and Docia away to ready a new household for him in New Mexico where so many of the body Politic resided. Jackson had insisted he was safe, that his anonymity protected him from Templar assassins. But the entire idea sat ill with him. He had been separated from his good friend more than long enough. And he knew Docia had been chafing for his appearance as well. She loved her brother a great deal and, although she was now a Bodywalker herself, she had been very upset about Menes taking up a position in her brother’s body. Even she had known the risk involved, that just his existence painted a target on him as the two warring factions tried to gain the upper hand.
But Ram felt the tide of this interminable war might be turning at long last. The Bodywalker inside of his mate was a priestess. A Templar. She was also niece to Odjit and a being of such great power that when the priestess had tried to defect to the Politic, Odjit had hunted her down for it. It was in the process of that battle that her brother had nearly lost his life, sending him into the Ether where he had found Menes and the promise of a continuing existence.
“Menes,” he finally said to her.
That made her sit up a little straighter at his back. He felt the change go through her as tension took away the bonelessness of sleepiness.
“Jackson? What was it?”
“Ram!” The door to their outer suite crashed open as Cleo’s panicked voice filled the room. He was out of their bed in a flash of movement, Docia following a little more clumsily behind him as she pulled herself the rest of the way into the woken world.
“Cleo, what is it?”
“It’s Menes! I’ve had … there’s danger! Oh, so much danger! I can see the blood. The fire! Oh god, it feels so painful!” Cleo’s cerulean eyes had gone wide with fear, the wild tousling of her hair showing she too had been asleep when this had occurred. Cleo was not known for allowing herself to be seen unkempt. Nor was she prone to fits of panicked emotion. She had once been one of the greatest of Egyptian queens and she did not rattle easily. But when she spoke of fire burning she was holding out both of her arms and staring at them in abject horror as if she were actually on fire.
“I have felt this sense of danger myself,” he told her, while at the same time taking hold of both her hands and pulling her arms up against his bare chest. He made her look into his eyes, drawing deep steady breaths until she was subconsciously mimicking him. “I will go to him this very minute and fetch him back to us. It is beyond time for him to be safely within these walls and within our reach to help him. Now, other than the things you described to me, was there some kind of clarity? You know a great many of your visions are symbolic and not necessarily accurate. So be calmed, Cleopatra. Be easy.”
“You must take this seriously,” she said, a tone of petulance entering her voice and turning her expression to one of consternation.
“I am taking this very seriously,” he assured her. “Did I not say I was going to fetch him? I would never take you less than at your word.”
“I did not speak of it earlier,” she said, “because there was only the sense of imminence, not alarm. I thought it was because you had told me that the Blending was almost complete and that he would continue to go about the business of withdrawing from Jackson’s old life in Saugerties. But it’s been stronger every day, this sense that something is on the horizon. Something … something is coming toward us.”
“Do you mean this danger?”
“I don’t know. The danger is new. Before this it was as though … as though we would be entering a time of discovery. Everything felt benign until just moments ago, or I swear I would have told you.”
“I know you would have. I don’t hold you accountable for anything, Cleo. You are of tremendous value to all of us. Your power has been an asset to us throughout the ages and it is very much appreciated.”
“Hm. For you maybe,” she said with no small amount of irritability. “You aren’t the one who has been cursed with this interfering ability.” She frowned