Apep walked through Times Square, his entire body thrumming with power. The news of the airport closures had the massive city on edge. A few hours ago, he’d drowned in the ecstasy of pure chaos erupting around him. The minute the lights went out, screaming pierced his ears. People were trampled, injuries, sirens, flashlights, sobbing children…
Delectible.
But empty. The same thrill he’d been surviving on for the past millennia. He wanted more, and that woman from San Diego held the key.
He needed the immortal child. Alive. Once the child’s life was in his hands, the entire Night Walker race would be his to command. Their collective fates rested in the survival of the infant. He would wield their power against the humans until they bowed to him. Instead of feeding off of chaos like a hungry leech, they would know his name. He would no longer be a shadow in their nightmares, but a power to be worshipped and feared. He wouldn’t need to stoop to their level and cause chaos.
Their constant fear would feed him, and he was gluttonous.
A god every bit as powerful as those who spat him into this world of men.
Tourists milled around him, whispering about possible terrorist attacks. Police officers were alert and punchy, just the way he liked them. Adrenaline hung heavy in the air, teasing his dangerous desires, foreplay.
His dark eyes slid up the tall buildings that surrounded the open square. So many places to search for the woman and the codex. As long as the sun ruled the sky, she remained vulnerable. The God of the West would be unable to shield her.
But her mind was still closed to his suggestions, his control. He’d be forced to search for her from building to building.
He cracked his neck and made his way toward the large Marriott. One hotel at a time. Fuck.
People milled around the ground floor, grumbling about all the hotels being full due to the airport closures. He focused his attention on a trashcan twenty feet down the hall outside the restroom. His powers usually weakened the farther away from the target he stood, but after the excess of chaos he experienced at the airports, as long as he could see it, he could manipulate the molecules.
Storm clouds gathered in his eyes, and gradually, a tendril of smoke rose from the trashcan. His lips curved into a smirk as he made his way across the lobby to his next target. After the third can ignited, a fire alarm blared, strobe lights flashing in every hallway. Mission accomplished.
An amplified announcement piped through the hotel, warning guests to quietly and calmly evacuate the building. Apep snarled at the soothing voice and grabbed a cardboard drink carrier and a discarded newspaper from another can outside Starbucks. He took the garbage to the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened and hotel guests flooded out in a stampede of fear.
He stepped inside and dropped the smoldering cardboard, then laid the newspaper over the top. With a glare, the paper browned at the edges. He blew out a breath to coax it into a flame and stepped out, watching the fire billow as the doors closed. It wouldn’t set the building on fire, but it should set off more alarms, create more panic to get the guests outside. He needed them all flushed out so he could watch for the La Deaux woman.
Once the Marriott finally emptied, he scanned the masses for his quarry. She wasn’t there. Emptying a large hotel was more time-consuming than he anticipated. It would be a race for him to find her before sundown, but he had every intention of winning.
The Hilton would be next, then the InterContinental and the Millennium.
Muriah bolted awake at the sound of the fire alarm. Crap. She glanced at the clock. At least a half hour before the sun would go down. I’m screwed.
She ran to the door of the suite and pressed her palm to the surface. No heat. Yet. A voice came over the hotel sound system, informing the guests to leave behind their belongings and calmly evacuate until hotel staff could determine the source of the alarm.
Calmly evacuate. Good luck with that.
The constant screeching of the alarm grated on her nerves. She approached the bathroom, doing her best not to sink into panic. Maybe she could wake Issa somehow. Lukas had never mentioned if waking early was possible, but she had to try.
Sure he’d snooped around her memories without her permission and pissed her off royally, but leaving him behind in a burning building wasn’t an option.
She rapped on the bathroom door, praying she’d hear his deep voice. There had to be some way to wake him. He didn’t reply.
Muriah slipped inside, closing the door before any afternoon sunlight assaulted her sleeping Night Walker. The sleeping Night Walker. Flipping on the light, she flinched at the sudden site of her deathly still travel companion.
This was the same man who weakened her knees with a kiss. The same man she nourished with the blood in her veins. The constant pulse of the screeching fire alarm faded from her awareness as she reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold. A shiver crept down her spine.
