Trusted Bond, page 12
I looked back up at Jamal.
“Can I offer you a bowl of molokhiyya?”
I had no idea what that was, but neither did I want to appear ungrateful. “Yes, please.”
He nodded, turned, and called over his shoulder in Arabic, and then sat down in front of me on the heavy coffee table.
“Why’s it so cold in here?”
“We’re several stories underground.”
“Okay. Can you tell me where this is?” I asked as I began to sit up.
A heavy hand on my chest kept me anchored back against the pillows. “We had the physician here checking on you, and he says that you are healing injuries that to a weaker panther would have been mortal. Only your innate strength has sustained you.”
I nodded. “I had you in one of the rooms in the back for two days, but solitude for a panther, as you know, is not healthy. Just the sounds of others are comforting for us.”
Which was strange but true. In the wild, panthers, big cats, were solitary creatures, but werepanthers needed their tribes, needed others. At least, normal panthers did. Crane had always longed for company when we were traveling around from place to place. Semels and reahs were built differently. As the only cats that mated for life, all they needed was each other. “Do you remember getting up to relieve yourself?”
I didn’t.
He gave me a quick, glowing smile. “You’re lucky I was there or you would have peed in the closet.”
Studying his face, I saw a man who was not traditionally handsome, but the expressive eyebrows, smiling mouth, and velvet sound of his voice made up for it. On the street I wouldn’t have looked at him twice, but his warmth called to me, as did his quiet strength. “I moved you out here to the couch this morning hoping it would help you to hear others, sense them, and now I see I was right. It is so good to have you looking at me.”
The room felt alive with energy, and that, as much as the sleep, had helped. “Now to answer your question, you are at Ra-Horakhty in Sobek, the barracks of the Shu.”
I sat up before he could stop me. “Should I be in the barracks before the—”
“Stop,” he said, cutting me off, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. “I am the phocal of the Shu, you can’t fool me.”
“I’m sorry?”
He squinted at me. “You are no more a warrior than I am a pupil of a sylvan. You don’t have the look of a fighter, or of a khatyu… there’s power, but not”—he had to think for a second, searching for the word he wanted—“fierceness. Who are you?”
“Jin Rayne.”
“From where?”
“Nevada.”
His dark brows furrowed. “How did you come to be here in Sobek?”
“I was abducted.”
“Why?”
I had traveled with my best friend across the country, and for the most part we had avoided other werepanther tribes and especially semels. On those few occasions when we had met them, often I had come away bloody and bruised, and sometimes just barely with my life. To try to explain to this man, the head of the Shu, the fiercest of werepanther warriors, that I was both a reah and a man did not seem smart. “I have no idea,” I lied. “Maybe you can tell me.”
His scowl was dark. “Who took you from your tribe?”
“I don’t know. I woke up in a room and ran. I was running when you saw me.”
“I understand a man taking a woman, but not another man.”
What was I supposed to say?
“Jamal.”
He turned and then lifted his hands to take the tray that was lowered to him. Whatever it was smelled amazing. “Here, eat this.”
I crossed my legs, tucked the blanket around me so I wouldn’t flash anyone, and took the wooden tray from him. The huge bowl on it held thick, succulent-smelling soup that was a dark forest green color and had some kind of meat cut into chunks mixed into it. “It’s chicken.”
“I don’t really care, but thanks for telling me.” I smiled at him. He let out a quick breath, watching me devour my food. The thick bread was warm and soft, the soup was possibly the best thing I’d ever had in my life, and I couldn’t drink enough glasses of water. Jamal called for a second bowl for me, and I got hummus and pita bread as well as mashed eggplant and tahini to dip it in. When I was stuffed, I was poured a mug of mint tea that actually tasted as good as it smelled. I had listened to the conversation of the men who had taken seats around us as I ate. They were talking about the feast, how after fifteen days of standing idly by guarding the priest, they were all ready for the games of Thoth to begin. They got to compete to see who the best warrior was within their ranks as well as testing the initiates that wanted to try and join them. “Jin.”
My eyes flicked back to the face of Jamal Hassan. “Tell me what tribe you’re from.”
Fifteen days. I had been gone for fifteen days already. I could only imagine Logan’s worry. I needed to get to him as soon as possible. “Jin?”
“Pakhet,” I lied. “Pakhet,” another man said quickly, taking a seat beside me on the couch. “Why do I know that tribe?”
“Because Jin’s sheseru was the one shielding those two that attacked Logan Church’s reah,” Jamal told him, locking eyes with me. “Why in the world would your semel allow your sheseru to shield those that attacked another semel’s mate?”
“I have no idea.” I forced a smile. “What is it with this semel Logan Church and his reah?” another man asked.
“Yes,” someone else chimed in. “Why can’t he keep her safe?”
“I don’t think—” I began.
“If the priest decrees that the reah is not safe with the semel, he’ll remove her,” the man to my left told me. “Did you know that? Did you know that the priest can part a mated pair? It is his right by divine law.”
“Only if the reah seeks sanctuary,” I corrected him. “That is the law.”
