Dark Angel; The Chosen; Soulmate (54 page)

There was a long moment of silence, and then she said, “I don't know what you're talking about.” She could hear the shake in her own voice.

“Oh, yes, you do. The stranger. Tall, blond, handsome… and with such sad dark eyes. The one you've been meeting on the sly.”

Ha-nahkt could feel the shaking take over her whole body. She was a priestess, sworn to the goddess. If anyone found she'd been meeting a man….

“Oh, don't worry, little one,” Maya said and laughed. “I'm not here to turn you in. Just the opposite, in fact. I want to help you.”

“We haven't done anything,” Ha-nahkt faltered. “Just kissed. He says he doesn't want me to leave the temple. He isn't going to stay long. He says he saw me, and he just had to speak to me.”

“And no wonder,” Maya said in a cooing tone. She touched Ha-nahkt's hair lightly and Ha-nahkt moved instinctively away. “You're such a pretty girl. Such unusual coloring for this part of the world. I suppose you think you love him.”

“I
do
love him,” Ha-nahkt blurted before she could stop herself. Then she lowered her voice. “But I know my duty. He
says that in the next world we'll be together.” She didn't want to tell the rest of it, the remarkable things she'd seen with the stranger, the way she'd
recognized
him. The way they were destined for each other.

“And you believed him? Oh, my dear child. You're so innocent. I suppose that comes from living your life in a temple.” She gazed around thoughtfully, then looked back at Hannah. Her face became grave and regretful.

“I hate to have to tell you this,” she said. “But the stranger does
not
love you. The truth is that he's a very evil man. The truth is that he's not a man at all. He's an Ur-Demon and he wants to steal your
sa.
”

Oh, Isis, Ha-nahkt thought.
Sa
was the breath of life, the magical force that allowed you to live. She'd heard of demons who wanted to steal it. But she couldn't believe it of the stranger. He seemed so gentle, so kind…

“It's true,” Maya said positively. She glanced at Ha-nahkt sideways. “And you know it is, if you think about it. Why else would he want to taste your blood?”

Ha-nahkt started and flushed. “How do you know—?” She stopped and bit her lip.

“You've been meeting him at night by the lotus pool, when everyone else is asleep,” Maya said. “And I suppose you thought it wouldn't hurt to let him drink a little of your blood. Not much. Just a bit. It was exciting. But I'm telling you the truth, now—it
will
hurt you. He's a demon and he wants you dead.”

The husky, mesmerizing voice went on and on. It was telling all about Ur-Demons who drank blood, and men and women who could change into animals, and a place called the World of the Night, where they all lived. Ha-nahkt's head began to spin.

And her heart shattered.

Literally. She could feel the jagged pieces of it every time she tried to breathe. A priestess didn't cry, but tears were forcing themselves out of her closed lids.

Because she couldn't deny that the stranger did act a little like an Ur-Demon. Why else
would
he drink blood?

And the things she'd seen with him, the feeling of destiny… that must have all been magic. He had tricked her with spells.

Maya seemed to have finished her story. “Do you think you can remember all that?” she asked.

Ha-nahkt made a miserable gesture. What did it matter if she remembered it? She only wanted to be left alone.

“Look at me!”

Ha-nahkt glanced up, startled. It was a mistake. Maya's eyes were strange; they seemed to turn different colors from moment to moment, and once Ha-nahkt met them, she couldn't look away. She was caught in a spell, and she felt her will slipping.

“Now,” Maya said, and her eyes were deep gold and ancient as a crocodile's. “Remember all that. And remember this. Remember… how he kills you.”

And then the strangest thing of all happened.

It suddenly seemed to Ha-nahkt that she was two people. One of them was her ordinary self. And the other was a different self, a distant self, who seemed to be looking on from the future. At this moment, Ha-nahkt and the future self were seeing different things.