She patted his cheeks. “Issa? You’ve got to wake up. There’s a fire.”
Not even a single breath passed through his lips. Muriah groaned, straightening up to look around the room. The shower head caught her eye. It’d be a horrible way to wake up, but at least he’d be awake.
She stretched her arm over him and turned the faucet to cold, then pulled the handle up to send the water cascading down onto Issa’s body, soaking him in cold water. She patted his face again. Nothing.
“Shit.” She turned off the shower. How was she going to get him out of the hotel?
Her gaze stopped on her duffel bag. A luggage cart. She could get him on a cart and cover it with the comforter. He’d be safe from the sun and she’d be able to wheel him out of the hotel without anyone noticing.
She raced for the phone and buzzed the front desk. Please answer, please answer, please.
Finally, a man’s voice came through. “You need to evacuate now. This is not a test.”
“I get that, but I…” She glanced at the bathroom door. She couldn’t tell him she had a Mayan god in her tub. “I need a luggage cart.”
“You’ll have to leave your luggage behind. It’s urgent that you evacuate now.”
Shit. “Look, I have someone up here that needs assistance to get out, if I could just get a cart I could—”
“Are they handicapped?”
Muriah shrugged, and nodded. “Something like that.”
“We’ll send an emergency crew to your room. Stay inside and remain calm.”
She hung up, cursing under her breath, and went back in the bathroom. Maybe she could drag him out. She grabbed him under each arm, counted to three, and tugged. Dead weight. Bad pun, but it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t budging.
The alarm continued to screech.
She needed a luggage cart, not an emergency crew. Muriah glanced at Issa. How would she explain his lack of a pulse? Damn it.
The constant repetition of the fire alarm screeching, combined with risking exposure of the Night Walker race to the rest of the world, was driving her insane. Maybe she could find a cart somewhere on her floor.
It was better than waiting inside the room. She had to do something.
She opened the door and shoved a rolled-up towel against the frame to keep the door ajar. She didn’t know how hotel locks worked, but she wasn’t going to risk closing the door in case her key card stopped working due to a power outage from the fire.
The scent of smoke polluted her lungs, but it wasn’t thick enough to sting her eyes. Good sign. The fire must not be on their floor. Yet.
Running toward the elevator, she sent up a silent prayer for anything with wheels that she might be able to transport Issa on. Nothing on the landing. Her heart sank. Okay, time for plan B. She pressed all the buttons and held her breath. The elevator dinged and another drop of adrenaline laced her bloodstream. This could be the fire crew coming to help.
Before she could think up a viable excuse to explain Issa’s lack of a pulse, the doors opened to a shell-shocked couple holding washcloths over their noses and mouths. It was what was behind them that made Muriah rush into the elevator.
Their bags were stacked neatly onto a large, brass luggage cart. Without hesitation, Muriah started unloading their bags.
The man lowered his makeshift mask, frowning. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Muriah placed the last bag on the ground and hit the button on the elevator to hold the door open. “I’ve got a roommate with…mobility issues. I need this cart more than your luggage does.”
She held his gaze, daring him to challenge her. Finally, he put the washcloth back over his nose and mouth with a nod and Muriah shoved the cart free of the elevator. Hazy images of bags and even a dead body filled her head. Usually, newer items didn’t have history to share with her, but this was a well-used cart. At least she wouldn’t be journeying far back in time. Those were the psychometric visions that made her feel like her brain might leak out her ears.
Muriah pushed faster. The loud rattle of the wheels took her mind off the pictures in her head. Once she maneuvered it inside the room, she realized there was one missing piece to her plan.
“Dammit.” She smacked her hand against the wall. There was no way she could lift Issa out of the tub and onto the cart all by herself. Groaning, tears of frustration burned her eyes. “Shit.”
Back in the hallway, she scanned for any sign of another person, or the rescuers the front desk had promised. There had to be someone. She ran from room to room, knocking on every door. Nearing the elevator, knuckles aching, a door finally cracked open.
