Soul Unbound (Key to the Cursed Book 3) (19 page)

Siya welcomed the caress of the warm breeze and the
soft fern branches hanging from above. Her darker side quieted to the point she
almost felt normal. At peace with herself. Floating and free.

Pain flickered along the edges of her dream,
distant but annoying. She turned away from it, seeking again the warmth of
positive energy saturating her mind. Her dreams were heavy and sluggish. She
grimaced when a wave of pain shocked her system. Her eyes fluttered open,
despite her mind refusing to release its unrelenting hold.

Her chest ached deep inside. She rolled on her
side and struggled to push herself up. Resting her forehead on the soft moss,
she forced the heaviness from her body. Disoriented, she scanned her
surroundings. The reason she was in her mother’s temple escaped her. The
importance skipped out of her reach.

She crawled to the turquoise pool and splashed
cool water on her face. Her pain resurfaced, fresh and hot. She grasped the
back of her neck. Her normally ice cold flesh was warm beneath her fingertips. The
irregularity in her skin was soft and painless. No, the discomfort she was
feeling ran much deeper, straight to her soul.

“Bomani.” She struggled to stand and ran towards
the gap in the stone. Unsteady on her feet, she stumbled and crashed into the
moss path.

What had he done?

She fought against the spell he put her under. Her
head floated but her limbs were the weight of sandstone. Grasping onto the vines,
she pulled herself up. Weak and disoriented, she weaved through the cavern and
out onto the ledge. A wave of pain sent her tumbling over the edge. She
dematerialized a fraction from the jagged rocks and slammed into the wood dock
next to the warehouse.

White flakes floated lazily down around her,
beguiling the inferno birthing them. Heat and black acrid smoke sucked the air
from her lungs. A firestorm of red flames consumed the wood frame of the
building. The metal glowed bright orange. She did not sense Dennu or the senior
younglings’ signatures. Bomani remained hidden from her senses, as he always
had, but the connection in her soul did not lie. Flames engulfed her heart,
burning her from the inside.

“Bomani,” she screamed and lurched towards the
door. The metal and heat scorched her hands and arms, driving her away from
what she most desperately wanted to save. The structure groaned and snapped.
The windows shattered above and rained molten glass on her head. She ducked as
flames poured out of the opening. Siya ran around the building, desperate to
find a way in. “Bomani.”

Her tears mixed with the black soot and choking
sobs. She closed her eyes and willed the water from the river. This could not
be happening, not again. A large black wave crashed over the dock and rushed
around her feet. Steam rose as the water mixed with fire and beat back the heat
long enough for her to rip the door from its hinges.

Black thick smoke billowed out of the interior. A
loud explosion rocked the foundation. The roof crumpled and collapsed at its
center, slamming the backdraft of debris into her and throwing her out onto the
wooden dock.

Her heart exploded with grief, along with the hope
of Bomani’s survival. Sirens wailed in the distance, competing with the scream
bursting from her lungs.

To have found Bomani, only to lose him was an
agony above all others—another casualty among many. She had feared Bomani was
doomed to her father’s fate, when in fact it was she who would become the beast.

Acid boiled in her chest with each heaving breath.
Feeding on her sorrow, her demon emerged, seething and angry. The dock beneath
her cracked and splintered with the flow of dark energy from her body. Digging
her now pointed nails into the blackened earth, she bellowed an unworldly sound
that echoed through the night.

Again, she was alone to suffer the wrath of her
agony. No one to stop the transformation. Not that anyone ever could.
Except—she stared over the burning wreckage. “Bomani,” she hissed, unable to
subdue the dark malevolence from her voice. Her demon clawed at her hope that
he may have survived until it was shredded and bleeding. In its place,
vengeance took a bitter hold of her soul.

Lightning zapped and the smell of ozone rose in
the air. Siya reared up, like a phoenix birthed by the fires of Duat. She
snapped her reddened gaze at Bast. “What have I ever done to you? To the
Council?”

“It is not what you have done, Sekhmet. It is what
you represent,” Bast said flatly and swept her gaze over the rubble. The orange
light of the embers reflected in the flat edge of Bast’s sword.

“Is that jealousy, I hear in your voice, or fear?”
Siya hissed, knowing her strength and adaptability between their worlds was a
threat to conformity.

“It is the law,” Bast snapped.

