James. But I promise, when all this is over, I will come up with a way for you to repay me.”

“It won’t be enough.”

She raised her head again and met his eyes as he went on.

“Whatever you ask for, it won’t be enough,” he said, and his eyes were darkening, sliding over her face and lingering on her lips. He bent closer, his lips brushing hers, and she swayed against his body.

Utanapishtim shouted as if in pain.

They pulled apart, startled. The old one was holding his head between his hands, his eyes closed tightly.

“By the teeth of Enki, what is that?”

They rushed to his side. “Tell me what’s happening to you, Utanapishtim,” James said, his tone respectful but strong.

“Pain. Cries. Shouts. Voices, many voices. Entire worlds shout my ears all together. It…aiee, it loud!”

“We’re nearer the mainland than we’ve been so far,” Lucy said. They were moving alongside a peninsula jutting out from the mainland, and the island was just beyond.

“They die! They burning! I feel they pain!” Utanapishtim shouted.

“It’s the vampires!” James shouted. “The ones being burned in their homes. They’re his offspring, and he’s connected mentally.”

Utanapishtim had fallen to his knees by then, and James fell beside him, put his hands on the man’s shoulders—in spite of the risk, Lucy thought in awe—and closed his eyes. “Focus on me, Utanapishtim. Maybe I can help you.”

As Utanapishtim opened his eyes and met James’s steady gaze, Lucy saw James’s expression change from worry and concern to extreme pain. Whatever Utanapishtim was feeling, James was feeling it, too.

James grimaced in pain, but, grating his teeth, he managed to whisper, “Hundreds of them are dying by fire. Some…burning alive. Others running from the buildings into the killing rays of the rising sun. And Brigit—”

“Brigit?” Lucy slid a hand over the nape of James’s neck. “Where is Brigit? What’s happening to her?”

But James only grunted in pain, and then his hands began to glow. He looked down at them, where they were pressed to Utanapishtim’s shoulders, and he seemed surprised. He moved to pull them away, but Utanapishtim closed his own hands over them, holding them there.

The glow brightened, and then it died as James broke free, stumbling away from the big man and falling to the deck.

“What just happened, James?” Lucy asked.

Breathless, he said, “I don’t know.”

The sun rose higher, Utanapishtim’s face easing as his tense muscles uncoiled. He sank to the deck beside James, his back against the railing. Lucy crouched in front of him.

“It’s over,” James said. “It’s over. The voices have stopped.”

He addressed Utanapishtim. “Those were the voices of your offspring, Utanapishtim. Your people. My people. But now it’s day. They must sleep by day, and their voices go silent until nightfall. By then, I will have taught you how to block out the voices you do not wish to hear.”

Utanapishtim nodded, still holding his head as if it ached. “But they…burning.”

“Yes.”

“Explain,” Utanapishtim commanded.

Nodding, James said, “Humans, ordinary men, have learned of the existence of the vampires—your children, Utanapishtim—for the first time. Some want to wipe your people from existence, and so they wait for sunrise, when your children are helpless, and then they set fire to their homes. Even by day, a vampire will wake when being burned alive. He will feel the pain until he has burned to dust and nothing remains. It is…it is quick. But it is a horrible death, all the same.”

Utanapishtim lowered his head and held up a fore finger. “One voice calls for help, still.”

“Yes, I hear it, too. It’s my sister’s voice. It’s Brigit.”

Lucy went rigid. “Where is she, James?”

“That way,” he said, lifting an arm and pointing away from the sunrise, toward the hazy coastline visible in the distance. “The mainland.”

Lucy raced up the steps onto the bridge, right up to the helm, and hoped she’d picked up enough from watching James and Willem to pilot the yacht herself.

She pushed the throttle forward.

As the wind blew her hair behind her, she wondered who this woman was, coming to life inside her?

Because she was angry, whoever she was. Angry and ready to fight to protect Brigit, a woman she barely knew, and to avenge the innocent dead.

