Desert of the Damned (13 page)

He gave Dante a quick once-over, obviously sizing him up as a poor opponent.

“How are you?” Dante asked, trying not to have his question sound like a challenge.

The guy smiled. “Superb. Being Gwyllain’s eternal sex slave? Don’t you love it, bro?” he said with a hint of sarcasm. Tarik wasn’t a Drone and didn’t have to exchange lifeforce energy with the demoness, but after a thousand years was Tarik also getting tired of fucking Gwyllain?

The tension in Dante’s shoulders relaxed a bit. He told him his name. “You just finish with her?” Cocking his head toward the entrance of the temple.

“Oh yeah.” She’s good and primed for you. Probably in a tolerable mood now. I think I wore her out.”

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“I’m impressed.” Dante laughed. “That ain’t an easy feat, and I’ve been here a long while.”

“Come and run with me.” Tarik glanced out across the field. “I’m doing a workout.”

“I need to give my offering.”

Tarik laughed. “Let her rest. She’ll be out for a while. Your chi won’t be lost in a workout, man.”

Dante took off his shirt and tossed it on the steps. “Lead the way.”

Of course Tarik aimed for the cliff, traversing the edge. Keeping as far from the rim as possible, Dante matched Tarik’s pace. “How are the experiments going?”

“I think I’ve found a key to break Gwyllain as the conduit to Anartia and at the same time free Anartia from its inter-dimensional connection to Earth.”

Dante had heard this over fifty years ago and still he remained a Drone, serving Gwyllain and maintaining Anartia. Tarik passed Dante the stone. The weight made his arms ache. His lungs burned from running. He felt good though, alive and in control for once.

Why did Tarik have to run so close to the edge? “What kind of key?” Dante would humor him anyway.

“Sha Warriors.” Tarik shook out his arms. His breathing was labored now. “There are mortals with an excess of chi energy. They emit massive amounts of white light. If I can bring at least three of them here, on Anartia at the same time, I might be able to create a power surge. The power should break the resonant ties to Earth and Anartia will be free to travel anywhere—its original design and purpose intended.”

“When will you do this?” Dante asked.

“The Sha Warriors need to be found and brought here first. Someone with enough life force energy to knock you on your ass.”

He hadn’t been collecting chi for the demoness’s offering for long but Amy had more energy than anyone he’d met. That was why he hadn’t gone after too many other victims. “A Sha Warrior shouldn’t be killed like other prey?”

“Hell, no. And not changed into Drones. Bring them to Anartia.”

“Is this why Gwyllain summoned me back about fifty years early?”

“Partly. My experiments will require extra energy, and she may demand your service at any time. Keep an eye out for a Sha Warrior. We’ll make them slaves on Anartia until we have three to use for my test.” He waved his fingers for Dante to hand him back the stone for his turn.

Dante wanted to finish his cycle and return to Earth to be with Amy. He didn’t want her trapped on Anartia while he was on Earth for his next cycle—for however long that would be. According to Tarik the promise of hundred-year cycles of freedom had just ended. He’d have to finish his quota of chi for this cycle as soon as possible and 70

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keep his suspicions about Amy possibly being a Sha Warrior a secret. “Do you think she’s awake yet? I should be getting back. I have a quota to fill.”

Tarik ignored the question and studied the sky. “Interesting. What’s she up to?”

Pointing at a gray-blue cloud, he said, “See that formation? See how it swirls like the portal stone?”

They stopped running and Dante looked up. “Looks like a tornado forming.”

“The eternal storm. Yes, that suits her. She’s awake now. We should head back.”

They turned around and began a slow jog back to the temple. “She controls the weather?” Dante asked.

“She’s connected to everything. She can’t leave and neither can I without dying and destroying all those tied to Anartia. We are rulers and prisoners of our own kingdom.

She would ravage an entire planet if she could be free.”

“Only a truly evil demoness would care little about destroying another world to free herself from exile.”

Tarik shot him a cold stare while he lifted the stone chest-high.

Dante’s body stiffened. “Demanding and irritable, a royal bitch at times but destroy another world?” Dante shook his head. “I don’t see that in her. She saved my life.”

