Nightwalker
Page 59

“Not with Apep leading the Templars you won’t. When Apep comes for you—and he will come for you—he’s going to use the Templars as cannon fodder. You will be forced to kill your own kind. There will be no unity.”
“That remains to be seen,” Jackson said, his eyes washing over the business-suited man. “What about you? What do you do for the Doyen?”
“Whatever he asks me to do. Right now, he wants me to check out your story about having all of the Nightwalkers joined.”
“As you can see, it is a truth, not a story,” Jackson said, indicating the field of players.
“I would have you introduce me to all of the players in the game against Apep. One of each race. Then I will tell my Doyen that your tales are truths. Let’s start with her.”
He turned hard and pointed to Paulette. Paulette paled, going a sickly shade of white.
“Grey!” she cried as the Wraith took two steps toward her. But Kamen was there again, holding his arm.
“This is Paulette, a Mystical, but you already know that, don’t you?” Kamen said.
“What if I do?” The Wraith tried to shrug off his touch.
Viève watched the struggle with bated breath, her skin cold and clammy, her palms sweating. Kamen was so close to danger. So close to death. All the Wraith had to do was touch him and he would be dead.
She clung to Kamen’s free arm and stared hard at every move the Wraith made. She didn’t even notice that though she was holding on to him, her hands didn’t actually ‘touch’ his skin and clothing.
If Felix so much as changed the slightest bit of color, Viève would phase Kamen. For when a Wraith was about to use his deathtouch, his hands turned a venous blue. But it could happen in the blink of an eye, so it was barely enough of a warning. She wanted to phase Kamen anyway, but Kamen was keeping the Wraith away from Paulette with the presence of his solid body.
“What is it the Wraiths find so interesting about the Mysticals?” Kamen asked him, still keeping hold of him. The Wraith could have phased right through him, he realized. He was allowing himself to be held. Why?
“Why, their sheer beauty of course,” the Wraith said, giving Paulette a long once-over.
By now Grey had come off the field and went to stand in front of her, placing his body between her and the Wraith. Grey was not a small man and his body adequately sheltered Paulette.
“You aren’t like the Djynn. You can derive no power from them as nikkis,” Kamen said.
“As I said, it is their beauty which lures us. As you may have noticed, Wraiths lack color in their looks. And diversity. The Mysticals are always beautiful in both their forms. And we can see their aura. It shines…warms us. Adds color to a drab, colorless existence. And it’s addicting. Strengthening. It is like a drug that makes us feel all-powerful, as if we cannot be stopped and can conquer anything.”
“I can’t see an aura,” Viève said.
“You’re a fucking half-breed,” he snapped.
Kamen saw red. “Speak to her in that tone of voice and in that derisive way again,” he said through his teeth, “and I will rip out your tongue.”
The Wraith snorted out a laugh. “You would break our fragile peace accord over a disgusting little half-breed?”
“Yes,” Kamen hissed. “We have many half-breeds here and we treat each and every one of them with respect. You will do the same or find yourself removed from our company. In what manner you’ll be removed will all depend on my mood at the time.”
The Wraith sucked at his teeth and gave Viève a derisive once-over.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll make nice with the half-breed.”
“I would prefer you avoid her altogether,” Kamen said. “Now we will continue our introductions.”
Kamen slowly introduced the other members of the Nightwalker clans.
“What of the eleventh race? I count only ten,” he said.
“The Shadowdweller is inside the house. He was injured during the stripping of the curse.”
“I will meet him.” The Wraith broke away from the group and marched toward the house. Kamen kept in stride beside him and said, “You will allow me to see if he is up to it. He may not be well enough yet.”
They went inside the house and the Wraith indicated that Kamen should show him the way. Kamen led him upstairs. The Wraith seemed to notice every detail, took everything in. When they stopped outside of Jackson and Marissa’s suite, Kamen held up a hand to stop him from entering. “I’ll be only a moment.”
“Very well,” the Wraith said.
Kamen disappeared into the room, leaving Viève, Jackson, and Marissa outside. The Wraith folded his arms across his thin chest and peered down at Viève.
“So your mother couldn’t control herself around one little human?” he said.
Viève blanched. She didn’t know all the details of her mother’s indiscretion, only that she regretted it and the result of it.
“A fact she regrets,” Viève said in a whisper.
“And so she should. Look at you. You’re too fleshy. Your face is round and fat. You have makeup on. Any decent Wraith woman wouldn’t be caught wearing makeup.”
“That’s not true. All the women in my cell wear makeup. They like the color.”
His frown was dour. “Perhaps,” he said. “Where is your cell?”
“Plainsboro, Iowa.”
“Iowa! Well that explains that. Your cell can’t be very big. How many get together at your Kinua gatherings?”
“Our cell has twenty people in it. Our gatherings are over one hundred and fifty strong.”
“One hundred and fifty is nothing. But,” he eyed her, “surely they don’t allow you to go to a Kinua.”
“No,” she said in a small voice. “They don’t.”
Felix huffed out a breath. “Well, at least they are doing something right. The idea of you breeding and putting more of your tainted blood into our numbers is appalling.”
“I know,” Viève said miserably.
“Hey, that’s enough of that!” Jackson said.
“I only speak the truth,” Felix said. “Look at her. She knows it’s true.”
Viève wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Felix. He was ruining this place for her. Here she had found a brief respite of acceptance. Now he was here polluting all those good feelings. And if more Wraiths came it would grow even worse.