Dawn of a Dark Knight (12 page)

Damn the gods for this shit,
thought Ashor, keeping quiet
.

Eric accused, “You knew about the mark, didn’t you? It’s why you asked us to find her.” His face mottled red.

“I thought I might’ve seen something when she helped me out of the Hashishin compound years ago.” In response to Eric’s instantaneous condemning look he explained, “I was so brain-fried back then that I assumed I’d hallucinated it. She was…well, she was quite young.” Ashor carefully kept his face blank. He glanced to V who had an uncharacteristic stoic expression. Usually, V could be counted on for fireworks.

Eric said, “Didn’t it cross your mind to mention this at some point over the past decade? When I think of all the times some daemon tore one of us up and we dealt without a healer and she was out there…I can’t even go there.”

V said, “She seemed in a hurry to leave. You get a chance to discuss being the
akhrian
?”

“No.”

V direct-eyed Ashor. “A woman
akhrian
? Ever heard of that?”

“No.” The need for their healer was desperate, and under any other circumstance, he’d be fine with a woman. But not this woman. Not Kira. She was his.

The red of Eric’s cheeks cranked up. He snapped and rushed Ashor. Gracefully, Ashor dodged the fist headed for his nose and rolled, coming up with Eric in a headlock. The two fell onto the nightstand. The antique, Art Nouveau lamp hit the floor in an eardrum-shattering crash. Eric thrashed and alligator rolled for several seconds, finding no success in breaking Ashor’s hold. Eventually, he stopped.

“You cool?” Ashor asked.

Eric gritted out, “Not really. Why the fuck did you keep this a secret?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure she was the one ’til now.”

The tension left Eric’s body. “Get your naked ass off me.”

Ashor released. He rose and opened his dresser, selecting a pair of black workout pants to pull on.

“Tell me about Baltimore.” His tone was a command that suggested a reply was not optional. Arms crossed he leaned against the dresser, waiting.

“Navid and I were ambushed. Once we took out that daemon, Hashishins were coming at us from everywhere. You wouldn’t believe the snakes funneling into the place. Big fuckers. They tried to take us again at the hospital.” Eric paused. He covered his face with his hands. His voice cracked as he said, “Navid’s dead.”

“Aw, hell. I know you guys were close. He was a good fighter…a good friend. Goddamn it. Such bad timing.” Now down to seven. That explained some of Eric’s fury—displacement.

“Such a waste.” Eric threw himself into the overstuffed chair by the bed. His large frame dwarfed the chair.

“You ended up in a hospital?” Ashor prompted softly.

“Yeah, we were both beat to shit. We barely got out of the church before we passed out. A good Sammy must’ve called it in. I was pretty out of it at the hospital until she appeared.” Eric cleared his throat and added quietly, “If Dr. Hardy hadn’t showed up, I wouldn’t be here. In fact, I don’t even know how or why she appeared. I’m just glad she did. I mean with Julie pregnant, if I died…we’d lose her and the baby. She told me she couldn’t stay in it just for the baby.” His face reflected stark terror before he hid it. He described events that took place after that.

“You lose your blades? Yours and his?” Ashor asked.

“Yeah. Real pisser that. Took me twenty years to get that thing just the way I liked.”

“Then shouldn’t take long to make another. Accidents like this are why all of us train hard to learn sword-crafting.”

V said, “We’ve got to find the asshole that’s been summoning over the past few months. We just can’t take any more losses. You like to take out Hashishins, Ashor. Why not put the bastard at the top of your hit list? The daemons are just appearing too fast. There’s not enough time to heal without an
akhrian.
With our numbers so low, we should get that girl back here and have her fill in until we find the right guy, unless she’s the one.”

“You’ll leave her alone. She’s done a lot for us in the past twenty-four hours without asking for anything in return. Understand me, V?”

“Yeah, gotcha, sir.”

“We’ll do what we’ve always done and send the daemon shits back to their world,” said Ashor.

V looked grave. “The
kem-seki
stain has almost completely clouded your eyes now, sir.”

Ashor sighed. “That was a lot of up close and personal time with that daemon, but I’m not gone yet. When I Turn find Javen. He consented to execute me.”

