Twilight Prophecy

18


By the time he finished his third plate of food, Lucy was relieved to see Utanapishtim finally beginning to slow down. Maybe his stomach was nearing maximum capacity. She had cooked almost everything in the galley and was honestly running out of options. They were only about an hour from the island, and the sun was rising far away on the eastern horizon, a fiery red-orange ball just beginning to emerge as if from the watery depths.

Utanapishtim set his food aside as he caught sight of the sun. His eyes took on a distant, reverent look, and he rose from his chair and moved to the rail. Facing the rising sun, he opened his arms wide and began to speak in an ancient Sumerian dialect. His tone was different from when he spoke to either of them. It was softer, submissive, maybe even fearful. Brushstrokes of blazing yellow and orange painted his face in light. Tears dampened his velvet black lashes as he stared into the sunrise.

“Utu agrunta è-ani, igisha ganeshè…”

“What’s he saying?” James asked, leaning closer to Lucy and speaking very softly.

“This is amazing,” she whispered. “Hearing it spoken—God, I never imagined… This is beyond belief.”

“Yes, I know, but what is he saying?”

Lucy strained to understand the words, seeing them phonetically in her mind, trying to recall translations.

“It’s hard, I’m used to translating from looking at the text, not hearing it aloud.”

“Igi sha gane shè hé-em shi bar re…”

“It’s a prayer—to the sun god, Utu,” she whispered.

“May the sun god, rising from the watery deep…um…open his beautiful eye upon me. When the king raises his head…to heaven, may all praise him duly when he lifts his eyes…and his glance flashes…like lightning.”

Utanapishtim lowered his hands, folded his arms across his chest, forming an X over his heart, a fist on each shoulder, and he bowed his head. Then he stood in silence for a moment.

“We have to be careful with him, James,” Lucy whispered. “He still sees himself as a king, the chosen one of the gods. And we have no idea what powers he has.”

“I know a few.”

She shot James a look, her eyes wide. “You do?”

“Lucy, it’s amazing. He can absorb knowledge, everything contained in a book—or even a device—just by laying his hands on it.”

“What do you mean, even a device?” she asked.

“He put his hands on the TV for five seconds, and then he was using the remote and channel surfing.

And I’ve been watching him touch things. He’s been through every book in the library. He’s touched the engines of this boat.”

“My God, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah, and it’s not all. He keeps trying to touch me, Lucy, but I’ve been dodging him.”

“Why?”

“He said he could absorb words, information, knowledge…and…power.”

She frowned, seeing the worry in James’s eyes.

“You realize his English is—”

“Amazing, and getting better by the minute,” James said. “Not perfect, though, so I’m guessing it’s the ideas, information, rather than grammar and syntax, he absorbs from the books. But before that, when I told him I’d used my healing power to raise him, he asked me to give my power to him, and when I said I couldn’t, he said he would take it and he came at me.”

She frowned hard, shooting another look at Utanapishtim. “How did you avoid him?”

“Threatened to put him right back in that damned statue. I was bluffing, but apparently I’ve got a good poker face.”

“Hell.” She thinned her lips. “He could be dangerous.”

“I have no doubt he is,” James said. “We’ve just got to get him on our side—and find out what other powers he has.”

“And what his vulnerabilities are, as well,” Lucy added. “The sun clearly isn’t one of them.” She found it very odd that she could so easily take her eyes from a man who was a walking, talking archaeological find and yet get so easily trapped in James’s deep blue eyes. She was lost there then, though he was unaware of it.

“If anything, he seems to be drawing strength from it,” he said, watching Utanapishtim and in the process giving her time to adjust her focus before he caught her staring at him in what probably looked like abject adoration.

She shook it off. “We need to get him to the island. He’ll have time to get his bearings today, before everyone rises. And by nightfall maybe we’ll have softened him up about whether to help us or not. And then, once he meets them, they’ll win him over. Just like they did me.”

“I agree.”

She was staring at him again. Dammit.

He must have sensed her gaze, because he met it faster than she could look away, and his lips pulled into a tender smile. “We really did it, didn’t we?”

“We? You did it, James. I was barely any help at all.”

He shook his head slowly, pressing a palm to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you. If I manage to save my people, Lucy, it will be because you helped me. I wouldn’t even have known where to find Utanapishtim’s remains without your help. I can’t begin to figure out a way to thank you.”

