Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set (25 page)

Because, Isis thought, no half-blood in the Citadels had ever been given the chance. But Ba'al was far from stupid. He
could
refuse, but it would paint him a coward in the eyes of the few allies he might actually need...the four of the Nine below him on the dais. He noticed when Hera and Ereshkigal shifted and exchanged glances, waiting for his answer.

He had to believe that he had every advantage, Isis thought. Challenges were fought hand to hand, body to body and teeth to teeth. Daniel was lacking one essential weapon.

Daniel looked at Isis and smiled with warmth and encouragement—he exchanged glances with his father and then walked between the genuflecting humans to stand at the foot of the dais.

“I challenge you, Ba'al,” he said formally, “by the ancient traditions of the Opiri. If you refuse or I defeat you, you will surrender your property and be expelled from this Citadel.”

“What?” Ba'al asked, nearly spitting the word. “You would not
kill
me?”

“Only if I must.”

At this moment, Isis thought, Ba'al appeared less enraged than genuinely confounded. But as Daniel stared at him, he began to smile.

“By all means,” he said, removing the jewelry from his arms and around his neck. “Since I am challenged, I choose the time. It will be now.”

Ba'al descended from the throne and disappeared through a door in the wall behind it. His guards followed close on his heels.

“Boy,” Ares said to Daniel, his voice unsteady, “you're a fool.”

Trinity stared from her mate to Daniel with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“It's done,” Daniel said.

Ares met Isis's gaze. He
knew
how she felt. He knew because he couldn't bear to lose the woman on the dais.

But he wouldn't try to stop Daniel, and neither would Isis. They wouldn't dishonor him by taking his choices away from him. They wouldn't steal what remained of his pride.

The humans kneeling on the floor looked up with bewildered faces as Daniel returned to Isis. He reached for her hand, noticed the streaks of blood on his skin, and dropped his arm.

She grabbed his hand as it fell to his side. “You will not escape me so easily, Daniel,” she said. “Ba'al still does not realize that he cannot control you with his influence.”

“I know.” He gazed into her eyes, blinked and looked again.

“You're crying,” he breathed. He brushed his thumb across her cheek and caught an errant tear. “That's impossible.”

“It isn't so for the Elders,” she said, glancing away. “It makes us different from other Opiri, like our skin and hair.”

“God.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her cheeks, one and then the other. “Don't weep for me, Isis.”

“Because you are not worth it?” She pressed his hand against her chest, just over her heart. “You say I am not a fighter, but if Ba'al harms you—”

“You'll run the instant he pulls me down,” he said. “You'll find allies. You'll survive to take Tanis back.”

“Perhaps I do not wish to survive without you.”

“But you will.” He kissed her very lightly on the lips, as if he feared he would soil her. “Knowing that will give me strength.”

“You will not lose,” she said fiercely. “I have faith in you.”

They fell silent as a human servant approached with a clean tunic and pants. Surprised by the gesture, Isis helped Daniel find a place where he could change. The closest they could get to privacy was in a darker corner of the room.

Daniel began to remove his torn and bloodied clothing. The ragged shirt stuck to his skin when he tried to pull it off, and there was hardly an inch of his body that hadn't been injured. The marks of Hannibal's whip had barely stopped bleeding.

“It doesn't matter,” he said, noticing her stare.

Isis clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms. The anger was there. Oh, yes. And it was powerful, this searing rage, this desire for revenge.

In Egypt, Sekhmet the lioness had been a deity of war and vengeance. If Isis gave way to this anger, she would become exactly like the goddess whose mask she had worn at the Festival.

But Sekhmet was also a goddess of healing. “You know that I can help with your wounds,” she said to Daniel, keeping her voice level and calm.

Working his left shoulder, Daniel couldn't quite hide a wince of pain. Isis didn't wait for his permission. She locked her arms around his waist and bit him through the scar tissue and the more recent bites, releasing the healing chemicals into his veins. He jerked free after a few moments, holding her away from him.

Then he lifted her head and kissed her—hungrily, desperately, with a sense of finality that chilled Isis to the bone.