V nodded, but glowered.

An evil sensation shimmered through Ashor’s mind, one he recognized all to well. He held up his hand to command silence. Closing his eyes, he followed the cold, slippery sensation to its source, waiting for the moment he could get a fix on its location.

“Another daemon?” V asked wearily.

Ashor nodded. “It’s in North America. Think it’s Egyptian. Maybe in a cathedral.”

Eric grumbled, “I hate busting up cathedrals. It’d be nice if they chose a modern megachurch for a change. Why they prefer religious arenas is beyond me. Probably some sort of twisted irony.”

Ashor opened his eyes. “V, you sit this one out. You got your head wacked pretty hard in St. Louis. You can do viper patrol with Eric. Yeah, Eric, after your recent brush with death you’ll stay here. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of another Julie screaming fit. I get a headache just remembering the last time you almost died. I’ll take Ethan and Christian. We’ve got to find this summoning maniac and waste his ass, if for nothing other than to get a holiday.”

Ashor concentrated on the slippery evil of the daemon. “V, go ask Javen to prepare the plane. Have him phone cathedrals in the New York City area.”

V pushed off the wall and left.

Eric took a proffered bottle of water from the fifty-something ex-priest butler-caretaker when he mysteriously appeared in the room.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“Need anything right now?” Rick asked Ashor in his brisk New Jersey brogue.

Ashor shook his head.

“Breakfast at eight.” Rick rolled his watch. “You should have time before you go.” He departed as quietly as he appeared. Classic Rick. The guy always materialized at exactly the right moment and had an uncanny grip on their goings and comings. He’d been with them and unquestionably loyal for at least two decades after the
akhrian
revived him from a near-fatal daemon attack. The guy had probably seen more weird crap than he would ever admit. None questioned his job security since the man could make a kickass cup of coffee.

Eric asked, “Telepathy? You know what that means. She’s
the one
for you.”

Ashor ran his hand through his hair to pull its length away from his face.

“Just because you’re the only one to find your
senariai
doesn’t make you the authority for all of us, Eric. Perhaps, a connection was made between us when she healed me all those years ago.”

“She healed me too and I could never do that with her. She’s it. You just need to get laid and all your control issues will disappear. You have any idea how can she be both?”

“She can’t. Makes no sense given what the ancient text says. I’ve got it on good authority she’s the
akhrian.
Therefore, she cannot be the one for me. Besides, I’m too near the Turn for her to help me, even if she were my
senariai.
”

Eric frowned. “We can’t pull you from active status, because we just voted Javen off. He seemed obviously closer to the edge than you and less in control. And now with Navid gone…We need recruits. That means we need the
akhrian
to find them for us. And we need to find the amulet. This is a clusterfuck.”

“It’ll pan out.”

“Why’d you ask her to help, if you’re ready to move on to the next life? You could’ve let go. We’d have executed you when the daemon took over.”

“That’s reassuring. Maybe I wasn’t quite done here.”

“Right.” Eric fell silent. Quietly he said, “The pull to her is tough to deny, isn’t it? So, how would you feel if you found out your little hottie has a boyfriend?”

Ashor had Eric locked against the wall by his throat within a second. The
kem-seki
spiraled, excited by the red haze of fury elicited by the images of Kira giving herself to another.

“Give me the fucker’s name,” Ashor growled.

Eric pulled at Ashor’s hand until he released his throat. He emitted an
I-told-you-so
laugh. “Deny it all you want, man. That girl’s got you by the balls.”

“Shit,”Ashor mumbled to himself.

“How’d you find out you could chat with her?” He briefly touched his forehead.

Ashor shrugged. More to convince himself than Eric he said, “She can’t be my
senariai
. Doesn’t make sense. A magus cannot be spiritually connected with the
akhrian.
The gods expressly forbid it, at least I think I remember something like that in the ancient text. It would pose a basic conflict of interest. How would you react if Julie had to touch all of us frequently? And on top of that she had to share her energy with other men? With us?”

Eric’s brows drew in hard. “Not a good scene. You have no idea what crazy is until you complete the bond with her. With you already having control issues being so close to the Turn…Well, let’s just say that’s a scenario with disaster written in bold lettering.”