The men clustered around Jamal and me went silent. Everyone was staring at me. “And how do you know so much about the law?” the man standing beside Jamal’s chair asked me. “My father taught me.”
He nodded slowly before leaning forward and offering me his hand. “I am Shahid Alon, second to the phocal along with Taj Chalthoum.”
“Here!”
I turned my head at the smiling man who was striding across the room to join us. He took my hand warmly in his the minute Shahid released me. It was only then, looking at him closely and then glancing around the room, that I noticed that all the men were dressed the same, in uniforms. I was in a barracks, after all. “So are you one of the khatyu of the tribe of Pakhet?”
“He’s no fighter,” Jamal told Taj. “He can’t be.”
“What then?” Taj was interested to hear my answer, as was Shahid.
“I’m no one, just another panther.”
He nodded. “And where were you taken from?”
“My apartment.”
“But why?” Jamal wanted to know.
I shrugged.
“So.” Jamal squinted at me. “If you’re no one special, are you interested in taking me up on my offer to become a Shu initiate? You should; you shift very fast.”
It was better than “very fast,” and we both knew it. He was testing me to see what I would say. “I’d love to try,” I said, because I had to. I had to reconcile my seamless shift with the passivity of my nature for him, and pretending that I didn’t realize the gift I had would do it. “I just know that my skills are nowhere near the class of a Shu warrior.”
Jamal squinted at me, trying to sense the truth. “We will decide,” he said finally. I had walked right into the trial without even realizing it. I was tired—it was the only defense I had. I didn’t even know uniforms when I saw them. “Surely you can shift for us,” he baited me. It was a test; there was no doubt about it. For me to turn him down when he was my only protection was idiotic. “Of course.”
Jamal surged to his feet, yelling for everyone to come close and show the initiate, the epheboi, what all of them could already do. This was when they were supposed to show me their individual power and skill. I watched as the men formed a giant circle before starting to strip. As panthers, the idea of being naked was natural to them. I had never shared the ease that others did with being naked in a group. I traced my hesitancy back to being nearly beaten to death the first time I had shifted in front of others. But now I was expected to strip without a care in front of these men, as this was simply part of the trial. I had no choice.
I watched as one of the men dove into the middle of the floor, and at the last minute before he hit the ground, he rolled over and landed on all four feet, having shifted in mid-leap into a powerful golden panther. He looked more heavily muscled than even my mate. Logan was bigger, closer to saber-toothed tiger size, much larger than a male lion, but all this man, this member of the Shu, did was train and fight, and the toned muscles under golden fur proclaimed that fact. I hoped never to have to fight him or any of the others. The next man ran forward in a blur of speed, and when he stopped, he was suddenly a panther, his change like the flick of a light. They all took a turn after that, one after another, each one like a bolt of lightning, every one like a jolt or a flash, and there was suddenly a panther where a man had been seconds before. Shahid shifted in the blink of an eye, Taj just as fast, each and every one of the Shu so breathtaking that I was momentarily overwhelmed. When all the men who were in the room had transformed for me in blurring speed, Jamal came forward to show me the magnitude of his control. With each step, he grew and shrank as he crossed the manmade circle, man to panther over and over again, back and forth with an ease that I had never seen. To see another shifter with that much willpower, that much training and concentrated energy, was overwhelming. I had never seen anything like him. “Come”—he smiled at me as he stood in the center of clustered panthers one moment and men the next—“show us your gift, Jin Rayne.”
I debated quickly about what to do. Speed would not impress them; they were all fast. Power held no sway, as all of them were stronger cats than me. Only complete mastery of the change would bring forth awe. Suppressing my discomfort at being naked in front of them, I stood up and let the blanket slide off me and fall to a mound at my feet. I moved around the couch, lowering myself to my hands and knees, and then slowly, artfully, I began to crawl the length of the room. With the slightest movement forward, I let my glossy black fur swim over my body, forward and back, like the push and pull of the tide. I could change any part of me on command. One eye panther, one eye human, half of my face cat, the other man, the animal in me sliding over my skin, appearing and disappearing at will. The effect, when I had shown Logan a month ago, had been complete silence as he forgot to breathe. It seemed to have the same effect on the assembled members of the Shu.
It was like being at a dance club when the lights went off and the strobe came on and all you saw were fragments of images, snatches of forms, like a heartbeat, a pulse, barely a flicker. You never saw enough to know if what you were seeing was really there or not. Like a horror movie—the best ones only gave you glimpses of the creature, letting your mind fill in the blanks. I froze for a moment, moving from man to panther with agonizing slowness and then blurring speed. The alternating focus let them see my absolute mastery of my beast, an illustration of power that I had seen none of them match. When at last I reached the opposite wall from the couch, I turned to face Jamal, head lifted, standing proud in my panther form, meeting his gaze. The look in his eyes comforted me, as they were wide with wonder.
“Who are you?” Taj shouted at me as he closed the distance between us fast. “What the hell are you?”
He wasn’t mad, but he was close. “You think I’m a fool?” He roared that question as he stopped a foot from me, jabbing at the air with a pointed finger. “Yes,” Shahid agreed, coming up beside Taj, his eyes locked on mine. “Speak your lineage now, Jin Rayne.”