“Laws that forced apart a bond that bore a child
of both worlds, drove my mother to kill herself and found me guilty without
trial,” Siya roared. “And, Bomani. What law has he broken?” Siya stalked
forward, weaponless but no less lethal for the fury scorching her veins.

“Bomani has fulfilled his destiny, just as you
will. Both worthy sacrifices for the Pantheons.” Bast leveled her sword at
Siya’s chest.

“Sacrifices, for what? You. The Council,” Siya
scoffed. Her skin blackened with the hatred in her soul. Bomani’s mark was all
but invisible but still weighed heavy in her heart. A life she would never have
in this world.

“Do not make this difficult,” Meti said. The male
god walked forward, his dark hair tied back with a thin leather strap. He
looked the same as the day Siya was banished from the Order of Protectors. He
rested his sword on his shoulder, a twin to Siya’s weapon buried beneath the
molten metal and tons of concrete.

“I have swallowed your hypocrisy for far too
long.” Siya’s breath sawed from her lungs along with the hate she had always
fought to contain. She looked down at herself and held her arms out. “This is
what you wanted, is it not?”

Haru appeared to her right. His blond hair waved
with the updraft of hot air produced by the still burning fire. His light eyes
scanned the darkness and returned to meet her gaze.

Siya fisted her sharp talons. Warm rivets of blood
dripped from her palm as her fellow protectors shifted into position around
her. “So this is what it has come to?” Siya leveled her accusing stare at Meti.

“You have always known this would come to pass,”
Meti said, his tone neutral.

“Time has come to bring this to a close, Sekhmet,”
Bast said curtly as if she was late for another meeting.

“The time is now, Siya,” Haru said, his stare
weighted with significance. Her mother’s friend pulled his blade from over his
shoulder.

Haru never used her pet name in front of the other
Protectors. Dark energy ran up her spine. She turned to stare down the dock.
Her father was coming. Based on the amount of energy, he was not alone.

Siya snapped back to the Protectors. They used her
as bait. This was a battle they would not win. “Fools, are you ready to die
today?” Siya lunged, knocked Bast’s weapon free and grabbed her by the throat.
“You have meddled too far this time.”

“Release her.” Meti pressed the tip of his sword
to Siya’s neck.

“Menthu has raised the siravants. He has the
demotic text,” Siya hissed, not caring about the blade biting into her skin.

“What is she talking about?” Meti’s gaze snapped
to Bast.

Bast grappled against Siya’s hold.

“You already knew, did you not?” Siya pulled Bast
close. “It is why you kept Bomani’s presence here a secret.”

“Bast?” Meti lowered his sword by a fraction.

Haru stepped forward but kept his eyes trained on
the dock. “We need to leave. Sort this out somewhere else.”

“No!” Siya barked. “Let us have this out. Maybe
then you will believe me.”

“I could not agree more, daughter.” Menthu stepped
free of the darkness and into the firelight along with six siravants. Siya
recognized the human hosts, only their vacant black eyes gave them away as
something other than human.

Bast’s eyes widened and Siya reveled in her fear.
“Is this what you imagined it would be? Did you think you would be the hero?
Single-handedly saving mankind.” Siya pulled Bast in close. “I hold you
personally responsible for Bomani’s death.”

“Siya, let her go,” Haru said.

“After all she has done?” Siya said, tears forming
in her eyes. Her chest ached for Bomani. She wanted exactly what her father
commanded—to end Bast’s existence.

“You do not know how long I have waited for this.”
Menthu chuckled. Lunging, her father sliced a large wound across Haru’s chest
and sent the protector to his knees. With his sword leveled at Haru’s neck, Menthu
thrust the sharp blade forward.

“No.” Siya discarded Bast to the ground and
slammed into her father. Menthu’s sword missed Haru by a fraction. Siya rolled
onto her feet, but her father’s red eyes bore down upon her.

“I am disappointed, daughter.” Menthu snatched the
base of her braid and forced her to watch as the siravants descended upon Meti.
Ill prepared and overwhelmed, Meti staggered back, leaving Haru open to be
picked off by the dark demons.

“This is only the beginning,” Menthu whispered in
her ear.

Flashing red lights of the fire trucks illuminated
the blood bath. The siravants descended upon the humans. The men were ripped
from the cab and feasted upon.

Unable to save them she sagged against Menthu’s
grip, her will to fight dying in the ruins of the warehouse.

