Soul Unbound (Key to the Cursed Book 3) (13 page)

Bomani had heard Sekhmet’s apology but was too
furious to accept it. Her moods ran hot and cold. Every time he got close, she
would shove him away. Her rejection infuriated him, not only for the fact he
needed information, but he
wanted
her.

Desire rode him hard to the point he was willing
to throw his freedom away for one taste of those lips. The more obstinate she
became, the more he wanted to silence her scowl with a kiss she would not soon forget.

The gods truly had cursed him.

He shook off this growing infatuation and stared
down at the bloodstain on the street. He regretted not intervening when he had
first run into the youngling. Had he done so, the human male would probably
still be alive. Another black mark against his already stained soul.

He tracked the blood up the side of the building
and leapt up to the roof. The stench of rotten eggs wafted up from a large pool
of black blood on the tar roof. An island of ash filled the center, surrounded
by the oily moat.

A human and a siravant dead? Maybe the youngling
got the upper hand? Very unlikely. Something did not add up.

He followed the blood trail to a large exhaust fan
and leaned in closer. An iridescent liquid covered one of the fan blades.

Youngling blood? Had he followed Sekhmet, he would
have completely missed this.

He searched the entire perimeter of the roof. The
smell of death was stronger in certain areas than others. There had been more
than one siravant on this roof. At least one at each corner. He stared down at
the adjacent buildings. They were at the highest point on this block. He walked
to the far corner closest to the busy street.

The heaviest concentration consolidated at this
point, and the wall of stench hit him from twenty feet away.

“What in
duat
?” Bomani stared at the mounds
of cigarette butts littering this section. He scanned the street and alley
below. The yellow police tape flapped in the wind, as did the scent of human
blood.

Did the siravants know to wait for the youngling
here? Based on the number of cigarette butts, the siravants had been here for a
while. Conducting surveillance? It was more likely the youngling had stumbled
upon something he was not supposed to see. No, they were here for another reason.

Bomani lifted his gaze to stare at the gray city
lights. Among the haze the dingy silver diner with its flashing red beacon
appeared, like artwork framed between the buildings and the paved streets.

“Shit.” Bomani was not the only one hunting Sekhmet.
The monster had already found his mark. He shifted his energy and flew through
the street. Sekhmet was heading into a trap, set by Menthu. Any anger he may have
had dissipated, replaced by overwhelming dread he was already too late.

Bomani materialized just behind Sekhmet with the
intent of yanking her out of this place. He knew his mistake the minute the goose
bumps rose on the back of her neck.

She whipped around and lunged at him with her
blade.

Bomani blocked her wrist, but not before she
nicked his neck—again.

“Damn it, look what you made me do.” She leapt and
pressed her fingers to the wound. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears. “What are
you doing here? I told you to leave. Can you not just listen?” Her fingers
slipped against his blood slick skin.

He covered her trembling hand with his own. “You
need to get out of here.”

“You should know better than to sneak up on me in
a room full of dead bodies,” she said, ignoring his warning.

“I should know better than to sneak up on you at
all.”

She glared at him, but the upturn of her lips
beguiled her stern scolding. “The youngling is here.”

“I know.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “You know?”

“This is a trap, we need to leave now.” He
restrained her by the arms.

“I will not leave without him.” Her enticing green
eyes begged him to comply.

Gods, she could distract him even in the most
urgent of situations. “The first sign of trouble we are out of here. Youngling
or not.”

She nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

There it was again, the nagging need to kiss her.

“What is this?” he asked, staring at the gruesome
sight over her shoulder. It disturbed him that he felt nothing for the humans, several
of which he remembered from the other night as he watched them poisoning their
bodies with drugs.

“They are sacrifices in honor of Apep. The blood
will draw his followers here.”

“Where do we start looking?” Bomani scanned beyond
the bodies, wanting nothing more than to get out of this death trap.

She laced her hand in his and pulled him from one
room to another.

The deeper they plunged into the building the more
Bomani’s hair stood on end. He tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her to
a stop. “This does not feel right. Why would the youngling stay in this place?
If only to keep you here.”

“Are you suggesting he is infected?”

“I found blood on the roof, both siravant and
creation. You have to be honest with me, is your father behind this?”

A pained look washed over her face. “Did Bast tell
you?”

“You are in danger. He is coming for you.”

Sekhmet bit her lip and looked away. “Do you think
less of me?”

“What—no! Did you not hear me? Menthu is coming
for you.”

“We all have our demons,” she said and glided out
of his reach.

