Shadow Blade (19 page)

There.
A thrum along her extrasense, like a gently plucked guitar string.
The power of bureaucracy was such that, even if Bernie had worked to conceal his reasoning for reaching out to her about the dagger, he couldn’t conceal the travel request and projected expense form for his trip to America.

The original request had been made a month prior. Dimly she could feel Bernie’s excitement as he’d completed the forms. Of course, as her handler, meeting with her was par for the course, but documentation still had to be completed. He’d left the reason for his travel deliberately vague, something he apparently had done every time he’d come to visit her.

The air shimmered before her eyes. The conference room faded, blended, re-emerged as a small paneled office. Comstock sat at an ornately carved Victorian
desk,
eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose as he peered at the computer screen.

He looked up, and it seemed as if he looked directly at her. “Hello, I’ve been waiting for you.”

This wasn’t like her normal visions. “Why?”

He smiled.
“To help you, of course.
The answers are there, if you know where to look. Since we’re here, I’d say that you do.”

“Bernie.” How had he been able to do this? How had he known that he’d need to? Again she was all too aware of how little she actually knew about her mentor.

“I’m a composite of Bernie, your subconscious, and your magic, powered and manifested through your visions.”

He tapped the monitor. “If you’re in Gilead East’s office, I would recommend that you not use your extrasense further, especially with my personal items.” A grin: pure Bernie. “Not that I want to throw you across the room, but there’s no need to let anyone who may be monitoring you know you’ve hit upon something, right?”

No, I don’t think so, she thought. She didn’t think anyone monitoring her could pick up on her visions, since even people in the room with her usually couldn’t see them no matter how psychically skilled. They could pick up anything she said, though.

She looked at the monitor as he tapped it again. He had a word processing program open. Four words in large block letters took up the entire screen: ENIG.
KEPER.
SAFE.
NUBIA.

She had no idea what
Enig
meant, but she guessed that
Keper
referred to the dagger.
Safe
was rather obvious.
Nubia
must have meant the Nubian. The dagger was safe with the Nubian, but not with Enig. Was Enig the name of the Avatar?

“Nothing gives me more joy than to watch your brain work,” Bernie told her. “You always were my best student.”

Not only was Bernie helping her from beyond, he could also read her mind. She nodded silently, hoping he’d know that she understood.

His hands moved over the keyboard, deleting the letters onscreen. “I think that’s enough for now. Any longer and they’ll know you’re having a vision of some sort.”

She nodded again, knowing he was right. Bernie was doing his part to help. She’d do hers.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. I swear.”

“I know you will, Kira. I know you won’t rest until you find the Fallen responsible.” His face grew solemn. “Which is why I hope you realize you don’t have to do this alone. I told you before that there are those who can help you. Let them. Let him.”

She froze, unsure which part of the construct was speaking now: Bernie, her subconscious, or her magic. Trust the Nubian? Sure, he had risked his life—and afterlife—taking on the seeker demon. The cynical part of her felt as if he’d interfered, not intervened. She would have finished the seeker if he hadn’t butted in. It just would have taken longer.

Accepting Khefar’s help was one thing. Having someone who could wield the Dagger of Kheferatum could only benefit her side. Trusting him was another. Trusting people meant letting them in, giving them a piece of
yourself
. All that did was leave you open for hurt. Kira had had a world of hurt in the last couple of days; she didn’t really want to take on more.

I don’t think I can do this.

Sadness filled Bernie’s eyes. “You must try, Kira,” he said as the room around him began to fade into darkness. “Danger is coming and you don’t have a lot of time to prepare. Your life is at stake.”

Slowly, so slowly, the darkness of the vision gave way to the flourescent lighting of the conference room, as if reluctant to let go. Kira blinked rapidly, then wiped at her eyes.
Yep, definitely can’t do this.

“Solomon?” Sanchez stood at the door, making Kira wonder if the section chief had been watching her the entire time on a video feed punched directly into her office. “Is everything all right?”