“They deserve it, Sekhmet,” Menthu spoke. “It is
time to reunite our family.”

“Family?” Siya asked, staring at the burned out
wreckage. Any hope of a family had been lost among the ash.

Menthu cursed and shifted her in front him. His
grip tightened on her hair and he drew on her energy, weakening her further. A
black cloud burst in front of them, just as Menthu and Siya began to
dematerialize. Siya’s tearful gaze met the Underworld Lord’s stricken stare.

Asar and an entire legion.

Minutes too late.

Bomani pushed the charred debris from his face. Several
steel girders pinned his hips and lower legs. He grabbed the metal and shoved,
but the weight would not budge. The effort only served to worsen his pain. Blackness
crept around the edges of his vision, and he leaned back until the dizziness
passed.

With his eyes closed he scanned the smoke filled
void, searching for Theris’ energy signature. The structure had collapsed at
the moment he had Theris on his knees.
Damn it.
The god was spilling his
darkest secrets, confessing the ambush of Khalfani at Menthu’s order. Theris was
another recruit, just like Nebt. The War god’s network went farther than they
had ever imagined, possibly even among the Creation Council.

Bomani swore he heard Siya’s voice moments before
he was hit from above by a slab of concrete. Maybe a figment of his longing for
her before he blacked out. For how long, he did not know. A minute was too long
when Siya was at risk. He needed to get back to the temple. Too weak to
dematerialize he struggled, shifting the metal a few inches, but not enough to
free him.

Shouts echoed from above, however distant and
muffled through the wreckage of steel and cement. Bomani called out, but the
smoke choked off his words. Time passed without an answer to his pleas for
help.

“We found him,” a male shouted, closer this time.

Dust and ash fell down around him. The voices were
getting louder. Larger pieces of concrete filtered down through the layers of
broken metal. Bomani shielded his head. Grunts of males and groaning metal
echoed beyond the large concrete wall leaning over him. A large hand snaked
through a gap and grabbed Bomani’s shoulder.

“Bomani?”

Bomani recognized the voice and the scorpion
hieroglyphic etched on the male’s forearm. “Bakari,” he said, filled with a
sudden dread heavier than the weight pinning him.

“Are you hurt?”

Bomani feared this moment. His dishonor had found
him. This was not how he envisioned the reunion with his brother.

Bakari squeezed his shoulder again. “Bomani?”

“Are you here to gloat?” Bomani asked, feeling an
overwhelming amount of anger. The fact he was buried under a ton of rubble did
not help his feeling of being trapped by his past.

“I am here to save your ass,” Bakari replied, his
tone on edge. “Looks like we got here just in time.”

Bomani hissed, his pride wounded. His legs were
numb, probably crushed. Unparalleled pain raced across his skin. And the one
male he hated above all was here to drag his ass out of the fire. Fate had a
real sick sense of humor.

“I need to pull my hand out. They are lifting the
heaviest load.” Bakari squeezed Bomani’s shoulder again and slipped his hand
away.

Bomani had never felt more alone and helpless than
in the minutes following. He closed his eyes and reached out to Siya through
the bond. He needed to know she was safe. He forced his waning energy across
the thread. The frayed bond vibrated but her energy remained elusive to his
call. The emptiness was too much to bear.

A faint ripple of her fear filled Bomani’s chest.

“Siya?” He grasped onto the phantom energy.

Bomani?
A faint voice echoed in his head.
The sour scent of overwhelming panic and worse, her terror filled his senses.

Siya! Where are you?

Seconds passed without an answer. Finally, the
soft scent of flowers floated in the air around him.

I am sorry.

Tell me, damn it.

You will not be forgotten.

The wreckage shifted over his hips. Razor sharp
pain shot up his spine. Sheer agony consumed him and broke the connection.
“Siya,” he hollered with the pain.

“I have you,” Bakari said, standing over Bomani.

His brother’s face and shaved head blurred as
Bomani struggled to force the darkness from his vision.

“I need to transport you. The weight is too great
to remove it completely.”

Barely holding onto consciousness, Bomani grabbed
Bakari’s hand.

“Now,” Bakari commanded.

The weight lifted against Bomani’s legs.
Dematerializing muted the pain until Bomani reappeared on a medical gurney.
Pain shot up through his legs to his torso. He screamed, unable to contain the
explosive agony resonating from both his body and soul. A curtain of blackness
enveloped him.