CHAPTER 26

T
he rising hum of voices drove them apart. Isis tried to hold Daniel, gripping his hand as if she could keep him from the inevitable. But he only kissed her forehead and eyelids with great tenderness, worked his hand free of hers and walked out into the room.

Ba'al had returned to the foot of the dais. He wore only a kilt and padded gracefully on bare feet. Isis knew that he was a true predator, more than Anu had ever been, and he clearly intended to fight like one.

But Daniel was also prepared. He moved with surprising agility in spite of his wounds, his head slightly down, his face expressionless. Isis walked beside him to the dais, holding her anger in check. If the worst happened, she would need the element of surprise, the chance to reveal the full force of her nature when it would be most effective.

The room seemed to have one heartbeat now, both the humans' and Opiri's pulses falling into a single, terrible rhythm. Ares lightly rested his hand on Daniel's shoulder, careful not to put pressure on his wounds, and clasped the back of Daniel's head in a gesture of deep affection. Then he stepped away, and so did Isis.

Ares's soldiers formed a loose circle in the center of the room, creating a living arena. Ba'al and Daniel faced each other in the center. Half-crouched, Ba'al's fingers curled into claws. He bared his teeth to expose his cuspids.

Daniel had none to display, but he flashed Ba'al a mocking grin. It was enough to provoke the god into attack.

Isis's gaze remained fixed on Daniel: each feint, each retreat, each time he scarcely avoided the bite that could take his life. She watched him seem to weaken, and then suddenly find enough strength to force Ba'al back; his kicks and punches were almost too fast for the eye to detect, even though Ba'al retained the advantage of natural weapons Daniel didn't possess.

But if Ba'al tried to use his influence to slow Daniel or daze him, the effort failed. Each time his teeth snapped close to Daniel's neck, Daniel dodged and counterattacked. Red stained his shirt where his deepest wounds broke open with his exertion, but he paid no attention to blood or pain.

It soon became clear that Ba'al would not attain victory as easily as he had expected. With every minute, his frustration became more apparent, his attacks less measured. Daniel maintained a detached sense of calm, as if he had no stake in whether he lived or died.

Perhaps he doesn't
, Isis thought in panic, remembering Daniel's kiss. Perhaps part of him would be relieved to lose all the pain, the humiliation, the shame of being treated no better than a caged animal.

But he was no coward to surrender to his own fears. When Ba'al raked his shoulder with his fangs, Daniel fell with the attack, rolled and catapulted Ba'al over his shoulders.

Ba'al scrambled to his feet with a roar of rage and charged Daniel, muscles rippling under glossy skin. He barreled headfirst into Daniel's stomach, carrying Daniel several yards before forcing him to the ground.

It was all Isis could do not to leap into the fray. But to do so would forfeit the fight to Ba'al. She held her breath and bit her lip and mourned in her heart when Daniel failed to rise, lying still as Ba'al pummeled him with fists and raking fingers. Then he swooped down like a hunting hawk and sank his teeth into Daniel's neck, not to take blood but to rip out Daniel's throat.

In a moment Daniel would be dead.

But then something remarkable happened. Daniel's arms shot up, his hands catching Ba'al around the throat and squeezing hard. Ba'al reared back, eyes wide in surprise, but Daniel continued to bear down on the god's throat with greater and greater force. Ba'al began to wheeze, his hands battering at Daniel wildly, his fingers digging into Daniel's wounds, his feet scrabbling on the tiles.

An instant later their positions were reversed, and Daniel was knocking Ba'al's head against the floor, muscles straining. Isis knew he was no longer himself, but truly the son of the god of war, expert in the art of death.

Ba'al's struggles began to weaken. He gasped and flailed; two of his guards began to descend from the dais, but a trio of Ares's soldiers surged forward to hold them back. Daniel positioned himself to snap Ba'al's neck.

Isis almost cried out. Ba'al could not remain alive; the threat he posed was too great. But she didn't want his blood on Daniel's hands.