“Ha! To see that with my own eyes would’ve been a delight. And how did she accomplish this heroic act?”

“My wife and I had left Philadelphia and traveled to California during the 1849

Gold Rush but our stake yielded little gold. The hardship was more than she could endure and she left me for a wealthy ranch owner from Sacramento.”

“Why didn’t you just kill the bastard and take back your woman?” Tarik asked as if that would’ve solved all the problems.

The pain still twisted deep in Dante’s gut. “The rancher had power and money.

Even if I had killed him, my wife wouldn’t have come back. So I decided to return east and open a mercantile business in Philadelphia, make my profits then come back and get her. But while crossing the desert, I…” Dante hesitated. Did he want to admit to this man his failings?

Tarik arched a brow. “What? You were ambushed by enemies? Became seriously ill during the journey?”

Dante rubbed his forehead and stared at his cowboy boots. “No. It was stupid.”

“Can’t be worse than getting caught screwing your ruler’s mistress. How do you think I got exiled here with Gwyllain?”

“I never asked, and I never hear the Drones speak of it.”

“I was the ruler’s engineer and I was working on fragmenting dimensions, creating independent worlds—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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“Doesn’t matter. I was in the middle of creating an alternative universe for Gwyllain, a little private self-contained paradise where we could escape to and where Cragen couldn’t find us.”

“But he found out,” Dante said

Tarik nodded. “Before I was finished. Cragen had other engineers complete the project to his specifications, combining magic and science. Our paradise became our prison for eternity. We need to maintain its energy source or it’ll collapse and become nonexistent and so will we.”

“Her generous offer of immortality was to save her own neck.” Dante shook his head.

“And mine,” Tarik added.

“That explains a lot. She’s not the easiest woman to please.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Tarik narrowed his eyes. “What’s your alter ego?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Your altered form or skill. Drones are given a power or skill to aid them with their quarry.”

“Coyote. At least for the last couple of cycles.”

Tarik nodded. “Interesting. I don’t use my animal form very often.” Tarik’s body and face instantly changed to a slim young man about twenty with long blond-streaked hair. He looked like he was a surfer minus the board. Then he morphed into a man about his original age of early thirties but with dark mahogany skin, lean and handsome in business clothes and next, about ten or fifteen years older as a distinguished-looking man wearing a ski jacket and holding a pair of downhill skis.

Finally, the guy was back in his original form. “I like variety.”

Dante exhaled forcefully, he waited a few moments, expecting Tarik to change again and feeling inadequate with his simplistic shapeshifting skill. “Why do you change form if you don’t go to Earth?”

“I like variety and so does Gwyllain.” Tarik shrugged. “Don’t piss her off, put in your time, a lot of time, and maybe she’ll let me create a new form for you.”

Dante wanted to know how long but somehow it didn’t seem right to ask. “You have an animal form?”

Tarik’s mouth slowly curved into a smile. “Tell me how Gwyllain saved you and I’ll show you my non-human form.”

The wind howled over the crest of the cliffs and whispered through the heather, stirring up the sweet, grassy fragrance. Dante would have to tell Tarik. The man would find out eventually. When you spend eternity with someone trapped in a universe the size of an island, secrets are hard to keep.

“On my way back east, I had stopped over in Tucson and overheard two men talking in a bar,” Dante began. “They said gold had been found in the Rincon 72

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Mountains and not many people had heard because of the California rush. They also mentioned that prospectors were staking their claims and only a few areas remained.”

A smirk formed on Tarik’s face. “I see the conclusion of this tale.”

“Yes, I was a fool. Many men suffered from gold fever and dreams of wealth back then. I traveled to the Rincons. They were on my way anyway. I was ambushed in the desert by a group of men who stole my horse and belongings. They beat me up, left me for dead. That’s when one of the Drones arrived. I thought he was a mirage or I was hallucinating. He looked like an Indian.”

Tarik narrowed his eyes.

His jaw tensed at the horrific possibilities but realized there was no graceful way out it. And he still had the business of worshiping the demoness. “He showed when I was near death. He had been watching me and said John Reilly, the man who stole my wife, had also found gold in my claim and had arranged for my murder. I passed out and came to on Anartia where Gwyllain made her offer. I agreed to her terms—

immortality and revenge on John Reilly—but I had to provide her with the needed chi at her command.”