Ha-nahkt saw that Maya was gone and the temple was empty. And then she saw that someone else was walking in. A tall figure, with light hair and dark fathomless eyes—the stranger. He smiled at her, walked toward her with his arms held out. He grasped her with hands that were as strong as a demon's. Then he showed his teeth.

The future self saw something else. She saw that Maya never left the temple. She saw Maya's face and body ripple as if they were made of water—and then change. It was as if there were two images, one on top of the other. The outward image was of the stranger, but it was Maya underneath.

That's it. That's how she did it.

The voice came from outside Ha-nahkt, and she didn't understand it. She didn't have time to think about it, either, because the next instant she felt the tearing pain of teeth.

Oh, Isis, Goddess of Life, guide me to the other world….

“That's how she did it,” Hannah breathed.

She was sitting up on the couch. She knew who she was, and more, she knew who she'd been.

It was another of those blinding flashes of illumination. She felt as if she were standing at the end of the corridor of time and looking back at a hundred different versions of herself. They each looked slightly different, and they wore different clothes, but they were all her. Her name had been Hanje, Anora, Xiana, Nan Haiane, Honni, Ian, Annette. She had been a warrior, a priestess, a princess, a slave. And right now she felt she had the strength of all her selves.

At the far end of the corridor, back where it was misty and blurry and faintly tinted pink and blue, she seemed to see Hana smiling at her. And then Hana turned and walked away, her task accomplished.

Hannah took a deep breath and let it out.

“She did it with illusions,” she said, hardly aware that she was talking out loud. “Maya. And she's done it before, of course. Maybe every time. What do you do with somebody who keeps killing you over and over? Never letting you live to your seventeenth birthday? Trying to destroy you, not just your life, but your heart…?”

She realized that Paul was staring at her. “‘You want me to answer that?”

Hannah shook her head even as she went on talking. “Goddess—I mean, God—she must hate me. I still don't understand why. It must be because she wants Thierry herself—or maybe just because she wants him miserable. She wants him to know that I'm terrified of him, that I
hate him. And she
did
it. She convinced me. She convinced my subconscious enough that I started warning myself against him.”

“If any of this is true—which I'm not going to admit for a second, because they would definitely take my license away—then I can tell you one thing,” Paul said. “She sounds very, very dangerous.”

“She is.”

“Then why are you so happy?” he asked pathetically.

Hannah glanced at him and laughed. She couldn't hope to explain it.

But she was more than happy, she was exalted. She was buoyant, ecstatic, over the moon.

Thierry wasn't evil. She had the confirmation of a hundred selves whispering it to her. Maya was the enemy, the snake in the garden. Thierry was exactly what he'd told her he was. Someone who had made a terrible mistake and had spent millennia paying for it—and searching for her.

He
is
gentle and kind. He does love me. And we
are
destined for each other.

I've got to find him.

The last thought came as an additional bright revelation, but one that made her sit up and go still.

She had no idea how.

Where had he gone? Home. Where was home? She didn't know.

It could be anywhere in the world.

“Hannah…”

“Wait,” Hannah whispered.

“Look, Hannah, I think we should maybe do some work on this. Talk about it, examine your feelings…”

“No, hush!” Hannah waved a hand at him. “She gave me a clue! She didn't mean to, but she gave me a clue! She said he had connections with witches in Vegas.”

“Oh, my God,” Paul muttered. Then he jumped up. “Hannah, where are you going?”

“I'm sorry.” She darted back into the office, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss. Then, smiling into his startled face, she said, “Thank you. Thank you for helping. You'll never know how much you've done for me.”

“I need money.”

Chess blinked, but went on looking at her intently.

“I know it isn't fair to ask you without explaining why. But I
can't
tell you. It would be dangerous for you. I just have to ask you to trust me.”

Chess kept looking at her. The slanted green eyes searched Hannah's face. Then, without a word, she got up.

Hannah sat on Chess's crisp white-on-white coverlet and waited. After a few minutes Chess came back into the room and settled her own petite self on the bed.

