Page 87 of Obsidian Dream
She would make a nice toy...so very fragile and breakable.
Khalida touched her neck again, this time there was no blood.
“I’m sorry,” said Talik.His resolve hardened as he stared at Khalida.The inconsequential flesh wound stitched itself together.A warning sign from Ninhursag, a reminder that the god was not playing and growing stronger.It didn’t matter if Khalida hated him, as long as Ninhursag didn’t hurt her.And Talik had learned long ago that half-truths were easier to swallow.“Understanding the past won’t change the present.I stopped believing in dreams a long time ago.And what we had was a dream.”
She blinked at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears as if she wanted to argue but wasn’t one hundred percent sure she would win.He took a few steps backward until there was more space between them.It was safer this way.For Khalida.He would not be the reason she died, and as long as Ninhursag was connected to him, they had no future.No matter how much he wanted one.He glanced at the consort mark.An iciness filled him.Khalida would not be safe until Ninhursag was destroyed, or he no longer bore the mark.
“It has been a fun trip down memory lane—the goodbye we never got.”He grabbed a cracker and took a bite, not tasting a thing.
Khalida’s eyes watered.A single tear slid along her cheek as she fisted her hands.Anger and rage he could handle, could use to dull his pain.But this wasn’t it.Pain filled her scent, rolling off her in waves.But she stood with her head up high.
“What happened in the catacombs?”
“Nothing,” Talik lied.“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten our original bet.I release you from it.After we finish this mission, you get your wish.We never have to see each other.”
Her eyes were wide as she slowly looked him over.She dropped her arms to her side.
Defeat rolled off her.It was another punch to his sternum.
“I wouldn’t have backtracked on the bet.”
He took another bite.This piece tasted like cardboard wrapped in plastic.“I know.Think of it as my goodbye gift.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
NINHURSAG
Ninhursag stared ather reflection in the tinted shop window.The pretty twinkling lights along the ancient, cobbled street cast everything in an unnatural glow.It had taken her a few minutes to adjust to the artificial light.
The world had changed.
Rome had barely been a city the last time she walked the surface.Trapped underground for thousands of years, she’d been forced to endure the darkness and the silence until they had built the catacombs.And then only the humans had ventured underground.The Atlanteans had stayed away, except for the hunters and the handful who hadn’t known she existed.Those she had swayed to her side, she’d offered them the kiss of near immortality to be her ears and eyes in the world.It all paled compared to what she was now.Free.
Idris had been a favorite of hers, but now he was beyond his prime—trapped in Egypt under the watchful gaze of the Atlanteans.She could hear his cries for mercy, sense a hint of the taste of his blood, offering himself as a sacrifice.He was growing weaker, and she had no place for weakness.It didn’t matter.She had replaced Idris as easily as she had his predecessor.Licking her lips, she recalled the dream she had invaded.Eyes as black as the volcanic island of her creation, he was proving to be harder to corrupt than the others.She encouraged the challenge; the breaking of her pets was the part she most looked forward to.And in the end, they all broke.
She twirled in a circle, her gaze only leaving her reflection when she had to turn.The clothes were not as soft as she was used to.The ankle-length linen skirt brushed her calves and barely kept the cold at bay.She touched the cool glass, tracing the outline of her face.Reptilian green eyes stared back at her as she tried to memorize her features.It had been so long since she had seen her reflection.High cheekbones and a perfect red mouth, with skin the color of ivory, untouched by the sun for millennia.Her long black hair reached her waist.She had worn the same body for twelve millennia and had yet to tire of it.