Too late, she moved to intervene. Ba'al's body jerked once and went still. Daniel straightened, his hands still around Ba'al's neck, and drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

As Daniel got up, one of the priests knelt beside Ba'al's body and touched his neck. He let out a wailing cry, and the other priests took it up.

No one spoke, but Isis was aware of movement throughout the throne room, courtiers and humans stirring as if they had just wakened from a dream. Ares practically leaped up on the dais. Daniel took an uneven step toward Isis and then suddenly stopped, his breath ragged. He stared at her for a moment and then looked down at Ba'al's body. Four priests were already lifting it in their arms, chanting in an ancient tongue as they ascended the dais again.

“Is he dead?” Daniel asked hoarsely, stepping back.

“You don't remember?”

“No.”

Isis tried to take his hand, but he flinched and tried to pull his newly torn shirt up over his shoulders.

“You did what you had to do,” she said, feeling that he was slipping away from her.

He met her gaze briefly and then looked over the astonished audience. Ares's soldiers had disarmed Ba'al's guards. Ereshkigal had fled; Bes and Hera stared almost fearfully at Daniel and Isis. Isis could understand their wariness of Daniel; he seemed to have grown in victory, sweeping his gaze around the room as if he owned it.

The humans were in disarray, some on their feet, others still kneeling, shaking their heads and murmuring in shock. Ares and Trinity were embracing with all the passion and relief of long-separated lovers.

“Ba'al's influence is broken,” Isis said. She raised her voice. “Are there any others who would challenge the victor?”

Bes was the one who answered. He approached Isis and Daniel with wary meekness, as if he expected to be torn apart himself.

“You have defeated Ba'al,” he said. “We did not believe it was possible.”

“That is clear,” Isis said.

“I am sorry,” Bes said, bowing his head. “I was afraid when he killed Anu and Ishtar.”

“Ishtar is dead?”

“Among other courtiers who would not bow to him.” He lifted his head. “Now all must bow to you, Daniel.”

“There will be no need for bowing if you do what I tell you,” Daniel said.

“What do you wish us to do?”

“Hermes,” Daniel said.

The red-haired Opir was not nearly as resigned as Bes. His movements were sharp, almost defiant as he came to Daniel. Isis could barely stand to look at him.

“The Lawkeepers are your responsibility,” Daniel said coldly. “You've used them against the interests of this city, especially its human citizens.”

“Hanni—Ba'al threatened me,” Hermes said, “just as Anu threatened Ares. He promised to kill all the half-bloods if I did not do as he commanded.”

“They won't be taken into custody if you do what I say,” Daniel said. “Find them wherever they are and restrain them. No human in the city will trust them now. Keep them out of the way.”

“Yes,” Hermes said. He darted off. Daniel beckoned to the soldiers who had come with him to Ba'al's suite and disarmed the guards. Ares's troops gathered around Daniel expectantly.

“We must move quickly to get things under control, or there will be further chaos,” Daniel said. “The humans in this room can leave. Hold the guards, the Opiri and Hera until I or Ares give you further orders. Some of you go look for the priests who took Ba'al, and recover his body.” He glanced at Ares and Trinity as they descended the dais, Trinity free of her chains but still wearing her collar. “Ares,” he said, “send orders to secure the towers and tell your soldiers to free any serfs and arrest the Opiri who've been keeping them. Tomorrow morning, I want every citizen of Tanis we can find gathered at the main plaza.”

“Many will be in hiding,” Ares said, deferring to Daniel without resentment. “There will be resistance from the humans, who will have no reason to trust my Freebloods.”

“Then we get as many as we can persuade to come without using force. Our prisoners, of course, will have no choice.”

“The Nine still have the power of their influence,” Isis said.

“Then some may escape. I don't plan to hunt them down. Their time of power is over.”

“What will you do with the prisoners?” Isis asked, touching his arm.

He looked at her through shuttered eyes. He was a leader now, focused on the many things that must be done to bring Tanis under the rule of law again. He would bring peace, though he could have set himself up as absolute ruler of Tanis without facing objection from anyone in the room.