She felt her blood rushing to her face and had to lower her eyes. But her smile would not be contained.

“We’re not finished yet, James. But I promise, when all this is over, I will come up with a way for you to repay me.”

“It won’t be enough.”

She raised her head again and met his eyes as he went on.

“Whatever you ask for, it won’t be enough,” he said, and his eyes were darkening, sliding over her face and lingering on her lips. He bent closer, his lips brushing hers, and she swayed against his body.

Utanapishtim shouted as if in pain.

They pulled apart, startled. The old one was holding his head between his hands, his eyes closed tightly.

“By the teeth of Enki, what is that?”

They rushed to his side. “Tell me what’s happening to you, Utanapishtim,” James said, his tone respectful but strong.

“Pain. Cries. Shouts. Voices, many voices. Entire worlds shout my ears all together. It…aiee, it loud!”

“We’re nearer the mainland than we’ve been so far,” Lucy said. They were moving alongside a peninsula jutting out from the mainland, and the island was just beyond.

“They die! They burning! I feel they pain!” Utanapishtim shouted.

“It’s the vampires!” James shouted. “The ones being burned in their homes. They’re his offspring, and he’s connected mentally.”

Utanapishtim had fallen to his knees by then, and James fell beside him, put his hands on the man’s shoulders—in spite of the risk, Lucy thought in awe—and closed his eyes. “Focus on me, Utanapishtim. Maybe I can help you.”

As Utanapishtim opened his eyes and met James’s steady gaze, Lucy saw James’s expression change from worry and concern to extreme pain. Whatever Utanapishtim was feeling, James was feeling it, too.

James grimaced in pain, but, grating his teeth, he managed to whisper, “Hundreds of them are dying by fire. Some…burning alive. Others running from the buildings into the killing rays of the rising sun. And Brigit—”

“Brigit?” Lucy slid a hand over the nape of James’s neck. “Where is Brigit? What’s happening to her?”

But James only grunted in pain, and then his hands began to glow. He looked down at them, where they were pressed to Utanapishtim’s shoulders, and he seemed surprised. He moved to pull them away, but Utanapishtim closed his own hands over them, holding them there.

The glow brightened, and then it died as James broke free, stumbling away from the big man and falling to the deck.

“What just happened, James?” Lucy asked.

Breathless, he said, “I don’t know.”

The sun rose higher, Utanapishtim’s face easing as his tense muscles uncoiled. He sank to the deck beside James, his back against the railing. Lucy crouched in front of him.

“It’s over,” James said. “It’s over. The voices have stopped.”

He addressed Utanapishtim. “Those were the voices of your offspring, Utanapishtim. Your people. My people. But now it’s day. They must sleep by day, and their voices go silent until nightfall. By then, I will have taught you how to block out the voices you do not wish to hear.”

Utanapishtim nodded, still holding his head as if it ached. “But they…burning.”

“Yes.”

“Explain,” Utanapishtim commanded.

Nodding, James said, “Humans, ordinary men, have learned of the existence of the vampires—your children, Utanapishtim—for the first time. Some want to wipe your people from existence, and so they wait for sunrise, when your children are helpless, and then they set fire to their homes. Even by day, a vampire will wake when being burned alive. He will feel the pain until he has burned to dust and nothing remains. It is…it is quick. But it is a horrible death, all the same.”

Utanapishtim lowered his head and held up a fore finger. “One voice calls for help, still.”

“Yes, I hear it, too. It’s my sister’s voice. It’s Brigit.”

Lucy went rigid. “Where is she, James?”

“That way,” he said, lifting an arm and pointing away from the sunrise, toward the hazy coastline visible in the distance. “The mainland.”

Lucy raced up the steps onto the bridge, right up to the helm, and hoped she’d picked up enough from watching James and Willem to pilot the yacht herself.

She pushed the throttle forward.

As the wind blew her hair behind her, she wondered who this woman was, coming to life inside her?

Because she was angry, whoever she was. Angry and ready to fight to protect Brigit, a woman she barely knew, and to avenge the innocent dead.

Something new and exciting was happening inside her. Something far removed from the cowering, frightened woman she had been before. The one who hid from trouble, avoided confrontation and protected herself above all else.

