Claiming the Jackal (7 page)

Chapter Nine

It took five days to find Amansuanan’s lair. Five days of barely eating, barely sleeping. Five days of being shunned by everyone except for Tia, even the other priestesses. Five days of cutting herself with a ceremonial dagger and using a blood spell to lock on to her mother and grandmother. Five days of being cold inside, slowly dying from a broken heart.

Markus regarded her as one of the other jackals affixed a communication device under her shirt. “You know what you have to do?”

She nodded, staring at nothing. “Keep her talking so you and your men can get into position. Attack when you do, then get out of the way so I don’t become collateral damage.” Her lips twisted in a mirthless smile. She was already collateral damage.

“Take this.” Markus held a gun out to her.

“I’ve never used one. Goes against my healer’s code. Besides, my offensive amulets are coded to not hurt a jackal. If she twists the blood spell and is able to control me, she’ll make me use that gun against the clan. Better for one of the men to shoot me with it instead.”

Every jackal within earshot started at her dry statement. Even Hector, who hadn’t looked in her direction the first four days of the mission. “No unnecessary risks, Rana. Tia will be very put out with me if I don’t bring you back in one piece.”

Her control slipped for one blistering, pain-filled moment, then the cold returned. They both knew she wasn’t going back to the compound, but she appreciated him saying it just the same. “Thank you, Markus, for everything you’ve done for me. No matter what happens, you have my gratitude.”

She got into her car and left the rendezvous point, driving another five miles to an industrial area of town. The location surprised her. She’d expected something more sophisticated than abandoned warehouses, but she had to admit it gave someone the privacy they’d need to launch attacks. The jackals could use that to their advantage, too.

Despite being steeped in tradition, the Sons of Anubis had fully embraced modern technology. From smartphones to surveillance equipment, the clan was just as well-equipped as small armies. Except for weapons. The Sons of Anubis remained traditionalists when it came to engaging their enemy, preferring tooth and claw to guns and knives. Only the female guards used modern weaponry.

She parked her car near the last row of decrepit storage buildings, then got out. A door stood open on the last warehouse like a gaping maw and she headed toward it, certain that her relatives were inside and waiting for her. Dry skittering sounds slithered in the shadowed structures around her. She knew without looking that Lost Ones had surrounded her. Worry pricked her. How would Markus and his men get past these undead sentinels? How did Amansuanan control them?

The undead closed in on her, leaving one path to follow. She gathered her courage and entered the gaping warehouse door. Darkness concealed much of the vast open space, but she could hear what sounded like hundreds of the undead. She could only hope that she’d eradicate them all when she unleashed her destructive spell.

“So, blood of my blood, you join us at last.”

Amansuanan stepped free of the shadows and into a pool of torchlight. The ancient priestess was beautiful in the manner that a cobra was beautiful, a petite woman with sharp, bronzed features anchored by fathomless black eyes, a fall of shiny dark hair and cruel lips. The only resemblance she could see between herself and her ancestor were the eyes. But centuries of hatred had left their mark on her. A razor’s edge of madness gleamed in Amansuanan’s eyes.

Rana swallowed her fear. She’d already decided that she wasn’t going to pretend to be something she wasn’t. Hector already had been hurt enough at her hand, believing that she’d lied to him. She wouldn’t begin now. “I may be your blood, but I’m not on your side.”

Her grandmother’s features twisted. “You would side with the jackals over your own family?”

“I don’t know you, Amansuanan. All I know of you is that you summon the undead and use them to kill jackals. I’m a healer. I won’t do that, I won’t hurt innocent people.”

“Innocent? Jackals aren’t innocent. They are liars and betrayers all!”

The words, so close to Hector’s opinion, stunned her. “No, they aren’t. They aren’t out looking for reasons to maim and destroy. They’re good people.”

“You defend them?” Amansuanan stepped closer, gripping Rana by the jaw so tightly she drew blood. The old witch hissed. “You fell in love with one of them, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Rana said, knowing the microphone picked up every word. “Yes, I did.”

“Foolish girl! Jackals are faithless, fickle creatures. Sekhanu was pledged to me, and broke his oath when Asharet was elevated to high priestess over me. A jackal will never love a Daughter of Isis, and you are a fool to think otherwise!”