“That will be for the people to decide,” Daniel said distantly. “Tanis as they knew it has fallen. The human citizens and the Opiri who helped and supported them have a decision to make.”

Isis's chest tightened. Along with the gratitude she felt that Daniel had won without suffering a major injury, she was almost frightened by his ruthlessness. If he left the fates of the prisoners to the humans, they might face worse than exile.

And do they not deserve it?
she asked herself. Would she not choose the same fate for them?

But what of the Opiri who had not kept serfs but had declined to stand against Anu or Ba'al? They could not entirely be blamed; they would have become victims themselves if Ares had been driven to give the order to kill them.

Could any of them ever be trusted again?

There must be a way. There
must
be.

“I will need your help, Isis,” Daniel said, seemingly unaware of her distress. “You can walk among the people and try to persuade them to accept that the violence is over. The Opiri behind the troubles are dead.”

“Perhaps they will not listen to me.”

“Find Hugh. He'll help you spread the word.”

So Daniel was sending her away. To do important work, yes, but he had moved so far from her that she felt as if they existed on different planes.

He had changed after he had been taken and tortured. Now he had changed again.

It didn't matter. She had to reach him before he moved beyond her grasp.

“You said that Tanis, as the people know it, has fallen,” she said, demanding his attention. “You said they have a decision to make. But you have
saved
Tanis, Daniel. Because of your faith and courage, it has not been destroyed.”

“Not my faith,” he said, still very far away. “And it hasn't been saved. Its end has only been delayed.”

“And what if the people decide differently?”

“Tanis would never have succeeded,” Daniel said. “Ares and I have the answer to the question we came here to find. All we can do now is protect the innocent and give them the means to seek their own way in the world.”

“Their own way?” Isis asked. “Returning to the dangers they faced when they were the prey of any rogue Freeblood or Citadel patrol in search of serfs?”

Daniel shook his head. “I'm sorry, Isis. The dream you nurtured is gone.”

Stunned by his dismissal, Isis retreated until she found herself outside in the elevator lobby, surrounded on all sides by bewildered humans and Opiri attempting to flee. Even as she watched, Ares's soldiers seized the courtiers and dragged them back into the suite. She pushed her way past them toward the door to the stairs.

Ares caught up with her just as she reached the stairwell.

“Isis,” he said, grasping her arm. “You can't leave him now.”

She jerked her arm free. “He does not need me,” she said. “He needs your army to complete his conquest.”

“Conquest?” Ares said with a harsh laugh. “And you pretend to know him?”

“He has already determined that Tanis is dead,” she said.

“Isn't it?”

“What do you care for this city or the people here now that you have your mate again?”

“I'll assist Daniel in any way I can.” His stare was unforgiving. “Do you realize what he suffered here while you and I were unable to help him? How he was forced to relive the life he endured in Erebus, before I found him? How much pain and humiliation must a man endure before he strikes back?”

“I have not given up,” she said, “even if
he
has.”

“Does he love you?”

She turned her head away. “If he ever did, it is gone now.”

Ares's lip curled, but she didn't wait to hear his response. She flung herself into the stairwell and descended, breathless, to the ground floor. Freeblood soldiers ran this way and that along the causeway, and she could see figures milling about the bases of the two nearest towers and along the central avenue.

Isis descended the ramp, sank down against the wall—out of sight of most passersby—and looked at her hands. They were stained with Daniel's blood. The blood he had given to stop Ba'al, the blood of punishment he had endured for her sake.

How much pain and humiliation must a man endure before he strikes back?
How could Daniel see anything but the bad, when he had met so few Opiri who supported the dream upon which she and the Nine had founded Tanis?

The Nine
, she thought. Daniel had seen them betray their own ideals. Athena had worked to help him and Isis, but, in the end, Bes and Hermes had turned their backs on all they claimed to have believed in. The others had either been too afraid to challenge Ba'al, or they had wanted the human serfs he would have allotted to them.

And some of them had surely known of Anu's intentions, as well. They had simply exchanged one tyrant for another.