Under Wraps: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Werewolves vs. Mummies Book 1) (16 page)

The path in front of me forked off, but they both smelled the same. I did not like this. I did not know which to pick.

It would mean splitting up to explore both or committing to one that could wind up being folly if we stuck together. I already knew what the others would decide. They would decide to split. Only… only Khufu had my friend’s soul, and he could not be trusted. He must stay with me.

Yes. I must walk with the pharaoh into the path… only which one? Which path would be correct…?

I crept forward and stared at the twin doors, one glittering like rubies cast from a fire, the other like freshly spilt blood. In the center of each door was the image of a man, the sun at his back and the moon at his front. He faced outward, hands outstretched. The same man upon both doors.

I didn’t like it.

I touched the blood door, and it felt hot and slick. I sniffed, and the smell of copper and rust came alive in my nose. No. I would not venture into the blood door. That left the other…

I touched it, and it shattered beneath my fingers, exploding into a trillion scintillating shards. They crashed to the ground with a sound so loud that it hurt my ears as it echoed across the room. One of my allies shrieked, but the sound seemed far away. Farther away than it should have. I fought the urge to turn, instead I watched the opening. My ears perked up, listening. The musky smell of snake filled my nostrils. I stared into the darkness.

Snakes or blood. Neither were good choices. I shook my head and stared. The stone beneath my feet rumbled. Fire leapt upward from the abyss. The burning geyser splashed against the ceiling and sprayed outward, painting the room in dancing flames for the space of a moment.

There was something inside the door. Just past where I could see. It had been revealed for the space of an instant. Skin black and mottled. Talons like a lion. Teeth like a crocodile. Eyes like the soul of hell itself.

It watched from beyond the door. Its smirk had been daring. “Come,” its smirk had said.

“Come, and I will feast on your heart.” The sound slipped from the tunnel, on the cusp of my hearing. It was lower than the belly of a serpent, scraping across the ground, slithering into my ears. It was a challenge, a boast. It did not think I would. “Come and I will learn how heavy your soul has become.”

“Choose blood if you dare,” it said. “Come if you wish to be judged.”

“Thes, what is it?” Sekhmet called. She wasn’t as far away now, maybe a few yards away. I listened to her move, to her hit the bottom step and come toward me.

“Something is in there. It smells like snakes and clings to the darkness.” Fire leapt again as I spoke, but the creature must have moved because I did not see it this time.

Sekhmet came to my side and rested a hand on my arm. She stared into the darkness, her face a mask of determination. “I cannot see into the depths.” She looked up at me. “Maybe we should try the other door?” She turned toward the blood door, and as she reached her hand toward it, I seized her wrist. It was so small in my grip, so puny seeming. How could this girl be a god? How could she break darkness over her knee and be scared of me? How had she held me down?

“No,” I said. I released her because I knew she would not disobey. Not now. Not here. Her fear made her weak, and I was strong. I was Alpha. I would lead.

I stepped through the doorway, and the air hit me like a dank breath. The smell of reptiles permeated every inch of the space.

“So you come, Thes Mercer?” it asked, still clinging to the darkness like a cowardly shadow.

“I come,” I replied. I strode forward unafraid. I was strong.

Something scrabbled across the stone, claws scraped at the rock. I did not turn away. I was not afraid.

“Come out and judge me,” I said. “You will not find me wanting, shadow clinger.”

“I do not cling to the shadows,” it spoke from the darkness.

“Then step forth, lest I judge you.” My lips pulled back to reveal my fangs. “I shall find you wanting.”

It struck. Quick as a flash and twice as deft. I did not move. I let it sink its teeth into my thigh. Pain like a million suns burned in my veins, but I pushed it away to die beneath the force of my will. Its paw lashed outward. I caught it, gripping it in one hand as I stared down into its beady eyes.

I struck back. I drove my claws downward. The creature screamed, gilded blood splashing across my fur. It tried to pull away, but I held it fast. “You will let me pass.” I released it, and it scurried back into the darkness.

The stink of wet gold filled the air along with its lack of response. I turned my head back toward the entrance. “Come,” I called.

Sekhmet was by my side a moment later. She glanced at my leg, but made no comment. Already it was healed over. The beast’s attack rendered meaningless.

