Forgotten in Darkness (29 page)

“Remember what?” Markus butted in.

She replied, “The past. Apparently, I’m supposed to get a free past-life download when I meet this certain guy. Then we kill each other. It’s a regular Greek tragedy. But this time my little head-banger after attacking a daemon left me memory deficient.” She focused on Cy. “I need to know what you figured out about the curse.”

“It’s Djoser’s
wesekh
. That’s the totem he used to cast the spell.”

“What does that mean?”

“You just have to destroy it.”

“Destroy it? Right. I’ll just waltz up to him and say
pretty please, may I borrow that so I can bust it up?
I’d have an easier time ascending Mount Olympus and having dinner with Apollo.”

“True. But your only other option is to get him to rescind the whole thing voluntarily. That probably won’t work. He hates you almost as much as Dakar.”

“We’re not going to die this time.” She smiled at the gangly teen who spoke like a century-old sage.

“What?” Cy asked, glancing around self-consciously.

“You’re like what, twelve? And sound like you’re eons old.”

“I’m fifteen, thank you. And, yeah, I remember too much. Honestly, I shouldn’t have any recall until after being inducted, but I think the gods had mercy on me this time. Casting counter spells was the only way I survived this long against Djoser.”

“Who’s dying? Shay?” Stephen asked. He pushed his glasses up his face and glared confusion. “Did you do something impetuous again?”

“It’s my middle name.” She gifted him a smile. If she thought she’d remember him in her next lifetime after she died, she’d miss him. “Me dying is a long story. The short version goes, I’m the second half of one really screwed-up ancient Egyptian curse. If all goes according to schedule, then I’ve probably got about a week before croaking.”

“How fascinating.”

Typical Stephen Levin. Forget the death part. He zeroed right in on the curse drama. She shrugged it off. “You guys need to get to the rendezvous point. Anyone got a watch?”

Markus rolled his bare wrist.

Cy muttered, “Right.”

Stephen shook his head.

Markus parted the curtains on the nearby window. “Looks like it’s…daylight. And about to rain.”

“Thanks. I could’ve figured that out. Can you guess the time?”

He shrugged and shook his head.

“You need to head for the parking lot. They’ll show up.”

“And you called my plan half-assed? There’s like no cover out there other than a few cars.”

“You’ve got to trust that this will work. Get out of this building.” As they exited, Shay ordered, “Go. Fast. They promised to be there.”

“Where are you going?” Stephen asked, he glared over the rim of his glasses in a fatherly
no way.

Shay met Cy’s gaze where he perched over Markus’s shoulder, and smiled sadly. “I’m not going with you.”

“Then we go where you go,” Stephen declared. “Safety in numbers.”

“No. I must go talk to Terek about my curse.”

“The psycho in charge of this place? I thought you said it was Djoser who cursed you.”

“Same guy. He’s a daemon possessing a human.”

“I won’t allow it.” He ripped off his glasses and stood with hands on his hips.

Cy reached out and touched Stephen’s arm. “This is what she needs to do. Let her go.” To Shay he said softly, “Good luck. I guarantee Dakar will be about four seconds behind you and ready to kick some daemon ass.”

****

Dakar slid through the wooded area around the Sanctum toward the parking lot along with the others. Bad idea working with humans. Went against the code. Protect the innocent. Not, put them into the front lines, into danger. Ultimately he or one of the others would spend their time protecting instead of focusing on the threats. Asinine.

But he’d already done enough of that for today. Now, his sole objective was to get Shaiani as far away from Djoser as possible.

He broke through the tree line before the others, and ran for the corner edge of the parking lot. Nakhti, his
bochnori
, gripped his shoulder tight in warning. He pulled up short, and threw an arm out to grab Ashor. “Don’t move. It’s warded.”

Khyan emitted a short whistle, stopping the others. “What is it?”

“’Tis warded,” Dakar announced.

Khyan closed his eyes. “Bahri says it’s a power purge spell.”

“Ballocks,” Dakar cursed.

“What’s a power purge spell?” Ashor asked.

Khyan explained, “Means if we cross this, it takes all our powers and we’re left naked as these humans. Since Djoser has figured out how to get his magik to work on us, I’m pretty sure this is set for us.”

“How long you think it’ll take out our powers?” Ashor asked.

