Chapter Nine

Happy Hunting

Khamari

I nudge the body of my guide, Mahamoud. Just yesterday, his face was tan and toasted by the sun from his long days of guiding foreigners through Egypt.

He’s dead now. Pale and cold and I’m wondering if his death has anything to do with me.

The gold band on his ring finger glints in the sliver of pale moonlight from the window. I slide my finger down his neck, checking for a pulse or a bite, but all I find are razor bumps.

Sniffing the air, I realize there isn’t a fresh scent outside of the eight travelers on the boat, most of them the crew. The smell of spicy vomit burdens the air. I flip on the light. The riverboat bumps along the Nile River, but I know the bumpy ride is not the reason Mahamoud is dead.

Someone killed him.

Someone who is not a vampire.

Someone who knows what I am.

Which is why they carefully combed my room when I switched up my plans to check out a last-minute excursion.

“Shit.” Unease rolls like the tide inside of me.

Next stop, I’m off this boat. But I’ll need another guide to move through the cities quickly. I can’t go around asking questions in broken Arabic.

Whoever this person or people are, they don’t give a damn about killing innocents.

I can find another guide. Scan their memories and do it myself.

That way, I don’t have to speak. Maybe even blend in. To my surprise, when I arrived, I noticed men and women with hair thick like mine and skin the color of onyx. Nubians.

I close Mahamoud’s brown eyes shut. A beep from my watch pulls my attention.

Three hours until we dock.

When the boat stops, I get going, grabbing a simple, beat-up duffel bag that won’t cause too much attention. I cancel my hotel reservation and hit up something small, something you wouldn’t expect a rich vampire to book.

I find a place. Despite it being a hostel, they check my luggage for explosives.

I circle the hostel twice, then go upstairs to my room. The neon orange and blue painted walls and tiled mosaic floors remind me of one of the nicer homes I stayed in with a foster parent. I drop my bags on the bed, thinking of my foster mom, Karen, who said orange made her happy. She was a happy woman, but she didn’t have a happy husband, and those orange walls had done little to camouflage blood.

Against the walls are two twin-size beds with matching floral prints. I push the beds together to make it full size. Though, from the feel of the mattress, it looks as comfortable as Fred Flintstone’s bed. In the corner sits a chair, and a few inches above is a flimsy desk hinged on the wall. Once I wipe everything down, I pull out my laptop and connect.

First, I check on Khaven from an encrypted site he’d given me and send him a message.

Me: You up?

Khaven: Yeah. Everyone’s asleep. You’re good to call.

Me: Can’t…someone killed my guide.

Khaven: Dayummmnn. That sucks.

Me: It does. He was a good dude. But again, can’t call. Gotta keep safe.

Khaven: Assuming you have a plan…

I do.

I’d already set up a meeting with a new experienced Egyptologist for only a day, although they insisted on two days. I paid for two and opted out the second day. He’ll meet me at a restaurant, and from there, I’ll scan his memories and figure out how to guide myself and hijack one of those passes they used to get around museums and tombs. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to take some of their blood.

Me: Did YOU get what you need?

Khaven: Kinda.

Me: Kinda?

“What the hell?” Did she back out of healing him? I know she hates vampires, but we had a deal.

My head pounds, exploding from railroading thoughts of Khaven’s looming death and a powerful artifact that could give me the power to rid the world of vampires. As much as I love my brother, he’s a liability. He knows it, and Alexander knows it, too.

I need more details, but I know I can’t ask if my comms are monitored by whoever killed my guide, or even Alexander. And, if I dreamwalk Khaven, I may drain him.

I need Raven— Texas . She wants me to call her Texas now. I have to respect that.

I glance at my watch. Noon here, so it’s early morning back home. Hopefully, she isn’t an early riser.

Instead of sleeping on the concrete bed, I sit on the chair and lean back. The seat doesn’t bend under my weight. Still, I close my eyes, taking deep breaths until the horns from motor bikes and bumper-to-bumper traffic quiet.

Until my sweat-soaked skin doesn’t slide off the rubber seat.

Until I can visualize her dark brown eyes. I lock in and enter her dreams.

“Really?” She curls up, yanking the comforter over her chest. “Please tell me this is a nightmare.”

“No. It’s a dream. I’m a dreamwalker, remember.”

“More like a dream stalker.”

“I observe.”

She snorts. “A key quality in a stalker.”

I look up at the pristine white ceiling and sigh. “Texas.”

“You don’t get the right to come into my nightmares, sighing.”

“I contacted Khaven. Says he’s only kinda healed?”

She shrugs. “Sure, yes. That would be accurate.”

“Why? I didn’t kinda give you intel on Dakota.”

“Now you’re being a dick.”

