Soul Unbound (Key to the Cursed Book 3) (9 page)

“Thank you,” he said on forced breath, hating he
now owed her. If he learned anything from Bast, nothing came without a price.

“You are welcome, Bomani.” She regarded him a moment
from the doorway before stepping onto the dock.

Bomani followed, despising his compulsion for the
female. His instincts were screaming, burning in fact. Either he was on the
right path or ready to step into a pit.

A disturbing thought came to the forefront and
soured his stomach as he joined Sekhmet. With all her powers, Bast could not
find this goddess
who lived out in the open and harnessed power he could
sense two blocks away?

“Beautiful night,” Sekhmet said and returned her gaze
to the stars.

“Cold,” Bomani growled and pulled the hood up over
his head. The fabric smelled of flowers. He hated to admit her generosity saved
him from freezing another night.

“This, coming from an Underworlder?” She laughed,
but then pressed her lips together in a suppressed smile.

Despite her levity, he did not find it all that
funny. He stared ahead, refusing to comment.

“Just trying to lighten the tension.”

He met her gaze. She stared him dead in the eyes.
He wondered if anyone intimidated this goddess. “I am not very good company.”

“Trust me, I understand.” She kicked at the dry
wood beneath her feet. “Listen, I am not going to ask why you are here, but you
need to know, it is not safe.”

“Safe from you?” His intended smile presented more
as a sneer.

“That is not what I meant.”

“So, you are concerned for
my
safety?” He
may be rogue, but he was not the one marked for death.

“Consider it a professional courtesy.”

“Warning taken.”

She unsheathed the dagger from her thigh holster.

Bomani’s muscles tensed, not quite ready to trust
her.

She flipped the blade and offered him the hilt.
“If you plan on staying, you will need this.”

He hesitated accepting her offer. Again, nothing
came without payment.

“Take the damn blade,” she grunted.

He gripped the weapon, but before he could lift it
away her slender fingers wrapped around his hand.

“I meant what I said about being careful.” She released
him. “It was nice to meet you, Bomani.” With a nod she turned and jogged down
the dock.

He stared down at the weapon completely
dumbfounded by the goddess’ actions. This was the
Destroyer
Bast feared?
Even the exilers he had captured grimaced at the name.

Tucking the blade into the waistband of his pants,
he gazed at the energy trail the goddess had conveniently left behind. Bast and
Sekhmet had given him fair enough warning to stay away.

He stepped towards the collapsed warehouse,
chastising himself for even thinking about going after the goddess. He stalked
back into the building intent on waiting Bast out. In two strides he froze, his
body uncommitted to his mind’s task.

It hungered for something far more pleasing.

He pivoted and charged out the door to chase
danger
.

Had she finally lost her mind?

Theris was right. Siya could not leave well enough
alone. In addition to orphans, she’d added a wayward warrior to the list.
Younglings were one thing to win over. Food, shelter and protection.

A warrior? A more complicated prospect, especially
one who either escaped or was kicked out of the underworld. She scratched the
scarab mark on her neck, contemplating the possible outcomes.

Best case scenario, Bomani heeded her warning and
left the city.

Worst case, he stayed and would bring
complications she was not sure how to handle. Not unlike her horse, those dark
brooding eyes were growing on her more than she would like. Not to mention, the
intricate tattoos carved into his flesh were far too tempting. She regretted
seeing him pull the black shirt over them.

She blew out a breath of pure frustration. Her
head should not go there, nor should her heart. Those fancies were lost the
minute she was branded an exiler. Exasperated with how badly she handled things
with Bomani, she pulled her hood up and delved deeper into the city. Based on
Henry’s sighting, the youngling would have crossed over Fifth Avenue. One more,
she promised herself. Once the youngling was off the streets, she would
refigure her strategy.

Pulling out the last of her cash from her pocket, she
stopped at the hero joint. A cashier sat at the curbside window with red
peeling paint framing the grease covered screen.

“All meat on wheat, please.”

“Sure thing.” The cashier turned and yelled at the
grill cook, repeating her order. The girl glanced at Siya briefly, and then
went back to texting on her phone. The cook smiled and arched his eyebrows, but
then quickly went to work making the sandwich. Humans never held Siya’s stare
for long, nor did they invade her personal space. Even the gawking males behind
her subverted their gaze as if sensing their rung on the evolutionary ladder.

Despite Siya’s emersion among humans, she was
still an outsider. Regardless, she had vowed her life to protect Mother’s
creation. So had the Creation Pantheon, but where were they in this fight?

Haru asked too much of her. To go up against her
father alone?

She had been somewhat hopeful when Bomani crossed
her path. The Commander obviously had issues of his own. She had never seen a
warrior so disheveled or morphed for that matter. His eyes were black and his
teeth jagged, never a good sign. The only time she ever saw Khalfani in that state
was in the heat of battle.

“Here you go.” The girl handed Siya the sandwich.

“Thanks.” Siya tucked the food into her cloak
pocket and moved deeper into the city. Bright lights illuminated the banner
above the American History Museum, announcing the featured exhibit—King Tut’s
tomb.