In the distance, something whispered, and Sekhmet called forth her flame. It filled the space in front of us, banishing the darkness. The creature lay on the ground a few yards away, golden ichor spilling out from a wound on its side. It was bleeding the same blood as Sekhmet. It was bleeding god blood.

Its head was like a crocodile. Its body was huge, like a hippopotamus, but covered in golden fur like a lion. A mane fell around its head as it lay there, panting.

“Ammit,” Sekhmet said, moving past me and kneeling next to the beast. “Why are you here?”

“To see if he is worthy,” the beast replied. Its body shuddered as Sekhmet turned eyes of cold fury upon me. “He may pass.”

“Fool,” she spoke, and the word hit me in the chest, driving me to my knees. Her shadow rose up behind her like a huge towering lioness, and I was afraid. My muscles tensed, braced for her attack. I was ready for her, ready to fight, to claw, to rip…

She reached out, touching my nose lightly with her finger. “Return.”

I fell, the world spinning around me like a great sucking void. I hit the ground, my face smacking into the stone as she turned and laid one hand upon the fallen creature. Its chest shuddered again as the world went black.

Chapter 21

Khufu was carrying me across his shoulders when I awoke. I had no idea where I was, or how long I’d been unconscious. The last thing I remembered was Sekhmet touching me.

“Put me down,” I wheezed, but it was hard because my throat was dry. I licked my lips as Khufu swiveled his big head toward me.

Without saying a word, he dropped me. I hit the ground hard and pain rocketed through my limbs. I lay there, unable to do more than breathe as Aziza turned and stared at me, an odd expression on her face. Ahead of her, Sekhmet had stopped, but she hadn’t deigned to so much as turn around and look at me.

“What’d you do that for?” I asked, slowly getting to my feet.

“Why did I put you down like you asked me to do?” Khufu raised an eyebrow at me. “Would you rather I didn’t comply with your orders?” He shrugged. “Got it, next time I’ll ignore you completely. Done and done.”

He made a washing motion with his hands before spinning on his heel and striding past Aziza. When he reached Sekhmet, he touched her arm lightly before moving past her. Still, the goddess did not move, remaining so still that it was like she’d become a statue.

“Okay…” I said, not quite sure why everyone was so angry at me. Hadn’t I saved everyone from the skeleton hands and defeated the monster in the tunnel? “What’s going on?”

“You almost killed Ammit,” Aziza said, still staring at me. Her voice was like mouse whispers. soft and scurrying over the distance between us.

“Was that the thing in the tunnel?” I asked, walking up to her. She shied away, taking a step backward before catching herself and holding her ground.

“Yes.” She followed up the word by nodding at me.

“So?” I asked. “Wasn’t he a bad guy?”

“I never can tell exactly how much you know about our culture, Thes. Do you even know who Ammit is?” She suppressed a smile so that her lips were a thin line with the very edges turned up.

“I’ll take no for one hundred,” I replied, smiling at her.

“I’m going to guess that just means you don’t.” She sighed and rubbed her face with one hand. “Ammit is divine justice given form. Think about that for a second. You almost killed the embodiment of the gods’ retribution.”

“Um… okay?” I swallowed. “That’s bad why?”

“Because you shouldn’t have been able to do it,” Sekhmet said, though she still hadn’t bothered to look at me. “That thing you became, that form… it reminds me of someone I knew long ago.” She shook her head minutely. “Thes, you should not be able to go toe to toe with a being like Ammit. He should have judged you and found you wanting. Not the other way around.”

“Uh… why? Khufu dropped you pretty easily, and you’re a god.” Aziza stepped out of the way as I spoke, presumably so she wouldn’t be between me and the warrior goddess. It was probably a wise decision. I wouldn’t want to be between Sekhmet and her prey.

“It isn’t even close to the same,” Sekhmet replied, and as she stared at me, I had to try very hard not to find a place to scurry into and hide. “I was not always a god. I was once mortal like you. I was one of the Menhit, a caste of warriors given power in accordance to the creatures we were created to fight.” She whipped out her hand and a glowing bow appeared in it. Flame licked across its surface so that it looked like it was hewn from fire. “This was my weapon, Nesert. In your tongue it means ‘the flame,’ and from it, I rained down arrows of sun fire upon my enemies. Long ago, it was inhabited by Hathor herself.”