Bomani floated in the darkness. He assumed this
realm was the equivalent of death for a god. Separated and lifeless. No pain.
He drifted in the black hole. Only when the light scent of vanilla and lilacs
tickled his nose, did he rouse. He had someplace to be. Someone to find, he
reminded himself.

He fought against the blackness holding him so
tightly. Small sparks ignited around him. The more he struggled the more stars
appeared in his vision. At last the veil lifted, and he stared up at the bright
light above the table.

Bomani thrashed, his lower body refusing his
commands.

“Bomani! You are safe,” Bakari shouted and pinned
Bomani’s shoulders to the bed.

Registering the pain in his body, Bomani stilled.
His brother’s hard gaze held him a moment before looking towards the foot of
the bed. Bomani followed and stared at the mangled bloody limbs unmoving on the
blanket. If not being attached to his body and draped in the pants he had been
wearing this day, Bomani would not have believed it. Despite the large light
above, blackness threatened to take him again. He sagged back on the mattress. Again
he forced his limbs to action, but they failed to move.

“Easy,” Lilly said, coming into view. “This is
going to take a while to fix.” Her delicate hands were covered in blood. Her
bright green eyes glowed with the inherited gift of life and healing. The
oldest of the Carrigan sisters and his father’s wife.

Where Lilly was, Asar was not far behind. Bomani’s
nightmare had manifested in a worst case scenario. “Get me out of here,” Bomani
said, refusing to lie flat. He jerked up, only to find Bakari’s hand planted on
his chest.

“You are not going anywhere.”

A wave of nausea and cold sweat forced Bomani to slump
back.

“Care to explain how you got mixed up with
Menthu’s daughter?” Bakari demanded.

“She is a friend,” Bomani said, knocking Bakari’s
hand away. How could he explain his relationship to Siya, let alone his deal
with Bast? No matter how many times he ran over it in his mind, it all sounded
maniacal. Not to mention, Bomani was drowning in his own hypocrisy.

“Well, your
friend
saved your life,” Lilly
said and glanced at Bakari across the bed. “Along with fifty other souls.”

Bomani jerked his head up to look at Lilly. “The
younglings are here?”

“The eldest, Dennu, brought us to the warehouse.
Told us you engaged a god named Theris,” Lilly said and cut away his torn
pants.

“Sekhmet did not tell you of her plan?” Bakari
asked with a suspicious edge to his voice.

Bomani refused to answer. Had Siya seen this
coming? Why would she not tell him? Unless, this was her way of securing his
safe return to his family.

Isis, Siya. Why?

“How long before I can walk?”

Lilly blew out a breath. “Your long bones are
shattered. You lost so much blood your innate healing is almost non-existent.
It will be a couple hours at least. If my mother wasn’t called away, it would
be a lot sooner. This is the best I can do at the moment,” she said with a
frown.

“Can you give us a few minutes?” Bakari asked.

“Sure, but not too long.” She wiped her hands on a
wet rag and grasped Bomani’s shoulder. “It is good to have you back.” Despite
her smile, sadness filled her eyes. She turned and walked out the door.

Bomani stared at the ceiling. He did not want to
be having this conversation right now, let alone being trapped in the room with
his brother. The tension between them was about as thick as the smoke from the
fire.

Hot white flames shot through his kneecaps. His
bones meshed a new network of calcium underneath his raw flesh. Bomani hissed
through gritted teeth and gripped the edge of the mattress.
Fuck.

“Father sends his apologies for not being here,”
Bakari said without looking at him.

Honestly, Bomani was relieved. Asar had always
held him to a higher standard, and right now he could not be further from his
father’s expectations. “As soon as I am able to walk, I am gone.”

Bakari’s silver gaze pinned him. “Father’s orders
are never optional.”

“We both know it would be for the best.”

Scrubbing his hand over his bare scalp, Bakari
kicked off the wall and began to pace. “What were you doing in that warehouse?”

“Terminating a threat.”

“Did you succeed?” Bakari’s words were hard and
pressed.

“Unfortunately not.” Bomani fisted his hand.
Theris slipped from his grasp the minute the roof collapsed.

“The Creation Council has asked Father to
surrender you to the Pantheon,” Bakari blurted.

Bomani rolled his head to the side to assess
whether his brother was joking. Based on the grim set of his mouth, the joke
was on Bomani. “The Creation Council? What for?”