As she looked below and met James’s eyes as he stared up at her from the deck, she thought he had a lot to do with the changes going on inside her. He was a hero in his own time. The kind of man who would become a legend, the kind they would write stories and songs about in the future. He was the salvation of his kind, even though his kind were a kind she’d never known existed.

He was amazing. And he made her want to be amazing, too. More than that, he was looking at her as if he thought she already was. But she knew she wasn’t. She wanted to be, though. She wanted to be worthy of the look in his eyes. She didn’t think she ever had been, never in her life. And she wondered if she was kidding herself to think she could ever be worthy of standing beside a man like him.

And that was sad beyond measure. Because even though he was different, not quite human, she was pretty sure she was in love with him.

Lucy piloted the boat with James watching over her, correcting her errors, giving instructions. But mostly he and Utanapishtim focused on their sense of Brigit. They sat side by side, only acknowledging her when she needed to correct course, and then often only by lifting an arm, pointing a finger. Lucy was almost jealous of the connection James and Brigit seemed to share. She’d been feeling her own burgeoning bond with James, but this was different. This was a bond of blood and more. It went to the cellular level. They were family, those two. And their bond was far stronger than the link she shared with James because of the Belladonna Antigen.

She couldn’t read his thoughts. He could read hers, though, she reminded herself. Sure, he’d promised he wouldn’t pry, and she believed him. Still, she carefully avoided thinking too much about her feelings for him or, God forbid, the L word. Even though he was far too busy right now to notice either of those things floating around inside her mind.

As they neared shore, she looked for a suitable place to leave the yacht, and spotted a rocky outcropping that seemed isolated and a bit wild. A lighthouse stood there, but there was no town close at hand.

“I’m going to take us in there,” she said, pointing.

James finally blinked out of his stupor long enough to meet her eyes, and then to look where she was pointing.

“No, don’t. There’s a lighthouse, so there’ll be rocks too. We’re better off anchoring farther off shore. We can take the dinghy in.”

She nodded and reduced speed, finally cutting the engine altogether when he signaled that she’d gone far enough.

Then, James turned to Utanapishtim. “This is a different world than you have ever known, Utanapishtim. More importantly, it’s a world at war—anyone who appears different is under suspicion and liable to be attacked. And you’re dressed…in a way that makes you stand out. It would be better for you to stay here, to wait for us to return with Brigit.”

Utanapishtim met his eyes, looking stunned. “What king will…hide…safe, while his soldiers fight?”

“Actually, all of them, nowadays,” Lucy muttered. “But it wasn’t the case in your time, was it?”

“In my time, you, woman, would to be stayed behind. Safe.”

“I’ve spent most of my life staying safe,” she said. And then she shot a look James’s way. “No more.”

James stared at her, searching her face as if sensing a change.

And he ought to. She felt as if her entire worldview were in the midst of a great upheaval, the results of which were only beginning to settle in, changing who she was, what she was, right to the marrow.

“Make no mistake, Lucy, I will keep you safe.” He almost reached for her, but his hand paused in midair, and he glanced at Utanapishtim. “Would you at least consider changing your clothes? Dressing as I do?” The look on Utanapishtim’s face answered for him, and James gave up. “Let’s stick together, then. All three of us.”

Utanapishtim grunted his assent.

They beached the dinghy near the lighthouse, dragging it up onto the rocky shore, leaving it behind several large boulders that, James thought, would shield it from view from almost all directions. And then they trekked inland, keeping to the wooded areas. He felt his sister’s fiery energy as he hiked farther, and soon he sensed that she wasn’t far away, having made her way to the coast as best she could. She was hurting, and she was furious, and she was not alone. Those were the things he managed to pick up from her as he moved closer.

But he was worried.

With a hand on his shoulder, Lucy asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Brigit. She’s beaming her location to me openly, with every bit of mental power she possesses, in spite of the moratorium our people have placed on open telepathy.”

Utanapishtim was looking at him, questions in his eyes.

“Others…find her?” he asked.

“Yes, others might. There are humans who possess the power of telepathy. Only a few, but they do exist.” He stared off into the distance. “I just hope to God none of them are picking up on Brigit’s vibe and coming after her. Or if they are, I hope we get there first.”