“I know.” Rana stopped as the pain of her grandmother’s words settled in her heart. “I know Hector will never love me. But it’s not because he’s a jackal and I’m an Isis witch. He hates me because of what my family did to his family. Some things can’t be overcome.”

She rubbed a hand over her chin, wiping at the blood. “Some things are unforgivable, no matter how you try to make amends. I can only hope that one day my name won’t be a curse on his lips.”

Before Amansuanan could react, Rana clamped her bloodstained hands onto the other woman’s wrists. With a soft word, she invoked a blood spell. Power flared, golden-red. She gathered it, flinging it at her grandmother. The older woman shrieked with rage as the jagged magic sliced into her. She broke free of Rana’s hold, throwing up a shield that knocked Rana down.

She regained her feet slowly, weak from powering the spell that still buzzed around Amansuanan. Howls split the air as jackals raced into the building. They had to be outnumbered five to one, but the odds didn’t seem to matter. They were out for revenge, and with Amansuanan too distracted to open a portal, the undead would be permanently dead today.
Go
,
Team Jackal.

“Liriana!”

Amansuanan’s shriek brought Rana up short as she felt the binding of name magic wrap around her. How did her grandmother know her True Name?
No.
Dear gods
,
no.

She turned to see Amansuanan standing next to a portal, her face a mask of blood and rage. “By your Name, I call you. By your blood, I curse you!”

Rana screamed as her skin split open from several dozen cuts. She fell to the ground, curling into a ball as the world went red.

* * *

The scream cut through Hector’s fury. Rana. He wavered, torn between his need for revenge and his still-burning need for her.

Horror stabbed through him as Rana screamed again. He turned to her as she collapsed. Revenge forgotten, he rushed to her, shifted, then gathered her in his arms. Welts rose on her exposed skin, crisscrossing her flesh.

“Rana, what did you do?”

“Only thing I could,” she panted, her features strained. “Didn’t stop her. I failed.”

“Don’t worry about that. Tell me what’s wrong with you. Tell me how to fix this!”

She groaned, her body tensing as more welts scored her skin. Panic clawed through him as the stench of curse magic and blood and death assaulted him.

“You can’t,” she told him, her breathing labored. Her hand flailed out, fingers brushing his chest. “It’s okay. Knew I wasn’t walking out of here.”

Her words cut off with a scream, her body bowing from pain as the welts broke into bloody rivulets on her skin. “Rana. For the love of Anubis, tell me what to do!” Hector roared.

It seemed to take forever for her to focus on him again. “I’m so sorry. Tell me you forgive me, even if it’s a lie.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong. You are not Amansuanan. Her sins are not your sins.”

She slumped back against him. “Thank you for that,” she breathed, her eyes closing in relief. “Please, ask Lord Anubis to have mercy on me....”

“Fight, Rana,” Hector urged. “For the love of Isis and Anubis, I need you to fight. Don’t you dare die!”

“Jackal.”

He snarled as the woman stepped free of the shadows, palms up. “I mean no harm. I am Cassandra, and Rana is my daughter.”

“I know who you are, Witch. I know that you have as much a hand in what’s happened to Rana as that old witch Amansuanan.” Fear for Rana overrode his fury at this Isis witch. “What’s wrong with her?”

“This is a blood curse,” Cassandra said, kneeling beside them. “Amansuanan used our blood tie and the knowledge of Rana’s True Name to power the curse. Rana’s dying.”

No
. He refused to believe it, refused to believe that Rana, brave, loving Rana, would die so senselessly. He snarled at Cassandra. “Heal her now, or I will rend your flesh from your bones.”

“There’s no need to threaten me, jackal,” the priestess retorted. “There’s nothing I can do to reverse the curse. Though I, too, have a blood tie to Rana, Amansuanan’s magic is strong. All I can do is try to make Rana’s last moments comfortable.”

“So you’re just going to give up?” Hector burst out. “You’re her mother—you owe her more than that! You can’t let her die!”

Pain glittered in the other woman’s eyes. “Amansuanan is my mother. She gave me my True Name and used it against me to force me to hurt my daughter. I cannot break the curse—but there is one bond that is stronger than family.”

