Shadow Blade (17 page)

“Reckless demeanor?”

“And I believe that if we combine our forces and expertise, we’ll eliminate this Shadowling sooner rather than later.”

She tightened her grip on the fork.

The demigod noticed.
“Kira.”

She forced herself to relax at Nansee’s gentle admonition. “It’s not like it would do permanent damage if I stabbed him with it, Nansee. He’d only be dead for another twenty-four hours or so.” She glared at Khefar.
“Unless I bury him beneath Turner Field.
You do stay dead if no sunlight hits you, right?”

Khefar frowned. “Why
are you wanting
to harm me? My offer makes perfect sense.”

“So now I’m reckless and insensible?”

Anansi sighed. “Khefar, what Kira is trying to tell you—”

“Is that I can speak for myself, think for myself, and act for myself. I am a Shadowchaser.”

“Who works,” Khefar said as he swirled his last bite of pancake in the syrup on his plate, “with the support of a secretive international paramilitary organization with near unlimited resources, not to mention highly trained handlers assigned to each Shadowchaser.” The forkful disappeared into his mouth.

“That’s a mouthful of adjectives.” Blood throbbed between her ears. “So a demigod can’t antagonize me in my own house, but an octogenarian to the nth degree can?”

The Nubian’s lips twisted. “Kira—”

“I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry to work with me anyway,” Kira said. She put her fork down. Her mood had so soured that not even god-made pancakes and syrup could get her back to her sweet and happy place. Not that she knew where that was anymore. “People who work with me have a tendency to end up dead. So I’m not exactly into the whole partnership thing right now.”

Was that regret flashing across his face? “I didn’t handle this well.”

“No, you didn’t.” She pushed to her feet. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to the section chief’s office of that ‘secretive international paramilitary organization with near unlimited resources’ to make a report and a requisition a new phone. You’re going anywhere but there or here.”

“Still no trust?” He didn’t sound surprised.

“To be in my house while I’m not here, especially after the discussion we just had? No. I don’t trust anyone for that and neither does my house. You got your dagger back and that’s all you really wanted, isn’t it?
So come on, everybody out of the pool.”

“I can drive you to the Commission’s headquarters. It’s the least I can do as apology for my rudeness.”

She dragged to a stop. “Say what?”

“Your bike is damaged, remember? How else will you get to Gilead’s offices?”

Damn.
She hadn’t thought of that. She didn’t have time to make the necessary repairs either, even if she’d had the parts. Still, there was no way that she’d introduce Sanchez to the Nubian. Too many questions would follow, and she already had enough paperwork facing her over the seeker demon.

“Actually, I could use a ride.
To the MARTA station.”

His smile froze.
“The what?”

“Our public transit.
I can hop a train to downtown. The section offices are in Midtown. I’ll get there without worrying about traffic or my carbon footprint.”

“All right.
I’ll accompany you.”

Now her smile froze. “No.
Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“How am I supposed to explain you to Gilead?” She pointed to Anansi. “How am I supposed to explain him?”

The demigod smiled beatifically as he bit into a bite of egg and sausage. “The Shadowchaser has a point.”

“Of course she does. She always does.” Khefar turned back to her. “Anansi will be fine left to his own devices, as most gods are. I will come with you on the MARTA, and see you to Gilead’s doors.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why
?’
”

“Why decide to help me and why accompany me to Gilead’s offices? I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears Adept. I’ve been Chasing for a while now. I don’t need a babysitter and yet you insist on playing bodyguard. Why?”

He looked away, and she wondered if he was going to lie to her. If he did, she’d be done with him and the spider god, even if it meant losing out on breakfasts like this.

Finally he looked up at her, his eyes clear with purpose. She realized then that she was still standing while he knelt on the cushion, and it suddenly felt familiar, as if she’d caught a glimpse of something much like this from her time with his dagger. It felt as if it was a scene one of them—or both of them—had played out before.