“Why…hu-muns…hate so the vahmpeers?”

“Because they fear us,” James said.

“Make…no…reason.” Utanapishtim seemed doubtful.

James didn’t blame him for his skepticism. It took two sides to fight a war, and Utanapishtim must assume that he was getting only half the story. The undead weren’t entirely blameless. There had been plenty of incidents when the vampires had not been as innocent as James had chosen to depict them. But he had reasons for not bringing up every infraction.

He needed Utanapishtim on their side.

And he sensed he might be losing the man.

Then he was distracted by another matter entirely.

His twin sister was near. He felt her, and then he looked up ahead and he knew. He pointed to an abandoned church, which was only a mile or two from where Will and Sarafina’s home had stood. “She’s in there.”

“There?” Utanapishtim said, pointing, too. “Is…temple?”

“Yes. A place of worship.”

“Is…?” Utanapishtim held up his thumb and forefinger. “Small. What god…live there?”

“None of the gods you knew,” James said. “The people today worship different gods.”

Utanapishtim stared at the church, at its steeple. “Then…why Anu has not…?” He pounded his fist into his open palm. “Struck down it?”

Lucy put a calming hand on his arm. “This land is far from the land of Anu and the Anunaki, Utanapishtim. This is a temple to one of the gods of this land.”

He nodded, clearly mulling that over, as the three of them approached the front door of the abandoned church.

And then it flew open and Brigit flung herself into James’s arms, weeping. Shaking, too, so hard that it frightened him. He closed his arms around her, lifting her off her feet, feeling her pain and bleeding with it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

Sniffling, she pulled away just far enough to meet his eyes. Her face was smeared in black, her clothes scorched, torn and sooty. The skin had peeled off her forearm in one place, and there were angry pink patches on her hands and neck, as well.

“God, I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too.” He looked nervously behind them. It was daylight, and there were clearly people after her. “Get back inside. Come on, so I can tend to your wounds.” He set her down, then saw her finally notice his companions, even while stepping aside to let them pass.

“Professor Lucy. I’m surprised you’re still around.” And then she glanced at Utanapishtim, and her eyes seemed to get stuck on him. James watched her take him in from head to toe, saw her noting his odd attire before she seemed unable to look away from his face.

“You…you’re…” She managed to dart a quick glance at James. “Is he…?”

“Ziasudra, otherwise known as Utanapishtim,” James said.

“No shit.” Brigit closed the church door after the three of them went inside, and then she moved closer to the huge man. She lifted a hand to touch his face, though her words were for James. “I can’t believe…you actually did it.”

Utanapishtim let her touch, did not back away, but he held her eyes. “I did not give you permission to touch me, woman.”

She grinned at him. “Feisty, isn’t he?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk about him as if he isn’t here, Brigit,” Lucy suggested. “He’s a king, and also sort of your forebearer.”

“True enough.” Brigit lowered her head in the barest mockery of a bow. “Your highness,” she said.

“I do not know…highness.” And then Utanapishtim winced and backed away from her. “You are…pain. I—I tire of…suffering.”

“Come on, Bridge,” James said, leading her to the nearest pew and telling her to lie down. He held his hands over her, vaguely aware of Lucy and Utanapishtim walking farther into the church, looking around curiously. “Tell me what happened while I work,” he told her.

“I drafted a lot of vamps to help me out.”

“The resistance, I know.” His palms weren’t tingling, weren’t glowing. He rubbed them together rapidly, until they grew warm, and tried again.

“The idea was,” Brigit said, “to start giving these mortal vigilantes a taste of their own medicine, but the cowards only attack by day. So what good is a resistance made up of creatures who can only fight by night? Dammit, I need humans, not vampires, and I don’t have any.”

“Where are they now? Your soldiers?”

His hands still weren’t glowing. She sat up, gripping his wrists and turning his hands upward. “Having trouble, bro?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong.”

She shrugged. “We heal rapidly anyway, you and I. Look, it’s already getting better. Give me an hour, I’ll be good as new.”

But James was troubled. And he kept thinking of when Utanapishtim had fallen on the deck of the Nightshade and had held James’s hands to him. He looked up at the man, who was standing nearby, watching them curiously, met his eyes, tried to see any sign of guilt there, not that Utanapishtim would be likely to feel any. But James has no doubt, the bastard had stolen his power.