Dakar held his hands close to where he felt the barricade of the spell’s power, asking Nakhti to evaluate it. “It’s Etemmu daemon casting. That means whoever cast this invoked a god’s power in the process. We cross and it may be a long time or forever before we get back our abilities.”

Ashor swore. “Means until we bring this wall down we don’t cross. You think the spell keeper remembers anything?”

“What’s going on?” Kane asked. “Why are we stopped? I see Markus over there.” He pointed to three people hunched behind a green four-door American sedan.

“Yeah, and they’re about to have unfriendly company.” Astrid nodded to the swarm of hostiles bearing down on them.

Ashor held his hand up against an invisible wall. “There’s a warded wall right here that we can’t cross without asking for some very bad juju. It’s a trap. We need that kid over here to see if he can bring it down. It’s a long shot since he probably doesn’t remember anything about us. Everyone back into the forest.”

“The kid can help?” Kane asked, jogging behind them as they melted back into the forest.

Ashor nodded. “He’s a special kid. Belongs with us.”

“What is this bullshit? There’s nothing there. Are you delusional? An invisible wall?” Astrid ran for the area of the barrier and swiped her hand through the invisible bespelled area.

Ashor cringed and hissed air through his teeth. “Astrid. Get out of plain sight.”

Dakar watched her curiously as she sauntered back to them, uncaring for her personal safety. She didn’t seem to experience any adverse effects from the wall. He said softly to her, “We cannot cross. It’ll kill all magikal abilities.”

“You guys a bunch of deluded warlock wannabes or something?” Her gaze shot to Javen who granted her a rare smile. She rounded on Kane. “What kind of psychotic scum have you recruited?”

“They’re the real deal. Trust me.”

“Whatever, I’ll go get that kid. At least one of us has to show some balls.” She poised to leave.

“You aren’t going alone,” Kane announced.

“You can’t cross it,” Ashor said, gripping Kane’s arm to keep him still. “It’ll kill your gifts. Your powers. And I don’t know for how long.”

“What powers? I don’t have anything like Kira.”

“Both you and your brother do. You know it, even if you won’t admit it. It’s that sixth sense that keeps you alive when you’re up shit creek. You can’t cross. I don’t know what it’ll do to you. This could be a trap set to attack anyone with preternatural abilities.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. She spun and sprinted toward the parking lot, gun drawn.

Kane said, “Hell. Help me cover her, Nate. You’re the only sniper here.”

Kane and Nate dropped behind a slight hilling of the ground near the wall. Both targeted and depressed triggers within seconds. The bullets hit the invisible wall and as if caught by a Velcro dartboard, hung suspended in midair for a few seconds, then dropped harmlessly to the ground.

“That’s not good,” Nate announced.

“No shit.” Kane turned to his two team members that had joined them. “Mike. Jim. Go. Cover her.”

Both stood frozen, staring at the dead-on-the-ground bullets.

Kane stomped close and yelled, “Hear me? Move ass!”

Both shook off their what-the-hells and nodded, charging through the warded wall.

Dakar watched Astrid down three Hashishins with perfect central forehead shots.

“Two just popped her mid-chest. Hopefully, her vest is holding, but bet that stung like a son-of-a-bitch,” Kane commented as he moved back into the cover of trees.

The gun flew out of her hand as a knife impacted. Astrid cursed but continued her run toward the sedan, drawing a second handgun.

A knife hit Mike through the neck. Blood spurted. Death shot.

Jim courageously covered Astrid to the car where Markus, Cy, and Stephen cowered, until a knife caught the biceps in his trigger arm.

Astrid pushed Jim to the ground and fired off ten rounds into the offending Hashishin. And reloaded.

“Bloody hell, that woman is nuts,” Kyan said. “Respect the shit out of it. She got a death wish or something, Kane?”

“It’s tough to keep her this side of the afterlife,” Kane replied.

Astrid rounded up their quarry. She and Jim back covered as they headed toward the wall. At the midpoint on their trek, Markus halted, carrying Cy, and darted behind a massive tree. There was a furtive low conversation. Astrid stayed with Cy by the tree while Markus and Stephen continued onwards to the wall with Astrid covering their run. At least three knives struck her back and two sank into her left thigh but didn’t stop her. She jogged backwards to the tree, shooting any target that popped up.