“Not really.” She pulled on her gloves,
then
began gathering everything together. “Bernie’s death, it—it’s still too close and it’s hard to push through the Veil here. I’ll take everything home and conduct my review there.”

Sanchez gave her an assessing gaze. “You’ll keep me apprised of any information you uncover?”

Kira hesitated before picking up the box containing Bernie’s ashes. “If I find anything pertinent to the investigation, I’ll let you know.”

“Very well.”
Sanchez stood aside. Two men in blue coveralls and gloves wheeled a cart into the room,
then
began stacking the files onto it. “Your new phone and vehicle are ready. I’ll expect an email with your full report by the end of the day.”

Kira nodded wordlessly, then headed for the door, clutching Bernie’s ashes close. Even in death, her mentor made her think. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to think the way he wanted her to.

Chapter 16

K
hefar sat on the patio of a Greek restaurant with an unobstructed view of the Midtown building Kira had disappeared into. Just because he couldn’t follow her didn’t mean he couldn’t do reconnaissance.

The Shadowchaser was, as they say, a piece of work. So much power packed onto her frame.
So much anger and sadness.
Frustration and impotence.
He recognized it, recognized it all. He’d been much the same way four thousand years ago, after losing his family and village. There were times when he still felt that rage, the bleak misery, the inability to find the action that would make everything all right.

Anansi slid into the seat opposite his. “You really blew that, you know.”

Khefar stifled a groan. “Thought you were out riding the rails?”

“How do you know I’m not?”

The waitress hurried up to him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Nansee?”

The demigod waggled his eyebrows.
“So many things, my dear.
Right now, I’ll settle for lunch.” He placed his order, a substantial amount given the feast he’d laid out at breakfast.

The waitress left, giggling. Anansi watched her retreating form, whistled in admiration, then leaned toward Khefar again. “Now, let’s get back to the task at hand.”

“And that task is?”

“Trying to determine how you can stay in Kira’s life long enough to save it. You need to change tactics, son of Nubia. That opening salvo over breakfast was disgracefully lacking in subtlety.”

“I offered to assist her—”

“No, you didn’t. You simply attempted to take over, convinced by your logic and reason that she’d instantly give in because you’re right. Then, when she refused your counsel, you proceeded to point out her shortcomings.” Anansi sat back. “Not your finest hour, my friend. Since when did returning from the dead make you so grumpy?”

“I am not grumpy. I’m concerned with her safety. And I did apologize.”

“Oh, I see. It was all part of some sort of psychological maneuvering, was it? Have you forgotten when you served under Kandake Amanirenas?”

Khefar rubbed his forehead. “Yes and no.”

“Did you learn nothing from dealing with powerful women? Kira may not be a queen, but she has the spirit of the best warrior queens. How many people have you met who would take on a seeker demon without hesitation?”

“Not many. I know she can handle herself, Nansee. I’m sure she can handle just about any situation that the Universe throws at her and take care of it. But no one’s taking care of her, and that’s what concerns me.”

The spider god looked at him for a long moment. It was a look, part speculation, part discernment, that always made Khefar uncomfortable and served to remind him that Nansee was Anansi, and definitely not human.

“You did not ask me,” said the demigod, “but if you did, I would say that offering friendship is the tack you need to take. She’s a Shadowchaser and more than capable of facing down her enemies. What she is probably not capable of is making friends. Sound familiar?”

“Should it?”

Anansi snorted. “You have more in common with her than you think. She even has Ma’at as her patroness, you worshipper of Isis.”

“I did not realize Kira was dedicated to Ma’at.” Khefar had seen Ma’at’s statue in Kira’s bedroom but hadn’t realized it represented anything other than her knowledge and love of ancient Egypt. “The Goddess of Truth speaks to her?”

Anansi solemnly nodded the affirmative, but his eyes twinkled. “It is understandable, great warrior. Between demanding your blade back, getting into a fight with a seeker, and coming back from the dead, you have been
somewhat .
 . . distracted.”