Something new and exciting was happening inside her. Something far removed from the cowering, frightened woman she had been before. The one who hid from trouble, avoided confrontation and protected herself above all else.

As she looked below and met James’s eyes as he stared up at her from the deck, she thought he had a lot to do with the changes going on inside her. He was a hero in his own time. The kind of man who would become a legend, the kind they would write stories and songs about in the future. He was the salvation of his kind, even though his kind were a kind she’d never known existed.

He was amazing. And he made her want to be amazing, too. More than that, he was looking at her as if he thought she already was. But she knew she wasn’t. She wanted to be, though. She wanted to be worthy of the look in his eyes. She didn’t think she ever had been, never in her life. And she wondered if she was kidding herself to think she could ever be worthy of standing beside a man like him.

And that was sad beyond measure. Because even though he was different, not quite human, she was pretty sure she was in love with him.

Lucy piloted the boat with James watching over her, correcting her errors, giving instructions. But mostly he and Utanapishtim focused on their sense of Brigit. They sat side by side, only acknowledging her when she needed to correct course, and then often only by lifting an arm, pointing a finger. Lucy was almost jealous of the connection James and Brigit seemed to share. She’d been feeling her own burgeoning bond with James, but this was different. This was a bond of blood and more. It went to the cellular level. They were family, those two. And their bond was far stronger than the link she shared with James because of the Belladonna Antigen.

She couldn’t read his thoughts. He could read hers, though, she reminded herself. Sure, he’d promised he wouldn’t pry, and she believed him. Still, she carefully avoided thinking too much about her feelings for him or, God forbid, the L word. Even though he was far too busy right now to notice either of those things floating around inside her mind.

As they neared shore, she looked for a suitable place to leave the yacht, and spotted a rocky outcropping that seemed isolated and a bit wild. A lighthouse stood there, but there was no town close at hand.

“I’m going to take us in there,” she said, pointing.

James finally blinked out of his stupor long enough to meet her eyes, and then to look where she was pointing.

“No, don’t. There’s a lighthouse, so there’ll be rocks too. We’re better off anchoring farther off shore. We can take the dinghy in.”

She nodded and reduced speed, finally cutting the engine altogether when he signaled that she’d gone far enough.

Then, James turned to Utanapishtim. “This is a different world than you have ever known, Utanapishtim. More importantly, it’s a world at war—anyone who appears different is under suspicion and liable to be attacked. And you’re dressed…in a way that makes you stand out. It would be better for you to stay here, to wait for us to return with Brigit.”

Utanapishtim met his eyes, looking stunned. “What king will…hide…safe, while his soldiers fight?”

“Actually, all of them, nowadays,” Lucy muttered. “But it wasn’t the case in your time, was it?”

“In my time, you, woman, would to be stayed behind. Safe.”

“I’ve spent most of my life staying safe,” she said. And then she shot a look James’s way. “No more.”

James stared at her, searching her face as if sensing a change.

And he ought to. She felt as if her entire worldview were in the midst of a great upheaval, the results of which were only beginning to settle in, changing who she was, what she was, right to the marrow.

“Make no mistake, Lucy, I will keep you safe.” He almost reached for her, but his hand paused in midair, and he glanced at Utanapishtim. “Would you at least consider changing your clothes? Dressing as I do?” The look on Utanapishtim’s face answered for him, and James gave up. “Let’s stick together, then. All three of us.”

Utanapishtim grunted his assent.

They beached the dinghy near the lighthouse, dragging it up onto the rocky shore, leaving it behind several large boulders that, James thought, would shield it from view from almost all directions. And then they trekked inland, keeping to the wooded areas. He felt his sister’s fiery energy as he hiked farther, and soon he sensed that she wasn’t far away, having made her way to the coast as best she could. She was hurting, and she was furious, and she was not alone. Those were the things he managed to pick up from her as he moved closer.