And then Brigit caught his attention with a single word.

“Gone,” she whispered.

His eyes shot back to hers. “Your entire team?”

“Nearly.” She lowered her head then, and he knew she was trying to hide her tears. But she couldn’t hide anything from him. “We were holed up in an abandoned house, and the a*sholes burned it. I don’t even know how they knew we were there. We lost a dozen good people. I managed to carry four of them out before the flames got too bad, but they were badly burned, too, between the damn inferno and the sun.”

“And the vigilantes?” he asked, noting that Utanapishtim was coming closer now. The resurrected king was watching Brigit’s every move, listening intently to her every word, fascination in his black eyes.

“I sploded ’em,” Brigit said, using their childhood term for her destructive gift. “That’s one—”

Utanapishtim held up a hand, interrupting her. “I know not…sploded. What means it?”

“As I started to say,” Brigit went on, irritated, “that’s one gang down, about twenty to go, and that’s just in the Northeast. They’re popping up all over the place. I’ll get them all as soon as I get enough intel to know where to look.”

“Intel…?” Utanapishtim asked.

Brigit ignored him and kept talking. “I kept the leader alive. He’s in the basement, tied up and trembling, surrounded by sleeping vampires who’d just as soon drain him dry as look at him.”

“You take prisoner. Leader. This wise, for female.

Now, say me what means sploded,” Utanapishtim ordered.

James looked at his hands and wondered how the hell he was going to regain what Utanapishtim had taken from him. “Don’t tell him, Bridge.”

Ignoring the warning, Brigit said, “Okay, watch this, King Tut.” She pointed at a lectern standing in the corner of the church, and then she turned her hand, palm up, touched her fingers lightly to her thumb and then, as she flicked them open, a beam shot from her eyes, following the direction of her fingertips and the lectern exploded into a thousand bits.

From the far side of the church, Lucy shrieked and jumped. “Shit, Brigit, give a little warning, would you?”

“Sorry, Prof.” Brigit looked at Utanapishtim. “That was just a little one. I can cause a lot more damage if I want to.”

He nodded. “This I know… You not only one have power of splode.”

Brigit grinned. “You’ve known others?” she asked.

“One other.” He shifted his eyes to James. “This place…not safe, James. I feel—”

“I feel it, too,” Brigit said, turning her head, looking around.

“It’s daylight,” James said. “We can’t move your four sleeping soldiers until dark. Not safely.”

“Maybe we can.” Lucy, who had been wandering around the church, exploring, held a length of green canvas in her hands. “There are several of these tarps back here. Apparently they used them to cover the organ. If we wrap the vamps up, we can each carry one of them to the dinghy. Just like we did when we took Sarafina and the others out of that cave after the fire. You say there are four vampires here, Brigit?”

“Yes, fighters, too. Two male, two female.” Brigit eyed Lucy. “And while I’m sure that James and I and Utanapishtim can each manage to carry one, I doubt you can. You don’t have preternatural strength like we do.”

“You have hu-mun prisoner,” Utanapishtim said.

“Make him carry.”

Brigit lifted her brows at him. “Good thinking, Kong.”

He made a fist and thudded it against his own chest. “Utanapishtim.”

Brigit shrugged. “Whatev. C’mon, they’re this way.”

She led them through a door beyond the nave, which led to a very rickety and dusty flight of steps leading down into utter darkness. James followed directly behind her, then turned to call up to Lucy, “Be careful, it’s very dark.”

“I’ll just wait at the top, then,” she said softly.

He thought there was something odd in her voice, then realized what it was. She was getting tired of being the only one of them without any sort of supernatural ability. He supposed he could understand that, even though he’d been determined to exist in complete denial of the powers he possessed, with the exception of his power to heal.

A power he’d lost. The reality of that ached in his chest, but he had no time, just now, for grieving.

He continued down the stairs and saw a man, a mortal, tied to a chair. He was a man James had seen before. Just a glimpse, though, as they’d sped away from the scene of the shooting at Studio Three. He had a scar running from the outer corner of his left eye, down across his cheek, to the center of his chin, and pale gray eyes. He was not a redneck, and he was not uninformed about vampires, nor acting out of fear or ignorance.

He was DPI.