“She made an offer you couldn’t refuse. But why the coyote?”

“I’ve always had an interest in Indian folklore and I can travel fast and inconspicuously in animal form. Helps me to capture the chi energy of animals more easily.”

Tarik nodded and glanced behind him toward the entrance of the temple. “She’ll be wondering where we are. I’ll show you my beast and be on my way.”

Despite his curiosity, Dante suddenly didn’t want to see Tarik’s non-human form.

Stalling, he said with a bitter edge to his voice, “The price is high for eternal life. I’m still her sex slave.”

“The price is high to maintain Anartia and all who dwell here,” he countered. “She could’ve left you in the desert for the vultures.”

“True.”

The severity of Tarik’s expression didn’t soften. “I only use this when I need to exhibit a little power and strength over her.”

“Fear also draws in more chi on Earth,” Dante said.

Tarik stepped to the edge of the cliff, an inch away from plunging to his death. The wind whipped at his hair and pants. The sound of the waves crashed against the jagged rocks below.

“Wouldn’t all those of Anartia die if you fell?”

Tarik glanced at Dante with a wicked grin and stepped away from the edge. “After we were exiled here over a thousand years ago, I developed a fascination with Egyptian mythology. I selected my form from their mythological creatures, Horus, with a minor alteration.”

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Dante breathed normally again as Tarik moved farther away from the precipice. He searched his memory, trying to recall what sort of beast Horus was as Tarik began to change.

His solid form wavered and flowed into an indefinable mass, then grew taller to about eight feet. Dante stepped back as the creature took shape. From the shoulders down was a more muscular form of Tarik, wearing a loincloth that came down to his knees.

Jerking in surprise and partial fear, Dante backed down a few more steps when the form of a huge falcon’s head replaced Tarik’s head. When the bird of prey turned its head and looked at Dante with one white eye and one golden eye, Dante’s blood ran cold and he froze like a rabbit about to be attacked.

The falcon head turned to the side and opened its mouth. It took in a wheezing breath and exhaled a stream of fire to Dante’s horror. The form of Horus wavered again, shrunk and Tarik again was in his original form, smiling.

“Like the minor alteration? The fire-breathing Horus? I designed that myself. It took me over four hundred years to perfect.”

Dante felt nauseous. He needed to get to the Earth plane soon.

“You look like you have a full load of chi and I want to make a run around my kingdom. Gwyllain should be ready for you by now. Don’t keep her waiting.” He lifted his head as if he could hear. “Yes, she’s moving about. See ya ‘round.” Tarik gave Dante a mischievous grin as he turned and ran down the coastline away from the temple.

Dante gripped his nebula stone pendant in his right hand and charged across the grassy field toward the temple.

Dante didn’t envy the ruling demon—at least Dante could live as a man on Earth.

He probably had a couple more visits before his offering was sufficient. What did Tarik do while his mistress was
maintaining
their kingdom?

* * * * *

Gwyllain was furious.

Dante strolled into the small alcove to the left of the sunken bath. Gwyllain’s deep blue eyes followed him as he approached. She was completely naked and not alone.

“You kept us waiting,” she said with annoyance.

A man in the process of tying her up was solid and about four inches taller than Dante and wore a short loincloth and a gold band around his forehead. Wavy dark hair hung over his brow, nearly hiding exotic blue-gray eyes. Intense emotion smoldered in those eyes but Dante couldn’t determine if the man was evil or merely amused. He nodded to Dante and continued with his wrapping and tying as if it was an art form.

The rope crisscrossed tightly around her breasts, making them jut out, the skin taut.

Then he wound lengths around her upper arms, pulling her arms behind her back and 74

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securing her wrists. He twisted the rope and looped it through a large metal ring hanging from the ceiling.

“Am I interrupting?” Dante asked. “I could always wait outside.” He gave a mischievous grin. His cock was hard, watching Gwyllain, naked and vulnerable and in a submissive role getting tied up.