Ashor sighed. “I’ll consult the text
to see if it’s got anything about this
.
I don’t recall anything about a woman as the healer. All I recall is that it specifically said:
Protect the
akhrian
unto death. Intimacy with the akhrian is forbidden
. ”

“That sounds bad. For you, that is. I suppose whoever wrote the text felt it needed to be clear, even though the healer has always been a guy until now. I mean, we all know Navid punted for the other team, and I guess you never can tell with Christian. Seems like he’d screw anything moderately attractive. But I think she should’ve stayed. They’ll find out she helped me at the hospital.”

“You’re right. Take Nate with you to Baltimore. Find Kira and protect her.”

Chapter Ten

“Kira Hardy. That’s the doctor’s name. At this point, she’s long gone from the hospital,” Theo said. “She did something to that magus. On the security recording, she sat by him for maybe a minute at most. The guy just woke up and walked out. She didn’t do anything like a normal doctor. Just touched him.”

“Kira Hardy.” Terek turned the name in his mind with a nagging sense of familiarity. The girl just might be the magi’s healer.

“The picture was shitty quality, sir, and there was no sound. I’m pretty sure that magus didn’t know her. Looked like he planned to kill her when he first woke up.”

“What else did you find out about the woman?”

“Staff thinks highly of her. She hasn’t done anything unusual that anyone here detected. Get this, though. She was a med student in New York City. Remember that miracle incident I investigated a few years ago? It was up there. I bet it was her.”

“Maybe the magi were unaware of her existence. You need to work fast. If she’s still there and that magus didn’t take her, bring her here.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll search her apartment today. When I know more, I’ll phone.”

“Don’t play with her, Theo. Just bring her to me.” Terek slammed the phone into its cradle on his desk.

What was it about that name that made it so familiar?
Kira Hardy
. Standing perfectly still, Terek stopped breathing and slowed his heart. This allowed his mind to open and shuffle through millennia of memory.

Ah yes, the daughter
. He recalled the girl’s unusual pale eyes filled with abhorrence and righteous judgment. He had made a mistake to dismiss that wisp of a child. How he despised being wrong.

She must have been more involved in the magus escape incident than he’d thought. Impotent rage shuddered through his chest. He pulled at his desk drawer, seeking a fix.
Shit
. He was out of prepared syringes. He needed to kill. He needed to smell the sweet stench of human blood…to taste it.

He yanked open the second drawer and grabbed at the bottle of injectable medication. His hands trembled so much he could barely insert the needle into the top. The stuff was thick as sludge and very slow to fill the syringe.

A visiting Syrian had the misfortune to enter his office at that moment. Terek dropped the syringe and smiled. His hand transformed into that of a daemon. With the razor-sharp talons, he raked the human from face to mid-chest. He stepped back to survey his work with satisfaction. The scent of fear and blood permeated his nostrils. Pleasure tremors rippled through his muscles.

A wail sprang from the man’s lacerated lips, sputtering blood. His terror ramped up Terek’s need for violent death. He planned to enjoy the human’s slow spiral toward the land of Osiris. Yet the stupid human’s mews irritated. Terek sliced a nail across the man’s neck to stop the annoying noise. Ecstasy whipped through him when death gripped the man. He needed more…kill, kill, kill.

He grasped the syringe that had fallen to the floor in his non-transformed hand and plunged it into his stomach. Seconds later he fell into a tranquil, lethargic daze.

He hit the page button on his telephone. In a slurred voice, he said, “Mr. Kiersted, there’s been an accident. We need a cleaner.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have one here within the hour. Are you injured?”

“No.”

Terek surveyed the bloody mess on his floor with apathy. The office swirled around him, coming in and out of focus.

He’d had fun with that magus years ago. But someone had stolen his grand finale. The death blow. That could’ve been a magnificent summoning. The only way that bastard managed escape must have involved either a healer or someone strong enough to carry him. He could not have walked as pathetic as he’d been by that point. And the magi healer was dead. He’d personally decapitated the useless man after discovering he didn’t have the amulet. Logically, a new healer would be appointed, but so soon after the other’s death? Unlikely. Perhaps, there had always been another healer. The real healer. The one with the amulet.