Darkness Bound

39

Doing so is punishable by death, however. Actually, strike that,” he amended, thinking of the Roman colony who had an entire caste of half-Blood soldiers bred by the murdered Alpha. “The one colony I mentioned that’s ruled by the stubborn males?”

Her head bobbed.

“Their dead Alpha didn’t see any problem with mating with humans.” Hawk’s voice turned dry. “He didn’t see any problem doing a lot of forbidden things. Then again, he didn’t know they were forbidden. Not that he’d have cared,” he added as an afterthought, and turned and began walking again, knowing Jacqueline would follow, which she did.

“Why didn’t he know? Why wouldn’t he have cared? Can the half-Bloods do what you do? You know, turn into a . . . a . . .” “Panther?” he supplied when she faltered into silence.

At her small, hesitant sound of acknowledgment, Hawk smiled. He’d have loved to have seen the look on her face when she viewed the video of him Shifting. “The ones who survive the Transition can.”

They walked in silence for a moment, listening to the rain pattering on the leaves and the calls of the birds high up in the canopy. Then Jacqueline said, “You don’t really need me to ask, do you?”

I just like hearing your voice.

Startled by the thought, he didn’t answer for a moment. He held the words in his mind, turning them over and over like an interesting artifact he’d unearthed from some ancient tomb.

What a strange revelation: he liked the sound of her voice. He liked her northeastern American accent, the broad a’s and tensed o’s and taut pronunciation, the way she said “fahrest” instead of “forest,” the way “Mary,” “merry,” and “marry” would all sound alike. It made her seem exotic to him, like a rare species of bird, China white and crimson red and freckled.

He tried to remember ever noticing or caring about the particular cadence or tone of a woman’s voice, but couldn’t.

“The Transition is a do-or-die event for half-Bloods that occurs at the age of twenty-five. No one knows exactly why, but human and Ikati blood is ultimately incompatible. They survive for a while, but just like a clock ticking down to zero hour, there’s an expiration date for those of mixed Blood. Which is one of the many reasons it’s forbidden: having a halfling child is basically condemning that child to an early death. Only every once in a great while, it isn’t. The half-Bloods survive their Transition—their first Shift—and they go on to lead a normal life with their Shifting abilities intact.”

Hawk didn’t add that the dead Alpha of the Roman colony—a brilliant geneticist in spite of being a homicidal maniac—had developed a serum that allowed all half-Bloods to survive the Transition. Which even at this moment, his insane, immortal son was using to develop a half-Blood army with which to wipe out the entire human race.

He didn’t think it would be prudent to mention that particular detail.

“Why didn’t the Alpha know it was forbidden?”

Hawk shrugged. “We only just discovered this colony a few years ago. The four confederate colonies have known about each other’s existence since our ancestors were hunted to near extinction in Egypt under Caesar Augustus. The remaining few fled and settled in small, isolated communities around the world—”

“Hunted? Egypt? Caesar Augustus?”

They came to a clearing in the thick underbrush. Through the trees, Hawk saw the waterfall he’d been able to hear during the past twenty minutes of their ascent up the hill. In spite of her ability to keep up with him, Jacqueline was tiring, evidenced by her breathing, which had become labored the higher they climbed. He gestured to a large rock several feet away, shaded by a corozo palm.

“Let’s rest a while.”

She sat with a groan, unlaced her boots, pulled them off, and began to massage her feet.

“So—you were saying?” she prompted, wincing as she pressed on the arch of her left foot. “Hunted?”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve wanted to wipe us off the face of the planet,” Hawk said wearily, stretching his neck. “Even before Cleopatra, our interactions with humans were . . . treacherous, at best. One of you is always trying to exterminate us.”

Jacqueline had stilled. Holding her foot in hand, she stared at him with a look of incredulity. “Cleopatra? You’re saying Cleopatra was one of you?”

He smiled. “One of you, too.”

“Another half-Blood Queen?”

He nodded. “Clever and cunning, and extraordinarily powerful. Like all the Queens, including the new one. An Ikati Queen doesn’t come along often, but when she does, great changes swallow us.” He added darkly, “No doubt this time will be the same.”

“Why?”

Jacqueline stared at him with such laser-like intensity, Hawk felt as if he were a fly trapped in a web. A fly who almost—almost—didn’t want to escape.

Stupid, self-destructive fly. Serves you right if the spider eats your dumb ass.

“A Queen is always the most powerful of all of us, even more powerful than the Alphas. Because of that, she’s above the Law. She can do whatever she likes, without consequence. Combine all that power with complete freedom . . . let’s just say it’s never gone well.”

She sat a little straighter, her expression avid. “Would I know any of the others?”

Hawk debated for only a moment before deciding to be truthful. “Marie Antoinette.”

Jacqueline gasped. “No!”