“Sekhmet,” he called.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder, just
enough he saw the graceful outline of her face. He had an odd sense of déjà vu.

“My name is—”

“Siya.” The name slipped free from his lips.
Relief ran through him to finally remember. Not his memory though. Khalfani had
given her the name.

She turned to face him, eyes wide. “What did you
say?”

Black shadows crawled against the ceiling behind
her head. “Siya!” He launched forward and tackled her. He rolled with her
against his chest and narrowly missed a siravant’s large jaws.

The demons descended upon the bodies with a foray
of claws and gnashing teeth. Blood splattered across the room. A siravant’s red
eyes targeted them. Malice and hatred rolled off the creature in dark crashing
waves. Bomani rose to his feet and pulled Siya with him.

The youngling jumped from the room to their right.
The light blue eyes were obliterated with black. Empty and soulless. The youth
lunged at Siya. With her back turned she did not see the incoming blade. Bomani
pivoted and shoved Siya out of the way. The venom burned straight through his
flank and into his abdomen.

Siya’s blade sang through the air and sliced the
pale flesh of the youth’s neck. Black blood erupted from the wound. Sulfur
filled the air around them. Bomani grabbed Siya and dematerialized before the
real monster arrived to claim his prize.

Bomani could not risk the siravants tracing them
back to base, so he went to the only other safe place he knew. His feet hit the
black sand beach. His stomach rolled and pitched with the venom filtering
through his body. Over the years he had grown accustom to its affects. Not
quite as severe as a full-blooded god, but damn if it did not make him sick.

He stumbled, but Siya gripped his waist to steady
him. “Sit here.” She guided him down to the sand. Her hands worked to rip his
coat and shirt off to expose the wound. “Lie back.”

She leaned down and palpated the wound. The sour
scent of venom exited the cut flesh. The blade had cut through the skin between
the tattoos. Any other location and the blade would not have penetrated.

“I will be fine.”

“It is not the venom I am worried about.” She
sniffed and rubbed the red glistening blood between her fingertips. She ran to
the shore and cupped the black water in her hands. Kneeling by his side, she
dripped the water into the wound. He closed his eyes and listened to her recite
a short prayer.

The liquid cooled the venom’s burn.

“It is not enough. We need to get you into the
water.” She grabbed the buckle of his pants and unclipped it.

“I got it,” he said, grabbing her hands from his
zipper. Injured or not, he did not want any unexpected surprises. He stripped
off his pants and waded into the water until it covered the laceration on his
flank. Then he turned his gaze out over the water.

In all his years in the Underworld he had never
dared step into the river that birthed him. The only time a warrior returned
was at his death. All feared entering would herald an early demise.

“Our clothes will need to be burned,” she jumped
up and ran to the edge of the green bank. She grabbed several dry palms and
rotted wood. Bomani looked over his shoulder at the sound of her striking two
rocks together. The spark ignited and gray smoke rose from the center.

When the fire was rolling, she tossed in his shirt
and pants. Black smoke billowed and sparks snapped as the fire consumed the
black blood. Siya pulled her shirt off and threw it into the fire. Bomani
forced his gaze from her beautiful curves to the dark horizon.

The water rippled around his waist. Warm hands
pressed to his back and pushed him deeper. He resisted, but then gave into her
demands until the water rose to chest high.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” The stitch of pain in his side was almost
healed.

She glided around until she was facing him. The
water lapped at the tops of her breasts and shadowed the blush of her nipples.
She reached out and palpated his side. Warmth spread through his abdomen at the
touch of her hand. Her brows furrowed over her pain filled eyes. “You are
already healed.”

“I am sorry about the youngling.” If he had just
known, the youngling would have never been captured.

“He is better off.”

“What is going on there?” It angered him that Bast
would sit back and watch while more innocent lives were lost.

“My father came to see me a few nights ago. Wanted
me to join him.” She looked towards the beach. The orange glow of the fire
reflected in her eyes.

“You refused?”

“Menthu does not take
no
for an answer. He
will strike where it hurts most until I agree.”

“He must know you will not.”

“I may not have a choice.” She frowned.

He searched her face for an explanation but
realized the answer had been there all along. She was only half Creation. He
had seen a glimpse of her other side during their first encounter. Red eyes,
fangs. The Destroyer. Was there truth in the rumors?

“I will not let that happen.” He stepped closer
and brushed his thumb against her cheek to remove the black drops of blood.

“You may not have a choice.” She refocused back on
his chest. Her sand covered palms rubbed against his skin, removing the rotten
serum.

