… my mistress was lying in a coma and I thought to rouse her with an awakening spell … so ancient it was … I had no idea what it was supposed to awaken.”
“Oh hell no,” Ahnvil spat out. “What have you done, Templar scum?”
“I have roused Amun’s enemy, Apep. I have set free pure evil on the world, Politic. He has been aroused in my mistress’s body and his power will grow well beyond anything Odjit ever was. And he knows all of Odjit’s thoughts. He will already be aware of you, and he will know that you are the biggest threat to his existence here on earth. Only you and others like you will have the power to stop Apep.”
“The Politic is strong enough to repel any danger,” Ahnvil said, his pride in his employers seething out of every word.
“Not just the Politic,” Kamen hissed. “The Gargoyles. The Djynn. The Night Angels. Every Nightwalker both known and unknown to us will have to come together, only then will we be able to defeat Apep.”
“Known and unknown?” Jackson echoed, that part of the statement somehow being what made the most impact on him. Battle he was used to. Joining other species in battle … while not a normal occurrence it had happened once or twice before. But how could there be unknown Nightwalkers?
“There is scripture, works in our vaults, that Odjit has been studying and trying to interpret. She was coming to believe there were twelve original Nightwalker nations. Or that at some point in the future there would be twelve. It was very unclear. But if they are out there we must find them because this is the god of chaos and destruction and his power is unlike anything we have ever thrown at one another. A rough beast has been born and he slouches toward us, Politic. Heed me … or discard me if you must. But whether or not you believe me, it will come.”
Jackson sat back on his heels, sparing a glance up at Ahnvil and Ihron.
“I believe you,” he said quietly. “What remains to be seen is whether or not you can be trusted. I will not turn my back on you in the name of a mutual enemy only for you to take the opportunity to slit my throat, as my friend did your mistress’s. It is just the sort of justice you would seek, Templar.”
Jackson pushed off of Kamen, grabbing up his clip as he made it to his feet. He shot the clip into place in the butt of the gun, then locked it in and chambered a round. He put on the safety and tucked it back into his waistband.
“Ahnvil,” he said, turning his back on Kamen, “see to it our guest is given every comfort he doesn’t deserve.” Jackson put a hand on Ahnvil’s arm to make sure the Gargoyle gave him his full attention. “He is not to be harmed, nor are we to treat him like he would have treated us. We’re better than his kind for a reason. Have a care to remember that.”
He saw the Gargoyle think about it for a moment, and it must have taken a great deal out of him to come to the right conclusion. It must be very difficult to fight the warring nature they had been born for, Jackson thought. But that thought was all he could spare for him. He took off across the lawn in the direction Diahmond had gone.
Marissa crept toward the men, feeling as though she were making far too much noise. She remained in the dark, though she realized that if their attention turned her way there would be no hiding from their extraordinary night vision. She envied it, especially after stubbing her toe on a rock. It would have been easier to follow the driveway, but it also would have been quite obvious as the sound of stones under her feet announced her arrival. She wasn’t interested in becoming a part of what was happening. She wasn’t foolish. She was mortal and they were quite a bit more hardy than she would be in an all-out battle with others of their ilk … namely Templars. And she had a feeling that was what this was about. Her heart was in her throat knowing Jackson was putting himself front and center for whatever was going to happen. Knowing him as she did, she knew he wouldn’t let others take risks in his stead. She