Hard to be scared of them, as they were both naked, but I knew they could hurt me in either of their forms, and I was feeling the effects of my shifting already. I was not strong enough to have put on such a controlled display of my skill. It had drained me. Again. “Now!” Jamal commanded me as he joined the other two. “Speak now!”
I took a breath, confident that from where I was, if I had to make a run for it, I could at least make it to the hall. From there I would have to figure out how to get back up to the ground level. There had to be an elevator or something. “I won’t ask again,” the phocal assured me. I did as I was asked, shifting back to myself and answering clearly: “I’m a reah.”
Jamal Hassan stared deep into my eyes as he advanced on me. “You lie. I have never heard of a male reah.”
Only my display moments before saved me from being eviscerated where I stood. Had I tried to tell them first, before exhibiting my power, then I would have been in mortal danger. They were hard men, strong men, and they valued only that which was at their own level of dominance and above. Having witnessed my control, they were ready to at least listen.
“Not many have,” I assured him, letting out a deep breath. The fear had dissipated quickly, leaving exhaustion in its place. I was lightheaded, the shifting, my kidnapping and torture, the flight from the murderous sheseran, all of it was suddenly crashing down on me, stealing my adrenaline. When I took a step forward, fighting to remain upright, I had many hands on me at once.
“Whose reah are you?” Shahid asked harshly. I was freezing suddenly, my teeth chattering too hard for me to even answer him.
“I know who you belong to. You’re the reah of the tribe of Mafdet,” Jamal said, taking a step toward me. Before I realized, he had me off my feet and tucked against the warmth of his chest. They were all so much bigger than me. “You belong to Logan Church.”
Yes, I did. “Do you deny it?”
I shook my head even as I felt, for a moment, like I was floating. “Enough of this.” Jamal’s breath touched my face like a caress as he bent close to look into my eyes. “I want my answers, and only one can give them to us. You are going to see the priest, reah, and he will decide your fate.”
I would have begged and pleaded to be taken to my mate instead, but I didn’t think I had any sway with any of them. In the end it didn’t matter; I couldn’t even remain conscious.
Chapter Ten
MY EYES drifted open slowly, and the warm glow of lantern light greeted me. I was outside on a chaise, the warm air fragrant with flowers and food. I smelled jasmine and the succulent aroma of something cooking. There was garlic and meat being roasted or smoked, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t keep myself from inhaling the thick, delicious air. I rolled sideways and accidentally slid to the ground. It hurt, the fall, and it was jarring. I had to brace myself on the marble floor for long minutes until everything stopped spinning. When I could, I rose to my feet and took in the palatial space.
It was like something out of a movie, a private grotto that belonged to a member of the nobility, opulent and stunning, attached to an enormous suite. The freshwater pool had been carved out of preexisting rock, and the vast portico on the other side looked ancient, as though the house had been built around a structure that dated back to the pharaohs. I shivered hard, afraid, almost, to know where I was.
Crossing back through the enormous room, I saw a blue silk robe draped over a chaise. I had missed it at first glance. Pulling it on as I walked to the door, I noted that it smelled like rosewater. The scent was comforting, soothing, calming, so that when I opened the door and found Roshan Tabir, the sheseru of the tribe of Rahotep, I wasn’t as terrified as I would have been otherwise. What was he doing there?
“Wait,” he said gently before I could slam the door in his face. I froze, wary, ready to bolt if he even breathed.
His dark brown eyes were locked on mine, and as hard as I looked, all I saw was warmth. The smile he gave me after several minutes made my chest tighten. He put up both hands to show me he meant me no harm. “I failed you, my reah, and I beg forgiveness for both myself and my mate. As soon as you are well enough, she will come and lay herself at your feet. Should you not forgive her, my semel has ordered her immediate execution in the pit.”
I kept my eyes on his hands.
“Reah?”
“Why am I…?” Where was I? Jamal had said I was going to see the priest. He was the phocal, so the guy he reported to was the priest. But I was looking at the sheseru of the semel-aten. What the fuck? “Where am I?”
“In the home of Ammon El Masry.”
“Why?” That made no sense. After a minute, when there was no answer and I became aware that my question was not being answered, I came out of my daze. “Roshan?”
“Reah.” Roshan’s voice cracked on my title. It came to me after a second, and I realized that there was only one thing he cared about. “Of course I forgive your sheseran. She’s not gonna die because of me.”
His relief was obvious. “Thank you, my reah.” He took a breath, pointing beside me. “Shall I come in and speak to you about my semel?”
I didn’t crack the door any wider. “I thought I was going to see the priest?”
He gave me an indulgent smile. “The phocal was presumptuous to think that on his own authority you would be taken to see the priest before the master of Sobek, our semel.”
I was in the middle of a pissing contest between Jamal and Ammon, between the phocal and the semel, and because the semel had more pull than the phocal, I was at his house instead of being presented to the priest and the priest’s council of nine, the council of Ennead.
“How did you find out where I was?”
“Sobek is only so big, my reah. Once I made it to the street with my men, it was simple to find out that you were with Jamal and taken to the barracks.”
“Why didn’t I see you there?”