“What? What is it?”

“The bond between mates.”

Mates? Hector looked down into Rana’s face. Sunken eyes stared up at him, the dark orbs fractured with pain and sorrow. Her entire body was sheathed with sweat and blood. Blue-tinged lips chapped and cracked from the harshness of each labored breath. He could smell death encroaching on her body, the insidious curse eating away at her vitality cell by cell. Could he do this? Could he mate with her to save her life?

“She loves you,” Cassandra said into the tense silence. “If you truly wish to save her, you can use that love as a bridge to forge the bond.”

She loves you.
She loved him and he’d treated her so badly, forever wasn’t long enough to make amends.

He straightened his shoulders. “A blood bond between mates is stronger than a blood bond between relatives, right? Right?”

“I believe so, but I warn you. She’s extremely weak. If you do this, there’s a good chance that the bond won’t take and you’ll both die. If the bond isn’t true, if you don’t love her as she loves you, you could both die. If you have any doubts, it would be better to let Anubis take her.”

His arms tightened around Rana’s limp body. So many emotions swirled inside him. Anger—always the anger—hatred, the need for revenge and something so nebulous he hadn’t noticed it until fear rose, scouring everything else away. He had to let go of the anger. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to hold on to Rana.

He looked up the other jackals surrounding them. Markus gave him a nod. “You need to be sure.”

He looked down at Rana, at her suffering, and gave the only answer he could. “I’ll do it.” Determination sank into his bones. “Succeed or fail, in this life or the next, we’ll be together.”

Cassandra smiled. “Then I will do my part to give you every chance, something that every mother should want to do for her child. Perhaps one day Liriana will understand that being my mother’s daughter, I could do nothing save answer when she called. But I will not let my daughter be damned by her blood.”

Reaching out, she drew an ankh onto Rana’s forehead, using her own bloody fingertip. “Liriana. By blood you were bound. By love you are freed. Through blood you were cursed. Through love you will live.”

Magic rose in the older priestess, suffusing her with a golden glow. She exhaled, and a gleaming ribbon flowed from Cassandra’s hand to the bloody ankh on Rana’s forehead. The angry, weeping welts in Rana’s skin shrank.

Cassandra fell back. As Hector watched, the witch’s body collapsed in on itself, blowing away like grains of sand on an unseen wind.

Rana gasped, her eyes flying open. “Mother. Oh, Mother.”

Hector carefully pushed back her hair. “It’s me, Hector,” he said. Bending over her, he continued, “My True Name is...Helias.”

“Helias,” she whispered, and he felt her innate magic reach out to him, so much weaker than he’d ever felt it. “My True Name...is Liriana.”

That she would offer her true name to him displayed a level of trust that touched him to his core. “Liriana,” he repeated, and this time he could feel their connection, weak, but so thankfully there between them. “Do you want to live, Liriana?”

“Yes, Helias. Yes.”

He didn’t ask more. He didn’t ask if she still loved him. Didn’t ask if she wanted to be with him. She wanted to live. It was enough.

It had to be enough.

With a whispered prayer to Anubis, he sank his teeth into his wrist, tearing the skin, allowing his blood to flow. Through the seeping welts that had reappeared on Rana’s skin, he bit into her wrist, drawing blood. That she didn’t flinch or cry out told him that the curse had her in thrall again, that the energy Cassandra had sacrificed her life to give had already drained away.

That time was running out.

He clasped their hands together, their blood mingling, then spoke the words of binding, words every jackal learned at puberty in hopes of finding their forever mate.

Blood to blood
,

Soul to soul
,

Heart to heart.

I
bond with thee
,

I
stay with thee
,

In life and afterlife.

A whoomph of magic mushroomed in his chest, blossoming outward in search of the reciprocating vow that would complete the bonding ritual. And hopefully save Rana’s life.

Heart pounding, he waited for Rana’s refrain, the pledge that would bind them irrevocably together and overpower the effects of the blood curse. The words didn’t come. Breath rattled in her lungs, her body feeling lighter in his arms.

“Rana,” he choked out, broken. “Liriana, please. You have to say the words. You have to make the vow. Don’t give up, please don’t. Blood to blood, soul to soul...”