I noticed Remy watching me from across the fire. Her gaze was uncertain, and she glanced down at the backpack I was caressing. “You okay, Jackie?”
I picked up the map again. “Just thinking about tomorrow.”
I could still feel her gaze on me for a while longer. I forced myself to relax, to be calm. Nothing was going to keep me from getting that halo.
Not Noah, not Remy, and not a four-thousand-year-old archangel.
“If you can travel the world on someone else’s dime, do it. I’d say ‘just don’t sleep with the director to do it,’ but let’s be realistic.
Everyone
sleeps with the director.”—
Big Trouble in Little Panties: A Memoir,
by Remy Summore
~*~
“How much farther did you say it was, Jackie?” Remy panted.
I pulled out the page from the Melledin manuscript and compared it to the map that Phryne had drawn on. “Should be right around here.”
At my side, Noah hacked at a thick growth of jungle vine with a machete and paused to wipe his brow. “There’s nothing around here. Exactly how close?”
“Within a couple of square miles,” I said with a grimace, folding up the maps and pulling out my own machete again. “Sorry. This thing isn’t exactly pinpoint accurate.”
Remy groaned in protest.
“I will carry you again, Remiza,” Ethan said, dodging a low-hanging vine.
“You’re going to have to carry all of us soon if it gets any hotter,” Noah said, swinging the machete into the thick underbrush. “It’s like trying to hack aside the entire jungle. I’m not entirely sure we’re not going in circles.”
Complainers, all of them. “You can go back to the boat.”
Ethan snorted. “Jackie Brighton, I do not think we could find the boat.”
He had a point. I paused to stare up at the sky, but it was impossible to see the sun overhead. The canopy of green was so thick and high that no direct light penetrated—it was impossible to tell if it was midday or late afternoon. The jungle itself was a sauna of dirt, bugs, and hooting monkeys. Birds flew through the branches high overhead, their calls overloud to my frayed nerves. It was noisy, hot, breezeless, and utterly miserable.
Noah stopped and extended his hand. “Are you sure you’re going the right way? Let me see that map.”
The compulsion ripped through me and I glared blackly at him, sheathing my machete to jerk out the map again. “Thanks for the command, Noah. You’re a real pal.”
He gave me a flash of a grin, but ignored my protests. With the months that passed, Noah and I had gone from awkward ex-lovers into friendship. Now that sex wasn’t an issue, we were friendly, but it was more like sibling bickering than anything else. He seemed to finally accept that I carried a torch for Zane and always would, and he hadn’t approached me about the relationship—or heaven forbid, marriage—again. I knew now that when we’d parted last time, he’d been furious because I’d hurt his pride. Noah Gideon had a great deal of pride, but the tattoos of servitude were teaching him humility and patience, slowly but surely.
That, and his booty call to Delilah once a month, back in New Orleans.
Well, he was learning humility unless it came to me, that is. Then he was free to command with abandon. “You’re a dick,” I told him, slapping the papers into his hand and turning back to glare at the bushes in front of us.
“Yes, but we all know how much you like dick, Jackie,” Remy said cheerfully.
I twisted the ring on my finger and scowled at her. “You’re not helping.”
She simply gave a sunny smile from her perch atop Ethan’s large back, and it only irritated me more. I was tired, hungry, and wanted someone to carry me too. But we were so close, and Noah kept stopping us. What if Phryne got the drop on us? I gestured at the bushes ahead. “I’m sure it’s just right over there…”
My words trailed off as the bushes ahead of me parted, and a spearhead emerged, aimed right at my heart.
I stilled.
“Um, guys?” Remy said with a note of alarm as the bushes began to rustle.
The spear pushed forward even more and I found myself staring at a man in a loincloth, his black hair flat and plastered around his head in a perfect circle, his body painted a bright ochre. He held the spear at my breast, while other men began to emerge from the bush. My fingers twitched over the knife at my belt.
“Do not fear, my beautiful lotus,” Ethan said, standing taller to hide Remy’s smaller form behind him. “I will protect you.”
“Remain calm, all of you,” Noah said. I glanced over at him and he was tucking the map into his shirt. “And Jackie, don’t do anything reckless.”