Stephen ran across the invisible barrier and fell onto the ground behind the guys.

Kane dove behind the hill just in front of the invisible wall and yelled, “Stop, Markus. Don’t move.”

Markus halted and frowned. “What?” A few shots echoed behind him. He ducked low to the ground and darted behind the single thin tree near him. “I can’t sit here like a goddamned target.”

Kane said, “There’s some sort of voodoo warded wall or shit right here that you can’t cross.”

“Why not?”

“For fuck’s sake, just don’t,” Kane ordered.

Dakar stomach crawled next to Kane and nodded toward the kid. “Why is Cyrus over there? What is wrong with him?”

“Terek cut off his leg not too long ago. He’s in a world of hurt. But the real issue right now is he’s got an electronic ankle band and says he’s at its limit. He moves any further and it might kill him.”

Dakar ordered, “I need you to ask him if he has any ability to remove this wall.”

“You want me to run back over there?” Markus glared at the several hundred feet of wide-open, manicured lawn between the tree he stood by now and Cy. “You know, I’d rather take my chances with this voodoo wall-thing.”

“Don’t.” Kane hit his communicator ear bud. “Astrid. Over. Astrid, you there?” Seconds later he cursed and screamed, “Astrid!” He stood and signaled to her before collapsing back on his stomach behind the hill. “She’ll distract ’em long enough for you to get over there.”

The Hashishins were moving in toward Cy and Astrid. He was their primary interest. Jim fell to his knees as multiple knives hit each limb.

Kane nodded. “She’s got you, Markus. Go.”

Markus turned, poised to run. Astrid sprinted toward the approaching Hashishins. Markus shot Kane a smile. “I like that girl. Did you see she’s pulling grenades?”

Kane pointed at Cy. “Get on with this. Don’t get your ass wasted.”

Markus nodded and ran for Cy. A huge explosion rang out from the direction of the Hashishins. Markus darted back toward the warded wall and reported. “Says he doesn’t have enough to pull it off. If god magik was used to build it, then it’ll take a god to bring it down. I’m going back over toward Cy. This little tree sucks for cover.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The dull
pop-pop
of gunfire from outside signaled the fight was on. Shay hoped Cy and Stephen made it to safety.

She slid into the back of an ostentatious ceremonial room. Monotone chanting spread a miasma of icy evil throughout the space. The hairs of her forearms stood erect in a subconscious salute to impending malevolence. Instinct demanded she leave, and the
bochnori
concurred.
Don’t chicken out now.

Candelabras cast a low, seductive light and bounced shadows off the intricate paneled walls and ceiling. Beautiful inlays and carvings adorned the walls and floor with a natural movement toward the raised dais at the center, on which Djoser directed.

It’s now or never.

After one fortifying breath, she strode down the pseudo-central aisle, skirting around several kneeling,
bisht
-robed,
keffiyeh-
wearing men. She stopped a few feet from where Terek, aka Djoser, stood with arms raised, leading the incantations.

All chants ceased.

She pointed at him. “You and me. We need to talk.” In the now-mute room, each movement of air through her lungs echoed in her ears.

Djoser squinted at her. He raised his left hand. A man to her left rose and seized her elbow, dragging her toward the exit.

She fought for freedom, resorting to scratching at the mega-fist clamped around her forearm. “He and I have some business that needs attending to.”

Her bouncer backhanded her, throwing her into the air. With a brain-numbing whack, her head bounced off the wall. Pain detonated.

As she lay, stunned, an image flashed in her mind of a crude boat rigged with broad sails cruising down the Nile. She was no more than five, holding her mother’s hand. Impressions crowded in, overloading her. Imhotep, Djoser’s trusted high priest, arranging her marriage…her beloved parents murdered in the wake of Djoser’s wrath at her no-show for the marriage ceremony...countless reincarnations. Then, a hazy image of an Egyptian man swam in her brain, one whose eyes she recognized. Dakar, only at a different time. In a different body, still singular and powerful.

She remembered…at least some of the past. Relief, anger, shock, and grief hit simultaneously, incapacitating her for a full thirty seconds.

Her mind instantly connected to Dakar’s.

His voice rumbled in her brain,
Are you in my head, Shaiani? I can feel you.

Had a little head-banger that must’ve knocked the memory department back into action. I don’t have full recall, but pretty good. Are you close?