She turned and faced me, the bow still clasped in her hand as she stepped up to me and looked into my face. “I was mortal once and became a deity thanks to Ra. My power is an extension of his now. It is entirely different from Ammit. Ammit is a primordial force, Thes. Killing him like killing good or cold or love. It shouldn’t be able to be done.” That’s when I realized her lips were trembling and gooseflesh had risen on her arms.

“And it scares you that I almost did it.” I nodded once. “But does it scare you more because it was me or because it nearly happened.” I stopped, shaking my head. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant was if Khufu or Aziza had done it, would you be this scared?”

“Thes, what you’re not understanding is that they couldn’t have done it. Only
you
could do it, and I do not understand how.” She swallowed, and I had the urge to pull her against me, to hug her until she felt better, and I didn’t really know why. I wasn’t exactly the comforting type, and she was the god of war. Wanting to comfort her was silly, right?

“After you hurt Ammit, Sekhmet and I were able to heal him, and just to experiment, Khufu struck him with his full might in the same spot,” Aziza said, her voice quiet, like she was trying very hard not to be intrusive.

“My weapon shattered into dust, and the reverberation damn near broke my arm,” Khufu called over his shoulder. “And not only did you nearly rip him in half with your bare hand, but you healed the wound he gave you like it was nothing.”

“Whatever you are, Thes, it’s strong. You need to keep it in check,” Aziza said and this time fear threaded into her words. “You can’t let it have control.”

“It’s not that, you fools,” Sekhmet cried, and her voice smashed into the walls around us and filled the huge hallway until it was nearly bursting. “You do not understand how the world, how the Menhit operate. See, we’re strong, but we’re only strong in proportion to our threats. The universe strives for balance. Monsters get strong so the Menhit get stronger, it goes on endlessly. So, Thes, think about something. Think about what Menhit you have been around that was so strong the forces of balance would propel you to such power that you could hurt a creature like Ammit.” She swallowed, waving away that thought as though it was nothing. “Then think about what is so powerful, it requires a Menhit that powerful to stop it.”

She reached out and touched me lightly, the very tips of her fingers brushing along my arm. No sooner had she done so, she jerked her hand back like she’d been bitten. Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth sort of fell open. “No…”

She backed away from me, tripped and fell on her butt. “He can’t be back…”

She stared at me, not moving as Aziza and Khufu came toward us warily. They looked from the suddenly incoherent Sekhmet to me and back again in a strange sort of swivel that made a bad feeling settle in my stomach. If what she was telling me was true, had my wolf finally been able to communicate with me because I’d met a really powerful Menhit. Only… only I only knew one.

Lillim.

Was Lillim really
that
powerful? Was she so powerful that Sekhmet would be scared of her? She was strong, yeah, but this strong… no… So did I know someone else? Was there another of them that I knew, another who was this strong?

“Sekhmet, what’s wrong?” I asked, swallowing back the fear rising inside me. Menhit were created to kill things like me. They were the boogeymen to werewolves, as well as everyone else, so who was the universe was boosting me up to fight? And… and was I supposed to stop him? Was I the natural counter balance to…

“He Who Cannot Be Named has returned in your time, Thes.” Sekhmet’s voice was barely a whisper. “How could he be back?” She stood, the movement jerky and sudden. She grabbed me by the shirt with both hands and pulled me down so she was peering directly into my face.

Her eyes were filled with fear, no, far worse than that, they were filled with hysteria. “It took the combined might of the Menhit to stop him last time. And even then, it was only because the gods stepped in to help. I fought him, not as a Menhit, but as a deity. I was nearly at my full strength, and I was but a fly before him.”

She swallowed and looked away. “And somehow he is back, and as he comes into contact with creatures, they turn into
you!
He is even stronger than I remember.”

She flopped down on the ground and began sobbing. It was the most disconcerting thing I’d ever seen. Imagine standing before one of the most powerful, one of the most feared Egyptian deities, and she gets so scared she starts crying, actually crying. Let’s just say it was not a huge boost of confidence.