Siya frowned, hating that the remnants of the
ancient society had been scattered all over the globe. The world of her kind
had crumbled along with the monuments risen in their honor. She forced her eyes
away and focused on the energy surrounding her. The youngling could be
anywhere.

Sticking to the alleys, she snaked her way through
the city. She paused at the next street. The hairs on the back of her neck
stood on end as her eyes gravitated to the end of the empty alley. The light
scent of decay carried in the air. The bitterness burned her nose. Similar to her
father’s, but more sulfuric.

She narrowed her eyes and scanned from street to
rooftop. The energy and scent was familiar in a way that put a chill to her
bones. Loosening the saber at her waist, she stepped forward.

A chill tickled the back of her neck. She whipped
around and grabbed the figure stalking her. Her hand wrapped around the thick neck
of her wayward warrior.

“It is best not to sneak up on me unless you want
your throat slit,” she growled. She relaxed her fingers but did not remove her
grasp. She shoved him into the closest doorway.

A jumble of emotions filtered through her. Anger,
frustration—warmth. “What in
duat
are you doing?” She glared up at him.

“I am out for a walk. What are you doing?” His
deep rich voice washed over her.

Out for a walk
? It was the worst lie she
had ever heard, but then again maybe that was his point. She shoved him up
against the door one last time and released him. “What I am doing is none of
your concern.”

His gaze swept over her face and then settled on
her lips. “We share the neighborhood, so yeah, it is my business.”

“I was here first.” She tipped her chin up in
mocking stubbornness.

His mouth twitched into a half-smile. “How do you
know I was not here first?”

“Fine. You tell me why you are here, and I will
share what I am doing,” she said and stowed her weapon. If he wanted to play,
she was game.

His mouth thinned to a grim line.

“That is what I thought. You do not want to share,
then stop asking questions.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. The air around him
chilled to the point her breath vaporized in a white cloud.

She stepped back, surprised by his sudden
aggression and regretting the fact she armed him with one of her blades. Snaring
her wrist, he whipped her back into the doorway.

“Do not make a sound,” he hissed in her ear.

The coldness around him dropped further. She
jerked her wrist away, but he pinned her against the door.

“Shh…” His cold breath skimmed across her neck.

Dark energy filled the street, along with smell of
rotten eggs. She had been so distracted by their verbal folly, she failed to
monitor the source. Bomani’s body shifted, camouflaging her and her powers. She
met his gaze, and he turned just enough to look over his shoulder.

A group of humans swaggered up the alleyway. Each
member wore a red bandana in various locations. The prickling on her neck
increased until it was on the verge of painful, and she locked her gaze on one
particular human. Dark eyes and black hair, the man walked in the back of the
pack. Where the others slouched with their hoods forward, this male’s hood was
down. His gaze shifted right and left.

She traced Bomani’s beltline to the weapon at his
waist.

His large hand stayed her from pulling it free.
“No.”

The man stopped and looked over his shoulder.
Siya’s skin crawled as she stared at the so called human. Its black oily gaze
swept over their location before he joined back up with his friends.

Bomani held her taut until the group rounded the
corner. The coldness receded, but Siya remained pinned against the door. “I
think they are gone,” she said with a glare.

He stepped back just enough to put a few inches
between them. “Care to explain what that was?”

“I do not know.” It was not the first time she
felt that amount of evil. She just did not want to admit the truth.

He placed two fingers on her chin and tipped her
head up. “Sekhmet?”

She winced at the sound of her given name. At one
time she was that person, but that was then. She jerked her head back to break
his touch, but he grasped the back of her neck. Her scarab mark warmed under
his fingertips.

“Don’t.” Siya slipped under his arm, unable to breathe
with him so close.

Bomani pivoted to face her.

Her heart slammed in her chest, and she retreated
a few steps, unwilling to give up her freedom. He filled her head with memories
she would rather forget. “We are done here,” she snapped.

Her words halted him, but he tracked her every
movement. “What was that thing?”

“Something that should not be here,” she said and
shook her head. Gods, she hated being right. “I need to go.”

She pulled her energy in and vanished before she did
something she would regret later.

Bomani grasped his pounding temple. He had drained
his last reserves of energy to conceal them. He had never sensed such dark
energy. Everything about the man appeared human, yet it was anything but.

One thing was certain, Sekhmet had lied. He had
seen the look in her eye. Sensed her fear. What could possibly spook
her
enough
she had been ready to kill with witnesses present?

He stared down the alley where the youths disappeared.
He recognized two of the five from the other night when he had run into the
youngling. The young god had the same look in his eyes as her.

And what was Sekhmet looking for exactly?

The goddess had stopped to pick up food, similar
to what she had brought him. Was she looking for something or someone? Regrettably,
the answers to his questions disappeared with the goddess. He rubbed his
fingertips that still tingled from touching her exiler mark. The human was not
the only thing to spook her.

Bomani cursed and raked his hand through his hair.
He stepped into the goddess’ energy wake. There was a small chance he could
track her, but based on her reaction to his touch, it would be a wonder she
would not kill him on sight.

He dematerialized and followed the scent of lilacs
and vanilla. He reappeared several blocks away. Again, she backtracked several
times until the trail went cold. He looked around at the familiar surroundings.
It could not be happenstance she brought him back here to where it all began.