“Kira Solomon. You did not have to offer your hospitality after the fight with the seeker demon, yet you did. You did not have to return my dagger to me and yet you did. The Avatar who controlled the seeker demon is still out there and no doubt unhappy with the seeker’s destruction. He will come for you and do everything in his power to destroy you. I would return the kindness you have shown me in the only way that I know how, by offering to help you and protect you until this threat passes.”

By the gods, that was eloquent—and effective. Damn it!
“All right, you win.
This round anyway.
Just stay off the Commission’s radar, okay?”

He nodded,
then
turned to Anansi. “What will you
do,
old man?”

“A bit of traveling, as I usually do,” he replied with a grin. “Perhaps I’ll ride this MARTA myself. There are bound to be many interesting people there. I dare say I am one of the few demigods who
is
truly a people person.”

She put her head in her hands. Any other time she would have been fascinated by the presence of a demigod walking around as Anansi did. She began to wonder if the old man just
thought
he was the spider god. But delusional psychosis wouldn’t explain how he’d managed to conjure up so much food—or the apron or the flowers—and the Nubian vouched for him too. Either Nansee was the demigod he claimed to be or he was a crazy man with magical powers. Either way, the city was screwed.

“This happens all the time,” Khefar assured her. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure he will. It’s the city I’m concerned with.”

She had to trust them. No other options presented themselves and she certainly wasn’t about to let either of her guests have free rein of her house when she was out and about working. Still, the idea of turning Anansi loose on the city made her teeth ache.

“I promise to be on my best behavior.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“I simply mean to explore this new town of yours.” He gathered everything off the table, two, three, four hands grabbing. Kira decided to stop counting and not look as he made his way to her kitchen. “As much as I enjoy the islands, this city has such fascinating stories to share. Who knows? I might decide to stay here when all is told and done.”

Khefar’s hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist—the only indication she’d instinctively tried pulling her Lightblade. The Nubian leaned forward, a warning looming in his eyes. “Trickster god, remember?”

Oh yeah.
She settled back, dropping her hand from her blade. She could handle whatever the Universe wanted to throw at her, even the overly curious demigod loading her dishwasher. “Is he always like this?”

“Yes. I would say you get used to it, but you don’t.” He eased his hold,
then
stood. “We should get going before your goodwill is further eroded.”

Chapter 14

N
ice ride,” Kira commented, sliding into the leather bucket seat of the Charger. “Did a lot of custom work?”

“A little,” Khefar admitted. “It came with the street performance package, but I called in a couple of favors to do it up right. It’ll pass a cursory look by the police, but it’s got serious horsepower attached to it.”

“You know I have more questions for you, right?” Kira asked, trying to settle into the seat as he pulled away from the curb. She missed her bike, and even the open window and sunroof couldn’t compare. “What have you been doing for the last dozen centuries?”

“Wandering the world,” he said, hands sure on the wheel as he headed for the city proper. “I’ve been everywhere and seen everything. Experienced enough to know most humans are good people as long as they think they have all they need. It’s when they realize that there’s more—that they want more—that troubles begin.”

“So the cause of mankind’s ills is covetousness?”

“Exactly.”

“I suppose I can see that. And it must be hard for you, to see pockets of your homeland devastated.”

“Not all of Africa is devastated, Kira. There’s good to balance the bad. The same is true here and in Europe. There are good and bad people everywhere.”

“Tell me about some of the people you’ve met. I studied ancient civilizations at university with a focus on the Intermediate Period of Egypt. I can’t imagine how much better my papers would have been
had I
had you as a resource.”

He turned north on Peachtree, following her directions to the Midtown section of Atlanta. “Your professors probably wouldn’t have accepted or believed my version of history. Besides, I’ve forgotten more than I can remember. The first millennium passed in a blur. I spent some of my early immortal life in a cave, venturing out only to forage for food. I do not know how long I did this. Then I met Anansi, who told me that my task could not be completed if it was not begun. So I left my cave and went out into the world.”