“I like how I’m the one that gets the warning,” I murmured, taking a step backward as more brightly colored men poured out of the bushes, pointing bows and spears at us.
“He knows you very well,” Ethan said unhelpfully.
“Who are these guys?” Remy asked. “I’m guessing they don’t know that spears are more of a nuisance than a setback?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I told her, eyeing the spear closest to me. “Some of the uncontacted tribes are rumored to be cannibals. I’m not sure you can regrow your body if they eat it.”
“Oh,” she said weakly.
We all raised our hands in the air and surrendered.
~*~
The tribe led us through the thick growth of jungle, and to my surprise, within a few minutes we were on a narrow path. I looked over at Noah, uneasy. The tribe urged us forward, speaking in a language we didn’t understand, but it was obvious they wanted us to go down the trail. And since it beat using the machetes to move a foot at a time—and they had spears at our backs—I was happy to comply.
A few minutes down the trail, the canopy opened up and my breath caught in my throat.
A great stone ruin lay before us, half-swallowed by vines. Enormous flowered vines grew up the sides of the broken rock, the shape clearly a gate of some kind. More crumbling stone buildings were beyond the gate, each building heavily covered with vegetation. I saw people duck into the houses, and my breath caught in my throat. A lost city. How amazing. My mother would have been so excited to see this.
And then I felt a little stab of guilt that I hadn’t kept in contact with her since I’d lost Zane. I’d call her when I got back, I vowed. As soon as my life got back on track. It wasn’t her fault that my life had gone upside down since I’d been turned into a succubus. I made myself a promise that if I got back from this—and got Zane back—that I’d contact her again, invite her to stay with me.
After
I got Zane back.
As we walked into the city, people stopped to stare at us. I stared back, studying the architecture that was clearly centuries old, the paintings and murals on the buildings that were still fresh. It was like we’d stepped through time into a pre-Columbian civilization. My stomach fluttered.
As we walked forward, I realized it wasn’t my stomach that was fluttering. My internal tuning fork was going haywire. A halo was here. I could feel its power pulse around me. Excitement mingled with anticipation. I was
so
close to success.
The tribesfolk led us down a dirt path that had been cleared of undergrowth. Suddenly we turned and faced the largest building. A gigantic, tiered pyramid rose from the jungle floor, the sides of it covered in greenery. At the base of the pyramid, a scatter of half-crumbled stone buildings lay lined up in rows. Behind the pyramid, I could see glimpses of cleared fields. The pyramid drew my attention once more. My archaeologist’s eye thought it to be a temple, except that there was a throne in the front, about halfway up the steps. Just high enough so the occupant could peer down at everyone below.
And that throne was currently occupied.
Power pulsed toward us as the man on the throne slowly stood. He was beautiful, ethereal. His long hair was as pale as moonlight, his skin as milky as the rest of him, and his eyes were light gray. He looked like a ghost. A length of red fabric draped over him, much like a toga, and as he stepped forward, his power whipped over us.
Ethan sank to one knee and bowed.
“Camael,” Noah said, stepping forward with his hand extended. “Brother.”
The one called Camael moved toward us, regal and proud. When he reached our small group, he gave Noah a nod of greeting and took the hand offered, though there was no warmth in him. There was no warmth in him anywhere. His gaze moved over Remy and Ethan, and then landed on me. His eyes searched mine, and then he looked back to Noah.
“Yours?” he inquired mildly.
“I created her, but she answers to no one.” He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to challenge it.
Like I’d sass mouth to this icicle. His power was pulsing like a nuclear bomb. Even I knew when to keep my mouth shut.
Camael’s cool eyes turned to Noah, and I noticed that his face was exquisitely made. I’d thought Noah and Zane pretty, but this man was unearthly. “Why do you seek me out after all these years?”
I looked at Noah to see how he’d respond to that. To my surprise, he chose honesty. “I have been tasked by the Serim Council to seek your halo. I had no idea you still lived. The Council will be pleased to hear of it.”
Camael waved a hand. “I do not care if they are pleased or not. They are a pack of power-hungry fools.”