He huffed out a breath and trudged into his
concrete abode, none too happy to be back here. He landed at the bottom of the
elevator shaft and stumbled down the broken slab of concrete.

His head and chest ached with a vengeance even his
own fury could not manifest. His gaze fell upon a brown paper package sitting
neatly on the column in front of him. He parted the paper, revealing the fresh
sandwich.
Damn
, the female knew how to tempt him in the worst way.

The air shifted behind him and he whipped around.

“You seem surprised, Commander. Were you expecting
someone else?” Bast floated down off the fallen wall.

Expecting, no. Hoping, yes.

“No, just surprised to see you slumming,” Bomani
hissed in an attempt to hide his disappointment.

“Have you made good use of your time? Have you
found your mark?”

“Yes.” He could not risk lying or else Bast would
have him by the balls.

“Good boy.” A smile curled her lips. “And?”

“She does not hide her presence and has contact
with the humans.”

“Tell me something I do not already know.” She
frowned.

“I need more time.” Bomani shifted his coat to
hide his blade and the new shirt. Either would raise Bast’s suspicions.

“You have had sufficient time.”

“It is a little difficult when you gave me
no
information.
Or fail to inform me she is the Goddess of War. When were you going to let me
in on that little detail?”

Bast lifted her chin. “I told you she was
dangerous and gave you strict orders to maintain your distance.”

“Yeah, that helped.” He laughed bitterly.

“You have kept your distance, have you not?”
Bast’s green eyes bore into him.

“I am not stupid.” He crossed his arms over his
chest to reinforce his lie. He was dumb, stupid and a fool.

“You are a horrible liar.”

The room heated to an unbearable burn to match the
redness in her face. “Imbecile! Do you know what you are messing with?”

“No, because you are not being straight with me,”
he bellowed, unable to contain his fury.

“You are so damned predictable. I tell you to stay
away and you do just the opposite. When will you decide to heed my warnings?”
Bast scolded.

Bomani’s migraine settled in for a visit. “And my
role in all of this?”

“Had you done as I asked, it would have been
simply to observe, but you could not follow simple directions.” Bast paced the
small slab of concrete. “You have no idea what Sekhmet truly is, do you?”

“She is not Creation.”

“On the contrary, her mother was a great friend to
the Protectors and served on the Council in the highest stations. A descendent
of the royal bloodline.”

“Her father?” Gods, he honestly did not want to
know.

“Have you not guessed? I expected more out of you,
being the Commander of the Underworld legion for so long. Are you all muscle
and no brain?”

“I am sick of your games,” he hissed. The pain
surged in his head. He leaned on the wall, fearing he would pass out.

“A god you have hunted for the last year.”

“Menthu.” The God of War had eluded capture
despite being impaled in the chest by the Mevt dagger. The god’s body had
disappeared from the Thebes’ battlefield, and they had been hunting him since.
After all that time, Bast put him on a collision course with his daughter? “You
have known Sekhmet’s connection to Menthu all this time and did not see fit to
share this information with Asar?”

“The information needed to be protected until the
right moment, you understand. Now that Kepi is dead, Menthu needs a
replacement. Sekhmet is the logical choice. Her pain and rage will draw him
like lions on the trail of fresh blood. When that happens, we will destroy
him.”

Bast spoke of Menthu. His father must not have
informed the Creation Pantheon about Nebt, the Underworld traitor, joining
Menthu’s ranks. Or worse, that Bomani had almost helped her overthrow the
Underworld.

“Since you have already revealed yourself to
Sekhmet, I want you to get close to her. She is unstable, so it should not be
long before her father makes his move. Inform me the minute he does.”

“How do you know he will?”

“Trust me, males are all the same. Predictably
stupid.”

“And if Sekhmet does not let me in?”

“Figure it out and do not get yourself killed. If
you want to get back in Asar’s good graces, what better way than bringing
Menthu down.”

“What of Sekhmet?”

Bast pursed her lips. “The Goddess of War has
served her purpose. Her execution will be called forth.”

“Like the warhorses of old,” Bomani muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bomani leaned against the wall, feeling
as discarded as the war animals.

“Sekhmet will face her judgment as all others do
in Asar’s great hall. Consider it a belated gift from the Creation Pantheon.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. You will be a hero beyond all others, trust
me.” Bast leaned into his chest and dragged her lips against his. “I will see
you soon, Commander.” A bright flash announced her departure before he could
clarify what she meant by
gift
.

The room shifted and he landed on his ass. He
leaned his head back on the cold stone wall. He had escaped Aaru only to end up
in another nightmare and a puppet in a game to capture Menthu, the Pantheon’s
enemy. Yet, he would be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

He wanted Menthu with every cell of his being.
Nebt—well, Bomani had a score to settle with her. She had used him against his
own family. And then there was Sekhmet. Was he willing to sacrifice the goddess
to regain his father’s favor?

The wind blew the brown wrapper across the room
until it settled next to him on the ground. Pain racked his entire body. He
could not sink any lower. There was nowhere else to go but up, no matter the
outcome.

No matter the victor.