“Here,” she said, and plunked down a credit card. “Mom
said I could use it to get some things for graduation. I figure she'll understand—maybe.”

Hannah threw her arms around her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I'll pay it back as soon as I can.” Then she burst out, “How can you be so nice? I'd be yelling to know what was going on.”

“I
am
going to yell,” Chess said, squeezing her back. “But more than that. I'm going with you.”

Hannah drew back. How could she explain? She knew that by going to Las Vegas she would be putting her own life in danger. From Maya, certainly. From the Night World, probably. Even from the witches Thierry had connections with, possibly.

And she couldn't drag Chess into that.

“I've got something I want you to hang on to,” she said. She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out an envelope. “This is for you and for my mom—just in case. If you don't hear from me by my birthday, then I want you to open it.”

“Didn't you hear me? I'm going
with
you. I don't know what's been going on with you, but I'm not going to let you run off on your own.”

“And I can't take you.” She caught the glowing cat-eyes and held them. “Please understand, Chess. It's something I have to do alone. Besides, I need you here to cover for me, to tell my mom I'm at your house so she doesn't worry. Okay?” She reached out and gave Chess a tiny shake. “Okay?”

Chess shut her eyes, then nodded. Then she sniffled, her chin trembling.

Hannah hugged her again. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Let's be best friends forever.”

Monday morning, instead of going to school, Hannah started for Billings airport. She was driving the Ford—her mom had fixed it over the weekend. Her mom thought she was spending the next couple of days with Chess to study for finals.

It was frightening but exhilarating to fly on a plane by herself, going to a city she'd never been to before. All the time she was in the air, she was thinking, Closer, closer, closer—and looking at the black rose ring on her finger.

She'd fished it out of her bedroom wastebasket. Now she turned her hand this way and that to see the black gems catch the light. Her chest tightened.

What if I can't find him? she thought.

The other fear she didn't want to admit, even to herself. What if she did find him, and he didn't want her anymore? After all, she'd only told him that she hated him a few dozen times and ordered him to stay away from her forever.

I won't think about that. There's no point. First I have to track him down, and after that what happens, happens.

The airport in Las Vegas was surprisingly small. There were slot machines all over. Hannah collected her one duffel bag at the luggage carousel and then walked outside. She
stood in the warm desert air, trying to figure out what to do next.

How do you find witches?

She didn't know. She didn't think they were likely to be listed in the phone book. So she just trusted to luck and headed where everybody else was heading—the Strip.

It was a mistake from the beginning, and that afternoon and night were among the worst times in her life.

It didn't start off so bad. The Strip was gaudy and glittery, especially as darkness fell. The hotels were so bizarre and so dazzling that it took Hannah's breath away. One of them, the Luxor, was shaped like a giant black pyramid with a Sphinx in front of it. Hannah stood and watched colored lasers dart from the Sphinx's eyes and laughed.

What would Ha-nahkt have thought of
that
?

But there was something almost sickening about all the lights and the hustling after a while. Something… unwholesome. The crowds were so thick, both inside the hotels and out on the street, that Hannah could hardly move. Everyone seemed to be in a rush—except the people nailed in front of slot machines.

It feels… greedy, Hannah decided finally, searching in her mind for the right word. All these people want to win free money. All these hotels want to take their money. And of course, the hotels are the winners in the end. They've built a sort of Venus flytrap to lure people here. And some of these
people don't look as if they can afford to lose.

Her heart felt physically heavy and her lungs felt constricted. She wanted Montana and a horizon so far away that it pried your mind open. She wanted clean air. She wanted
space.

But even worse than the atmosphere of greed and commercialism was the fact that she wasn't finding any witches.

She struck up conversations a few times with desk clerks and waitresses. But when she casually asked if there were any odd people in town who practiced witchcraft, they looked at her as if she were crazy.

By nine o'clock that night she was dizzy, exhausted, and sick with defeat.