“I like this guy,” Remy whispered behind me.
I turned to give her a shushing look when I noticed that Camael had moved to stand directly in front of me. I gave him a tight smile, but he only studied me. “You are not surprised to see me alive,” he said in a low voice pitched so the others could not overhear. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Taken aback, I shook my head quickly. “You’re mistaken.”
“I’m never mistaken.”
That wave of power emanating from him blasted through me, making my stomach churn. “I just have a great poker face,” I lied. “Win at cards all the time.” When he continued to study me, I decided to change the subject. “So how come you’re out here at the edge of civilization?”
“Because I wish to be left alone,” he said flatly.
Remy kicked me in the back of the leg. As if it were all my fault somehow.
“Well, we won’t stay long,” I lied. “Now that we see that you’re up and kicking, I’m sure we’ll be on our way. It’s obvious that this is a bad time—”
Noah grasped my arm. “Jackie, hush,” he said in a low voice.
I fell silent. No choice.
“Nonsense,” Camael said slowly, his cool voice a breeze in the humid jungle. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer and then he looked to Noah. “You must all be my guests tonight. We shall have a feast.”
“Sounds good to me,” Remy said. “I’m friggin’ starving.”
~*~
As part of the celebration, we were offered new clothing (loincloths, which we declined), body paint (which we also declined) and flowers for our hair. The feast was held at sunset, and the entire village showed up, serving delicacies that I didn’t recognize in the slightest. Every time I tried to refuse something, someone frowned at me—Noah included—so I took a bite of everything that was offered.
“I’m pretty sure you just ate roasted fire ants,” Remy pointed out after one particularly crispy bite of something unrecognizable.
“I hate you for pointing that out,” I told her, grabbing my canteen and drinking heavily.
She grinned and chewed on a leafy green roll stuffed with what looked like nuts. At her side, Ethan seemed to be a big hit with the tribe. They couldn’t understand a word he said, but he ate with great gusto and seemed appreciative of everything. Brave man.
“So what do you make of all this?” Remy asked me, leaning over. “I kept thinking that it reminded me of a movie a friend of mine was in. It’s very
Bro-Mancing the Bone,
except you’re not gay, I’m not gay, and the orgy hasn’t started yet.”
“There’s no orgy, Remy.” At least I sure hoped not.
“Yeah, so why the party? The Great White Dope over there didn’t exactly look thrilled to see Noah.”
The two men sat next to each other near the front of the small gathering, talking in low voices. I wouldn’t have called it friendly. I’d have called it strained on Noah’s part and bored on Camael’s.
Camael had known that I’d come after him, known he was alive. Surely he was wondering why I was here to collect his halo, then?
“I don’t know, Remy,” I said quietly, and managed to not grimace when someone passed me another helping of food. I took a bite of the white, shredded meat that had been handed to me on a wooden plate. Tasted like chicken. Oh God. It could be anything. Across from me, a woman wearing only a loincloth smiled and nodded, speaking her native tongue. I made a face of appreciation and nodded back at her. Mmm mmm mystery meat.
Remy giggled at my expression. “At least that one doesn’t have discernible legs or wings.”
“Still hate you,” I said.
At the front of the feast, Noah and Camael stood. Camael spoke in the native tongue for a moment, and then he turned, his pale gaze focusing on our small trio. “It is time for the Serim to retire. We shall all speak in the morning.”
I felt a stirring of excitement at that. The Serim were retiring. That meant Noah was going to be out of commission for the rest of the evening, and Camael would be unconscious.
Helpless.
And I could take that halo from him. I thought of the knives strapped to my waist, and hated the little surge of excitement that pushed through me.
I was going to murder an immortal to steal his power. And I was looking forward to it. How sick was that?
~*~
I sat in the darkness, waiting, fully dressed.
Feeling the pulse of the halo so close nearby, my skin prickled constantly, my senses alert. My thoughts were entirely of Zane, and I pictured his face over and over again. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine the brush of his wing feathers over my skin, his fingertips grazing my lower lip, as if parting my lips for a kiss. The empty, dull ache of his loss gnawed at me, and I embraced it.