Cold Moon Rising (5 page)

More sounds now, mechanical and soft. Pain ripped at my neck and arm and I was amazed I hadn’t noticed it before. Then the pain faded and I was looking again at the helicopter, but from a different angle. Most of the men with the rifles lay dead and those who weren’t dead were dying. Only two figures remained in the scene . . . me and the woman Ahmad had called Tuli.

She smiled and her voice was the sultry sound of a Bond girl, all smooth and sexy with evil undertones.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Rimush. I’d heard that you turned against your father’s goals.” I’d never heard the name before, and couldn’t really figure who I was supposed to be.

But then I figured it out, only because of the voice. A moment of panic flashed through me before I recovered enough to say with disdain laced through the words, “Not as surprised as I am to see you, Tuli. Especially since I was told there was no one left here with any sort of leadership ability to continue his plan.”

The frown was sudden and burned metal joined the taste of bitter shame on the air. “We have progressed . . . even though our lord has not seen fit to visit of late.”

Should I feel, or at least show, sorrow? No. Better to let her see the truth. I let the satisfied smile part my lips. “He has not visited because I killed him in combat. Did Nasil not consider you important enough to tell that my old debt is finally repaid with his blood?”

Tuli reached out to grasp the edge of the helicopter. She tried to make it look like a casual gesture, but her scent betrayed her as both surprised and frightened. She stared warily and flicked out the pink tip of her tongue before she spat the words, “You lie! You haven’t the strength to have killed Sargon.”

One brow raised like rehearsed so many times and I settled my stance into casual indifference. “Haven’t I? Are you so unable to taste truth after living among my father’s minions for this many years that you cannot trust your tongue?”

A pause then. It was necessary to let her think, consider the implications. Would she be more concerned about Sargon’s plan, or her own welfare? Or, it might be amusing if her first thought was something else entirely.

“If you speak true, then that would mean—”

Yes, let her see the small smirk . . . and try to interpret what it might mean. If she was close to the plan, she could be useful. More flicks of that so-pink tongue to try to read me. I’d forgotten that tongue, and that dark hair, longer now than I remembered. But I’ve spent far too many years becoming unreadable to give her anything to ease her discomfort.

Now her pupils narrowed and an intoxicating mix of worry, anger, and fear flowed through my flared nostrils to paint the back of my throat. But hidden among the other scents was something I hadn’t tasted in centuries—and had certainly never expected to taste again from her.

“So. You are here to claim right of succession.”

No movement. No expression. Her only answer was direct eye contact and a wave of power toward her .

. . enough to throw her off balance but not sting. Both were critical while I struggled to find meaning in a term I hadn’t heard since childhood. I was the youngest, so it was never expected I would gain the throne of Akede unless by assassination or happenstance. In fact, since my father had gained the throne by conquest, it would be only Tuli’s clan—the Hurrians—who might have created meaning in the term.

“Well? Do I hold so little of your interest that I am not to even be told if you plan to own my key?”

Ah. I remembered now. Why was I not surprised my father held fast to the reins of such an outdated notion like slavery until his dying breath? How many wounds did Tuli bear since last I saw her? How many healed bites, how many burns and lash marks to keep her from rebelling? No, I had little use for slaves. They were unreliable at best, and a danger, at worst. Yet, if I hoped to unravel the plan he’d begun down here, this might be my easiest road. “How many keys was he in possession of?”

The question came out too matter of fact from the flinch and stiff, barely polite answer. “There are only a dozen left, plus those who are paid to serve. Is that sufficient for you to bother with us, or are we to be cast to the winds?”

The pain in her eyes took me far into the past—when we were barely more than children, and my mother threatened to have Tuli returned to the Hurrian king as an inadequate treaty gift for serving a meal that was nearly burnt. There was no worse insult to the gifting royals, who would immediately kill her and her family for the shame they had brought.

But so many years had passed now. There was no family to return to if I threw off her chains. No country, no king.

I stepped closer to her, until we were only inches apart. The taste of her power was still as intoxicating as it was a dozen centuries ago. “Would I have risked my mother’s anger by teaching you to cook properly if I planned to cast you off now?” There was no escaping the logic, and the blush that came to her face said she also remembered the other, more pleasurable, things I taught her in those sultry nights in the kitchen.