“All right, spider.” Khefar slapped the tabletop lightly with his palm. “I will approach her in friendship. It’s the least I can do for the return of my dagger.”

“Good man, good man.” The waitress brought Anansi’s meal, three platters’ worth. “You might want to go ahead and check out of the hotel, then. You can probably be back at her house by the time she leaves Gilead.”

Khefar stared at the demigod. “I noticed you didn’t include yourself. Do I even want to know your plans?”

Anansi grinned. “What human can dare to know the ways of the gods?” He leaned to the side to get a better view of the retreating waitress. “I think I’m going to continue to savor the local flavor.”

“Don’t call me to bail you out of trouble, old man,” Khefar said, standing. “In fact, if you do get into trouble, I think I’ll call your father instead.” He grinned. “Or I could call your wife.”

The demigod paled slightly but perceptively. “You don’t know how to reach her.”

“Believe that if you want. I’ve read the stories too, you know. Have fun.”

An hour later Khefar watched as Kira pulled up in front of her converted warehouse in one of those American sport utility vehicles that were supposed to blend in but instead stood out, especially in her emerging neighborhood.

He got out of the curb-parked Charger and followed her as she pulled into the garage, waiting until she killed the engine and opened the SUV’s door. “You upgraded?”

“I hate this ugly thing,” she said, getting out. “But I need transportation until I get my bike looked at.”

“I would be happy to take you wherever you need to go.”

“I don’t need a chauffeur.” She popped the hatch.

He decided to avoid what he realized was bound to be an argument he was sure to lose. “How did it go?”

“Better than I expected, probably because I suppressed my reckless demeanor.” She reached into the cargo area and took out a small sealed cardboard box. “I’ve still got a bunch of stuff to go through.”

“Do you need any help?”

She stopped, looked at him. He kept what he hoped was an open and friendly expression. Finally she shrugged. “Sure. If you could grab that storage box and bring it in, I’d appreciate it.”

After she’d deactivated the protections to allow them through the door into the living area, he helped her carry everything in, following her through the living room area to a scarred and pitted wood table most people would have used as a dining surface.

“Anansi told me that you follow Ma’at.”

Again she paused to stare at him. “I thought you knew that. You saw my statue.”

“I saw it, but I didn’t realize what it meant. What she meant to you.”

“She called to me early, but I didn’t realize it. I guess I was too angry then. Only when I began my training on Santa Costa did I understand it was
Her
voice that I heard. The more I learn about
Her
, the more I get to know Her, the more I became aware it was inevitable that I would stand against Chaos.”

He nodded. “I think you’re well-suited to each other.”

“Thanks.” She dipped her head. “I asked Her blessing while we waited for you
to .
 . . you know.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. That she would do that for a stranger she wasn’t sure she trusted touched him. “I tend to call that time sleeping without dreaming, but it’s nice to have someone watching over me.
Even nicer to have Ma’at’s blessing.
Isis is my patroness.”

“Makes sense.”

She headed back out to the garage. He followed.

“Of course,” he said as she scanned the vehicle for anything she might have left, “the entire pantheon has had an impact on my life more or less, especially after I traveled north and became part of the pharaoh’s army.”

She closed the hatch on the SUV. “Now you want to be chatty?”

“I did promise to share stories. Besides, I want to make amends.”

She settled her hands on her hips. “You want to stay here, don’t you?”

He rubbed a hand over his braids, feeling sheepish.
“If you don’t mind, yes.”

“Don’t you have a hotel room or something?”

“Checked out.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re here.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m not trying to be a babysitter.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What are you trying to do, then?”

“Keep you safe.”

“And who’s keeping you safe?”

He blinked in surprise. He had Anansi, but most of the time the demigod couldn’t interfere.
At least not when it came to direct conflicts.
“
Uh .
 . . ”

“Uh-huh. You realize that if you answer, ‘I can take care of myself,’ you’ve lost your argument?”