“I have one.”

“You are one.”

I want to say something back. Something hurtful. But damn, I guess I’ve hurt her enough. Stick to the facts, man.

“I’m not here to mess around. I’m here for my brother.”

“Of course you are.” She rolls her eyes.

“He’s—”

“Fine. And you’re welcome.” She pulls her knees up to her chin. “I can’t fully heal him. It’s like I have this block or something.” She rams her fingers through her hair, but it gets caught in the tangle of curls. She tugs her curls until they loosen. My fingers twitch at the sight. Years ago, I gently tucked those curls around her ears. Or bunched them in my grip when I—

“Anton thinks I need to tap into my Internist side,” she interrupts my thoughts. “I’ve been trying really hard, but it feels like it’s just beyond my reach.”

“What about that soul I talked to? Can she help?”

“I…um…yes. What you said works. One at a time, which is why I can’t sleep.”

“They’re bum-rushing you in your sleep?”

“Rude, right?” Her eyes glitter like the stone in her hand.

I recognize the irony of my statement way too late.

“There are a hundred souls in that stone… Do they really expect you to talk with all of them?”

“Not all at once,” she says. “But they have this thing where they’re not releasing powers until they think I’m ready. And they won’t feel like I’m ready until they’ve contacted me.”

“Jesus.”

“That’s what I said. I mean, did they give Rich this hard of a time?”

“He had hundreds of years with them.” I cross my arms. “Rich should coach you.”

She shakes her head like a kid being force-fed medicine. “He lies more than a possum on a road. I don’t trust him.” She sucks her teeth. “Anyway, Anton is training me.”

Anger boils in my stomach.

“Anton? That vamp who fought Alexander?”

“Yes.” She narrows her eyes. “He’s Alexander’s kid.”

“Then why would you trust his kid ?”

“Trust?” She swings her legs off the bed and stalks toward me. “Why would I trust anyone when everyone has lied to me?”

“Not—”

“You, Dakota, Paris. Even Grandma Lou.” She ticks off the list with her fingers. “I’m sure Anton has some skeletons in the closet. Thing is, I don’t plan on getting close enough to him, or anyone else, to figure that out. Never again.”

Her chest heaves, and it looks like she’s breathing fire. The flames of her words burst from her mouth and incinerate me down to the bone.

We stare at each other. Her eyes are fevered, fatigued. After a long minute, her anger loses its steam.

Still, I wait her out, just as I had times before when we argued.

When her shoulders finally slump, I say, “I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know. But sometimes…sometimes you’ve got to do bad things to protect good people.”

“You mean you’ve gotta roll over people. Betray them, lie, steal, kill. There is no greater good in that. It’s a honey-laced lie to make it easier for the person who inflicts their pain on their victims.”

“Nothing about walking away from you was easy. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

She shakes her head. “Why did you come back to see me again, when I was in high school?” she asked, referring to the vampire attack that reactivated her slayer powers.

“Because my grandfather announced I would succeed him as king. And as king, everyone must know where you are. If they figured out about my visits back home to Texas, they would have eventually connected my ties to you.”

Texas returns to bed. “So you were there to say goodbye,” she whispers.

“I tried.”

She lifts her hand in the air, like a stop sign. “Let’s stop talking about this. You wanted to know about your brother, now you know. He promised to hit me up when he needs me. You can go back to being Alexander’s errand boy.” She shoos me away with the flick of her wrist.

“You know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Sure, it is, Mr. I’ve Got Vampire Business in Egypt.”

“You know where I am?” I try to keep the surprise out of my voice.

“You can thank Dakota. Charlotte should have someone on your tail right about now.” She pulls the cover over her head.

“They can join whoever is already after me.”

“Someone else is after you?” Her question is muffled under the covers.

“Unless the Slayer Society kills innocent people.”

She pulls the covers back down from over her head. “No…that’s forbidden.”

“Figured. But someone killed my guide and tossed my room.”

“Vampire attack?”

“No. They smelled human. But humans can be just as dangerous.”

She nods. “Watch your back.”

“Why do that when you do it so well?”

She twists her lips. “Go away.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“Only if you’re not in them.”

I chuckle. “Bye Texas.” Inhaling, I prepare to leave the dreamscape.

“Wait. Khamari?”

I open my eyes, pulling myself back in. “Yes?”

“I’m coming for you. Coming for the tablet. Promise you won’t do anything to make me kill you, okay?”

My heartbeat triples at her statement. “You don’t have to follow me. I’m fine.”

She throws a pillow, but I easily dodge it. “Who says I’m following you?”

“I know what I’m doing. Hang tight, okay?”

And maybe once I’m done, and I survive it, we’ll have the chance at a normal life.