A bewildered, shirtless, middle-aged man stared at her. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Muriah jammed her foot in the door opening, hoping it would keep him from slamming it in her face. “I need your help. My friend is passed out, and I need help to lift him onto a cart so we can get downstairs.”
The man unlatched the security chain and poked his head out, peering each way like he expected traffic or something. Satisfied, he met Muriah’s eyes. “Give me a second.”
He vanished, but Muriah kept her foot in the doorway. When he came back, he had a shirt on that reeked of cannabis. She raised a brow. “Getting high inside a burning building instead of evacuating seems risky.”
“I’m dead either way.” He followed her down the hall.
“No one will kill you over a stash of pot.”
“The pot is mine. It’s the rest of the stuff that’s worth more than my life.”
None of my business. She glanced over her shoulder to be sure her unlikely assistant was behind her as she pushed the door open. “I’m just glad you were still here.”
Inside the bathroom, he hesitated. “He’s wet.”
“I was trying to wake him up.”
The man let out a nervous chuckle. “Bad trip, huh?”
“Just too much to drink.” She reached for Issa’s ankles. “Can you grab his shoulders, and we’ll get him onto the luggage cart?”
He bent down, sliding his hands under Issa’s arms. He frowned. “This guy’s really cold. Have you checked to be sure he’s still…alive?”
“Of course he’s alive.” She lied, already walking toward the cart.
Her assistant didn’t look convinced, but he followed her anyway, bearing the bulk of Issa’s weight. With the Night Walker folded up on the bottom of the luggage cart, Muriah could finally breathe again. “Thank you.”
“You never saw me.” The man was already at the door.
“Who?” She answered. He smiled and jogged away.
Muriah stripped the sheets from the bed and tucked them around her immortal package. She had no idea if it would be enough to protect him from the setting sun, but it had to be better than a fire.
She grabbed her duffle, double-checking to be sure the codex was still safe inside. About fifteen minutes to sunset. Time to go.
The cart gained momentum with each stride on the carpeted floor. The fire safety signs warned about taking the stairs instead of the elevators, but there was no way she’d get that cart down from the fourteenth floor. She’d have to risk it.
When the elevator opened, a lone, wide-eyed woman stood pressed against the back corner. Muriah nodded to her, shoved the cart over the threshold, and hit the button for the lobby.
The luggage-less woman stared at her with suspicious eyes. “They said to leave everything behind. No luggage is worth your life.”
Muriah turned to watch the numbers change above the door. “Spout your judgment someplace else. I’m saving a friend from a fire.”
The doors opened to a fogbank of smoke and beams of flashlights. A gloved hand reached out to her. “What the hell are you doing? This is an evacuation, not a vacation.”
She sighed and fought the urge to cough. “I’m aware. How do we get out?”
“Leave the cart and come with me.”
She lifted the sheet enough for him to see Issa’s wet hair and sleeping face. “The cart comes with me.”
“Oh shit.” He nodded and helped her pull the cart toward the exit doors. “Does he need medical attention?”
“I think he just passed out, but I’ll take him over to the ambulance just in case.” Muriah tucked the sheet around Issa again, hiding him from what was left of the sun outside. The police opened a path for her to push the cart away from the building. She tried to keep her head down while still scanning the faces around her. Was Apep watching? He had to be behind the fires. He took out the airports, and now he was trying to flush her out of the hotel.
She just needed a couple more minutes and Issa would be awake. Avoiding the ambulance, she shoved the cart toward the edge of the crowd near an alleyway and tried to remember to breathe while she watched for any sign of the tattooed man.
A deep groan rose from under the sheet, followed by a curse in a language she couldn’t place. Issa pulled at the covering, frowning. “Why am I wet?”
Muriah let out a sigh of relief and pointed at the hotel with smoke billowing from the lobby doors. Colored lights from fire trucks, ambulances, and police cruisers danced around them.
He met her eyes. “Apep.”
“Probably.” She kept searching the crowd for the face of the man she’d met in front of her home in Pacific Beach.
Issa’s cool hand clasped hers. “We need to go.”