Her words left him empty. Trapped between worlds,
he was sinking deeper in quicksand, and at some point, there would be no
escape.

“How did you know to call me Siya?” she asked
after the long silence, her gaze searching his face.

He rinsed his hand in the water and moved to her
forehead. “I do not know. An echo of Khalfani’s memory.”

Her hands paused on his chest. “Do you carry
all
of his memories?”

He shook his head and continued to trace her
brows, nose and the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Such soft perfect
skin. He continued his exploration of her neck and bare shoulders. The tension
in her body melted under his touch, and she closed her eyes.

His gaze came to rest on her parted lips. Heat pulsed
in aching waves. Longing to kiss her, he leaned down and brushed his lips
against her parted mouth. She sucked in a breath and he followed, sealing her
with a longer, harder kiss.

“We cannot do this.” Her protest was muffled by
his persistent and unwavering exploration.

He pulled her close, craving the press of her bare
flesh. Her palms remained planted against his chest in such a way he feared she
would shove him away again. He snared her wrists and pulled them up around his
neck, bringing her even closer. Undaunted, he penetrated her mouth with his
tongue. His body roared to life, injury or not. Millenniums of hunger poured
through him.

He gripped her tight, refusing to let go. For the
first time, pleasure overrode his pain. His soul devoured her energy, feeding
it on a level he could not comprehend, but he wanted more.

He traced her spine with his palm to the small
curve of her bottom. Her tongue tangled with his. He groaned and backed her
towards the shore, committed to claiming her. He eased them back on the black
sand and settled between her legs. The tip of his cock met the wetness of her
arousal.

He pressed his forehead to her chest, wanting so
much to plunge himself into her core. Consequences be damned. So long he had
denied himself.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and guided him
over to her breast. He captured the taut nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking
until she squirmed. The movement pushed him a little deeper.

She widened her legs and rolled her hips. Urgent
and unforgiving, he thrust into her. Anger, lust and punishment. Forethought to
the consequences held no bounds, just an insatiable need. Her gasps of pleasure
beckoned him to continue, despite the gravity of the act.

Siya wrapped her arms around his neck and enclosed
his hips with her legs. He slid his hands down and cupped her ass. The next
thrust connected deep within her core. She arched into him and cried out.

Gods, she was beautiful.

A red-hot energy rushed through his veins, fed by
the life force he carried in his soul. It traveled to his balls swift and sure.
The drive to claim her was strong and unrelenting, like nothing he had ever
felt before. The change brought him out of his high, nagging him to stop.

Her tongue tracked along smooth sensitive skin
between the tattoos on his neck while her nails dug into the flesh of his back,
igniting sensations beyond rapture. The taste of sweet vanilla flooded his senses
and overrode his second thoughts.

Besides her, nothing else mattered. He was free
from pain at least for as long as he could last. He hissed out a breath, fighting
the burn in his cock.

He dug his fingers into her ass and slammed into
her. Unable to stop some of his seed from spilling into her, he groaned.

“Bomani,” Siya cried, pleasure creasing her face.
Her pale green eyes stared back at him with an agony he wanted to end. The next
thrust sent her over, clenching him tight. His entire body shook with her
orgasm. He tasted it with every cell in his body, as if it was his own.

The ecstasy exploded between them, snapping his
hold. He roared with the detonation of his orgasm. He forced himself into her
until it was unbearable. Siya jerked in his grasp, almost breaking his hold on
her.

He breathed in deep, his chest full of energy and
contentment. The scent of lilacs saturated his nose, stronger than it had
before, and the ache in his chest was absent. He sighed and pulled her tighter,
refusing to wake from his bliss.

The loud pounding of her heart against his chest
forced him back to reality. She moved her left hand from his neck to her
breast. Her breath ceased for a moment, followed by rapid rising and falling of
her chest.

Her skin lit up like hot coals, forcing him to
pull back.

Horror had replaced the rapture in her eyes. Her
face paled to a pasty white and her hand was clasped tightly over her heart.

“Siya,” he said, now fully alert.

Her mouth dropped open but no words escaped her
lips.

“What is it?” Alarmed, he pulled her hand away.
The skin over her left breast blackened before his eyes into a symbol of a lion
with a crescent moon.

He stared at it, dumbfounded and confused and then
met her stricken gaze.

“No,” she gasped, shaking her head as tears rushed
down her cheeks.

His euphoria evaporated, replaced by sheer panic.
The fact it was her feelings he sensed through the bond, only sealed the truth.
Their souls were irreversibly bound.

“Shit!”