“Murder.”

Bomani scoffed. “Theris is the piece of shit that
torched Khalfani. If I see him again, I
will
kill him.” If he could
harness his power to take Theris’ soul, Bomani would rip the life from the god.
The sooner he healed, the sooner the god would meet his end.

“The Protectors are dead, Bomani. Haru and Meti.
Bast is the only survivor, and based on how Menthu left her, death would have
been preferable. Menthu and the siravants left nothing standing.” Bakari shook
his head.

“Gods can only die at your hands, remember,”
Bomani said with a hint of jealousy and disbelief. Bomani glanced at the Mevt
daggers strapped to his brother’s chest. The very daggers that put Kepi in the
grave. Unfortunately, Kendra had been on the receiving end of one of those,
wielded by Nebt’s hand and indirectly by his own when he did nothing to stop
the Underworld traitor.

“The siravants consume souls.” Bakari paused and
met Bomani’s stare. “And everything else.”

The gravity of the news settled into Bomani’s
soul. The Protector gods were among the strongest of the Pantheon. The Creation’s
first line of defense had been massacred by a handful of siravants. The full
picture began to take shape. In the ancient war, the Creation Pantheon was
losing. They had to call upon those they despised, those of demon descent. Siya
and the Underworld legions. The Pantheon could not lose Siya to the other side,
the very reason Bast wanted her destroyed.

“I need to get out of here,” Bomani said, jerking
up. The feeling in his feet had returned, now if he could just move his legs.

“I do not think you are hearing me, brother. The
fact you were anywhere near there implicates you. As does the fact exilers sent
to Asar for judgment speak of a rouge warrior in the human realm. The Council
believes you and Sekhmet conspired with Menthu to kill the Protectors. They
have demanded your surrender to Creation authorities.”

“I do not give a fuck about the Council,” Bomani
hissed as a new wave of pain racked his body.

“Sekhmet’s immediate execution has been called
forth.” Bakari grabbed Bomani’s shoulder. “She has been compromised.”

“Siya’s compromised?”

“Calling her by a different name does not change
the fact—she is the Goddess of War and half demon. She has Menthu’s blood
running through her veins.”

“She serves the Mother Goddess and cared for the
younglings when no one else gave a shit. This is how they repay her?”

“She may not have a choice,” Bakari said and broke
his gaze.

“What in
duat
are you saying?” A renewed
sense of dread welled up in Bomani’s gut.

“Menthu snatched Sekhmet at the warehouse.”
Bakari’s expression was filled with resignation.

Remembering the distress communicated through
their bond, Bomani closed his eyes. She was trying to say goodbye. He refused
to hear it. Refused to accept it. A new level of agony settled in his chest,
the source far deeper than his useless legs.

“I am going after her,” Bomani repeated, unable to
accept the most probable outcome, losing her completely.

“Your body says otherwise.”

Bomani drew on his energy to dematerialize. His
hopes of escape fizzled when his body remained solid.

“Not going to happen. Like I said, father’s orders
stand.”

“I suppose he sent you to keep me in line,” Bomani
growled, hating being trapped.

“I asked to be here.”

Bomani stared at him in stark surprise. “Why?”

“Things are unresolved between us.”

Bomani had nothing to say to his brother. Males of
the same blood could not have been any different. After five years of torture,
Bakari claimed to be a changed male. Kendra had been the catalyst for his
recovery, a fact that still soured Bomani’s stomach.

On the other hand, Bomani’s life had changed and
not for the better. Pride and jealousy, two traits he thought himself above,
had led him down a path he was not sure how to recover from. Siya had been the
only constant brightness in his otherwise dark life, however short. He could
not let go of it, or he feared to be truly lost.

“I am not sure we have anything to say to each
other,” Bomani said without looking his brother in the eye. Despite all that
had happened, Bomani was not ready to let go of his hatred. A few months of
being righteous could not wipe away millenniums of lies and deceit.

“What is it you want from me?” Bakari snapped.
“Have I not proven my loyalty to our father, to the legion?”

“For how long will that last, brother?” Bomani
spat, inflamed by the fact Bakari had won their father’s favor after so little
time, when it took Bomani centuries to prove himself worthy. “How long before
playing the martyr gets old and you slip back to your old ways, taking Kendra
with you?”