Dark Journey. Susan Krinard

invented backstory.

      “He seemed wise and controlled when he came here,” Isis said, as if she hadn’t noticed Daniel’s silence. “If he once served as a god to humans, he had clearly left that life far behind.” She paused. “He had a mate with him when he came to us, a dhampir woman whom he treated with great respect. I believe her name was Trinity.”

      Daniel kept his breathing to a normal pace. “Why did they leave?”

      “I did not actually see them depart, but my last words with them were of making a new life.”

      “They didn’t say anything about their destination?”

      It was clear from her expression that she wondered about Daniel’s interest. “I was under the impression that they intended to return to their home.”

      Daniel knew that it would be wise to drop the subject for now. “I hope he found what he was looking for,” he said.

      “A pity he could not have found it here,” Isis said. She gazed at Daniel for a long moment. “Perhaps you will answer a question for me. Why did you react so strongly when you saw that Opir emerging from the depository?” She searched his face. “You dodged the question before. But surely the answer is not so terrible?”

      “It doesn’t matter,” Daniel said, looking away.

      “It does to me.” She rose, and her bare feet whispered across the floor. “I saw the hatred on your face. Who is he?”

      Daniel took a deep breath. “His name is Hannibal. He was a vicious Bloodlord, a close ally of my first owner.”

      “Anu’s advisor,” Isis said. “I have met him. Your description of him does not seem—”

      “Everyone in Vikos knew his reputation. He was an evil man, Isis. He could never stay in a place like this without his own Household and serfs. He would never give up that life.”

      “And yet he has.”

      “He lives among the other Opiri in the towers?”

      “Yes.”

      “And he has never caused any trouble here?”

      “Not that I have heard.”

      “Opiri like Hannibal don’t change,” he said. “If you’re worried about spies, Isis, I’d watch him more closely.”

      Her hand touched his shoulder. “An agent from Vikos?” she asked.

      Daniel hesitated. He had chosen to say that he came from Vikos to keep the Tanisian’s attention away from the western colonies near Erebus, in the event that the Opiri of Tanis proved hostile. Hannibal’s presence could prove a danger to him, for the former Bloodlord would know who and what he really was. Daniel had no idea where Hannibal had been over the past several years, but Ares had fought Hannibal and exiled him from Erebus after the overthrow of the Citadel’s original government. Hannibal would surely be very happy to take revenge on his enemy, by any means possible.

      “You can’t believe anything he says,” Daniel said.

      “Even though he has acted only in good faith and followed our laws?” she asked. “A powerful Bloodmaster like Ares wanted something beyond serfs and divinity. Surely this one, too, can learn.”

      He took her by her shoulders. “Is it that you only see the good in people, Isis? Is that your blindness?”

      She pulled free. “And is yours constant suspicion, a refusal to see what is good or even to hope?”

      Grabbing her slender waist, Daniel looked into her eyes. “I’ve been wrong before.”

      He kissed her. She stiffened for a fraction of a second and then relaxed in his arms, returning his kiss fully and eagerly. She, a goddess once adored by millions, wanted a man like him as much as he wanted her. He had been a serf, helped found a colony, fought Freebloods, governed a compound where Opiri and humans lived in relative harmony.

      But in the end there was nothing more than this.

      He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the small bedroom off the living area. The bed’s wooden footboard and headboard were decorated with ancient Egyptian motifs and carvings of human figures going about their daily tasks, from harvesting grains to fishing in the river. A woman held a child to her breast, and birds dipped and dived among the rushes.

      Isis followed his gaze. “There are some things I do not wish to forget,” she said.

      Daniel laid her on the bed, staring at the carvings. Isis pulled his head down and kissed him. At once he was inundated by dreams of another time and place, the cool of night on bare skin and the smell of a river as the flower-scented boat glided along, the oars pulled by bronze-skinned men in simple white kilts, singing as he held Isis in his arms.

      Unembarrassed by their presence, he unfastened her gown and untied the sash. She wore nothing underneath. Her wide necklace glowed against the golden skin above her breasts, and her bracelets chimed softly as she stretched her arms over her head.

      There were no words between them, nothing to break the spell.

      She wrapped her thighs around his hips and sighed as he eased inside her. Her breasts rose and fell with each short, sharp breath. She was smooth and warm and wet, drawing him in, and he began to breathe harshly as the pace quickened and she arched up to meet his thrusts. He kissed her breasts, one and then the other, and licked the warm skin of her shoulder. She pulled him closer with agile fingers and pressed her lips to his neck.