“We swore we would never speak of those few stolen moments.”

The smile came to my face unbidden as I glanced around at the still ground. “We swore we would never speak of it to another living soul . . . and I see none.”

She tried hard not to smirk. No doubt she knew, and possibly liked, some of the soldiers. I wondered if any were her lovers. “You inherited your father’s talent for death.”

My father. Would he dog my every step until my final day? The sudden clenching of my fists and hiss that was pulled out of my throat at the memory of Sargon’s last few moments was enough to make her step back a pace. “I ripped the talent from his worthless hide. He made one too many mistakes, and he paid as dearly, and as painfully, as I could make him.”

The vengeance finally swam up into her eyes like a fish breaking the water’s surface. The nod of her head was tight and the smile as filled with darkness as the blackest depth of my anger. “Whatever you gave, he deserved more.”

He did, so there was no reason to reply. But it wouldn’t be long before the searching guards returned, so we needed to leave. I didn’t hold much hope that the bird and the wolf could remove an army. And, it might be that the raptors would have to find another leader to sit at the council table. But none of that mattered now. For now, all that was important was to find out what my father was planning. As much as I hated him, there was no denying his intelligence and strength of will. That even the greatest Sazi minds and seers couldn’t unearth his project spoke of something so diabolical that few in the entire world would survive it.

And since my father’s right hand, Nasil, still lived, the plan was likely proceeding. It was quite possible Nasil was Sargon’s primary planner—helping find the flaws before others discovered them. He must either die, or be made to believe that I’m in concert with him until I can sabotage the scheme.

“You seem lost in thought, my lord.”

Hearing that term brought me back to my senses. I didn’t like it then, and find I still don’t care to be anyone’s lord. Yet, without that distance, I might not be able to bring the charade to fruition. No, as much as I hated it, Prince Rimush must return for a time.

Without any warning, I grabbed that long hair and yanked her tight against me. She gasped in fear, but her scent was filled with more than that. It tasted both sweet and hot on my lips. I leaned down briefly and hissed in her ear. “Never interrupt me when I’m thinking, Tuli. You’ll find me much more civil if you hold your tongue until spoken to.”

Apparently, Sargon had let loose the reins on her much more than I’d expected, because the way her head whipped back and the anger that came into her eyes said she wasn’t accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner anymore.

I found I liked the look on her. Proud, confident.

Her own stinging magic fought against mine, and even though I’d been forced to share the power I’d gained from my father with Antoine Monier, the leader of the cats, the magic at my command was formidable enough to cow her. The longer I held her gaze and let the dark power rise into the hand that held her to sting her skin, the less confident she got. After a few long moments, she flicked her gaze down to my collar and unclenched her fists, with effort. “As you wish, my lord.”

I released her hair and smoothed it gently, then ran a slow finger down her jawline until she shivered. I always enjoyed watching her shiver from my touch. There were few women in the world who could make me feel true desire—rather than simple lust, but Tuli was one of them. She met my eyes again with confusion as she caught the scent, which is exactly where I wanted to keep her for a time. “I’m not my father, Tuli, even though I can be if required. But neither am I the Rimush you remember. I am Ahmad al-Narmer, and I rule all the snakes in the world, including the ones who formerly answered to my father. Those who accept my rule will be treated fairly. Those who challenge me—” I looked around again at the bodies of snakes that covered the ground. “Will meet the fate of those you see.”

The anger was back again, and I let it pass this time. “But you helped the prisoners escape and allowed the bird and wolf to kill those you are supposed to protect. Why should we follow a traitor to the cause?”

“The cause, my dear Tuli, wasn’t to bring down the wrath of the Sazi council on our heads before the final event. The plan was to remain unnoticed until it was too late.” That part was easy to fake knowledge of. It was always my father’s plan to remain unnoticed for as long as possible. I forced my own anger to rise, because if I really had favored my father’s plan for conquest of the earth, I would be furious at the ineptitude shown here. “Of course I helped them. I’m not an idiot like whoever planned this kidnapping. Did you even realize you held the raptor councilwoman as prisoner? Do you know they are organizing for war against you at this very moment? Why do you think I’ve been under cover as a councilman for this long, except to keep them lulled into complacency? This debacle has ruined decades of my efforts!”