She couldn’t stop a small sound of dismay. “Surely you kept a journal, artifacts, something! The amount of history you’ve witnessed—the Library of Alexandria, Cleopatra taking on Rome, the Kandakes of Meroë—surely there’s something you can tell me!”

“I was Medjay, a soldier. Not a scribe. I had no need of reading or writing. Nubia didn’t have a written language at that time. I don’t think I needed to learn how to read or write until long after Rome came to power. Even then, sometimes you don’t know history is happening until after it occurs. History is just ordinary people trying to live their lives and take care of their families and then something bad happens.”

“But—”

“Do you remember what you had for supper two years ago on August twenty-seventh? Do you remember who you talked to, what they wore, what the area looked and felt and smelled like? Did you think that was an ordinary day, or something that should be recorded for posterity?”

“Okay, I see what you mean.” She settled back into the seat. “Still, you’re a living, breathing treasure trove of history.”

“I am a man focused on saving people. I saved as many people as I could, from accidents, from burning dwellings, from hungry beasts, from drowning in floodwaters, from enemy troops. And so the centuries have passed.”

“Do you remember the first life you saved for the Light?”

“What I mostly remember are the ones I failed to save, whether they would reduce my total or not,” Khefar said, his eyes clouded over as he stared into the past. “I do not know if the lives I have saved have gone on to do things great or small. All I know is it is a burden that has been
unending,
like Atlas bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders.” He raised his head. “I am not proud to say I am weary of this burden, but it is the truth. Yet I know I cannot and will not relinquish it.”

“That I understand. I’m a Shadowchaser. No matter how I might wish otherwise, that’s what I’ll always be.”

“What made you become a Chaser?”

“My adoptive parents dumped me on Gilead’s doorstep after I accidentally put their daughter in a coma.” She held up her gloved hands. “What else was I supposed to do? Massage therapy?”

“I don’t suppose so.” A smile curled his lips,
then
faded. “What happened to your birth parents?”

“I never knew them. No one could find any records. I don’t even know what country I’m originally from. My adoptive parents raised me in
British Columbia
, then a brief stint in Greece before puberty hit and ruined my life. After that, all I knew was Gilead and Shadowchasing. Luckily for me, I took to Shadowchaser training like a crocodile to a zebra crossing. I’m good at my job. Sure, the hours suck and most of us die before we can take advantage of the retirement plan, but there are benefits. Besides, I like what I do. I like maintaining the Balance in this city.”

Her hand dropped to the hilt of her blade. “You could even say it’s a form of therapy. If I didn’t have the Chase to relieve the
pressure .
 . . well, I’d feel really bad for whatever city I’d call home. If they’d even let me out of Gilead, that is.”

“Good thing you enjoy your calling, then.”

She did enjoy it. More than that, she needed it.
Needed the thrill of facing off with a skilled opponent, the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline rush of combat.
The satisfaction of removing danger and pushing the Balance back to the Light.
Of knowing that her presence made a difference in the world.
If she didn’t have this Chase, she’d probably turn Atlanta upside down until she found one.

She sighed. The perks that came with being a Shadowchaser—faster healing, speed, strength, using her extrasense as a weapon—would only last so long. Eventually her reflexes would
slow,
healing would be harder, fatigue would come sooner. As much as she dreamed of one day returning to the
Petrie
Museum
or Comstock’s antiques shop, she knew the odds were heavily against her living out her thirties. Any Shadowchaser who lasted longer than that probably wasn’t doing their job.

“Is this it?” Khefar asked, breaking into her thoughts. He slowed the car.
“Impressive lack of understatement.”

Kira peered out the window. “That’s Gilead East for you.”

Midtown was a typical Atlanta mix of new and old buildings. The section offices took up most of the floors of the glass and steel midrise not far from the
Arts
Center
complex. It housed some four hundred
support
and field personnel operating under the guise of a megacompany named Light International.