Plans within plans. Another thing my father was known for, and it certainly wouldn’t be out of character for him to have thrust me into a seat as a spy for centuries and pretend that I was an enemy until needed. Time had little meaning to him. I find it more precious, but Tuli didn’t need to know that.

Now the confusion was in her voice, blended with the horror that I hoped to hear. “A council member?

War? But why would Nasil—?”

Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. Taking Angelique was Nasil’s plan. For what purpose, though? He didn’t take actions lightly. I let disgust rise into my voice and walked away, stepping over a dead body with the same distaste my father would exhibit. I was expecting she would follow, and she did. “Tell me more of Nasil’s plan. Since he witnessed my father’s death in Germany, his goals are his own and may or may not include the result my father and I expected.”

I flicked my gaze toward her to see suspicion of my father’s trusted aide rising into her face. Good. Exactly as planned.

Searing pain erupted in my neck and shoulder. Reality lost meaning and there were suddenly both jungle and cave in my view. Dark and light blended and blurred. Too many faces and too many legs peering through a fog at me now, and I couldn’t seem to move. Fear wasn’t something I’d experienced much, but I felt it now.

Suddenly I was looking down on me again, as though from outside. Will was swearing and slamming palms down on my chest, which was bouncing enough to spray rocks out from under my back. My ribs hurt now, and they hurt a lot, so more than one must be broken. How long had he been doing CPR on me? At least my neck didn’t hurt as much so whatever Ahmad had done did the trick. I wasn’t surprised he wouldn’t deign to touch me to start my heart again, though.

Will bent down to push air into my lungs, but he’s not my type. I threw up a hand to fend off his face.

“No . . . thanks.” I coughed up something that tasted a lot like blood. “My wife . . . wouldn’t approve.”

He collapsed backward onto his butt with a relieved sound. I noticed that the two women were watching the scene from the wall. The tiger, Rayna, was looking exhausted. Angelique was looking . . . confused. But I didn’t see Ahmad. Still, I didn’t hear any gunfire either, so he must be outside finishing off the rest of the soldiers.

I was starting to feel a lot better now and could almost move enough to sit up. It hurt to breathe deep, but it was nothing a little athletic tape and a couple of days’ rest wouldn’t cure. “Tell Ahmad to wear gloves next time he feeds me magic. I’m getting to where I really hate flashbacks . . . especially from snakes. The tongue flicky-tasty thing is just creepy.”

Will furrowed his brows and shook his head. “What are you talking about? Ahmad hasn’t gotten here yet. Rayna’s the one who fed me magic while I healed you, so you should thank the nice tiger that you’re alive. In fact, we should all thank the nice tiger we’re alive, since she’s also an awesome shot with a sniper rifle.”

Rayna? I stared at her closely and she didn’t resemble Tuli in the slightest. It was too detailed for imagination and didn’t feel like a dream. No, it was definitely Ahmad’s head I was in, which meant—

“Someone needs to get back to the helicopter then. Ahmad got attacked and I was there for the ride. Don’t know how exactly, but I’ve learned not to ignore the seer thing.” I nodded toward Rayna. “Oh . . . and thanks. If it helps any, I feel worse than you look.”

It pulled a chuckle from her. “It does help a little bit, actually. My ego, at least.”

Will was obviously puzzled. “You get hindsight, so without touching him, you shouldn’t have a clue what might have happened to him. How do you know?”

The Jeep honking outside the cave interrupted any answer I might have given . . . if I had any idea how to respond.

The only thing I knew for certain was that Ahmad was toast if we didn’t get to him in time.

Chapter Four

“SO, STILL NO sign of him, huh?”

Will was flat on a couch in the Sazi clinic waiting room in Boulder, Colorado, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Bobby was checking his vital signs, looking more like an M.D. than the chemist he was. His nearly blue-black skin was an interesting contrast to Will’s nutty red. The regular rooms were already full of doctors treating the women . . . Sue included. Asking questions was the only thing keeping me out of the exam room. I’d already had my ass kicked out twice by the healers.