“You say this after only being here and knowing him for a day?” Marissa said, her tone tightly curious.

“Yes. He’s told me what he’s done. I understand people were hurt—”

“People were tortured,” Marissa interrupted. “One of them is living under this roof and still having nightmares because of it!”

“All right I get that!” Viève cried. “But are you going to torture him in return to make up for it?”

“Of course not!”

“Then as I see it that leaves you only one other option. Forgiveness. And you can’t just give lip service to it. You have to mean it and start treating him with a modicum of respect. At least do him the courtesy of including him in a conversation. It’s just like with the Wraiths. You’re going to have to forgive them for their past deeds if you are going to move into the future with them with any semblance of unity. You’re willing to do that, aren’t you?”

“Of course, but—”

“No! No buts. It’s either forgiveness or it isn’t. Make up your mind.”

“Maybe you need to talk to Leo before you start talking about forgiveness,” Marissa said in a hard tone. “Every individual here is going to have to decide for themselves whether or not they think he’s worthy of forgiveness. I can’t speak for all of them. I certainly can’t speak for Leo. And I’ve died on the other end of the Curse of Ra thrown from his hands.” She jerked a thumb at Kamen. “Do you know what it’s like to be killed? To be torn apart from another soul and then thrust into the Ether where you have to wait around for a hundred years before you’re able to reincarnate? To be deprived of the man you love because you’ve been hunted down by this Templar and his queen? Until you do, don’t talk to me about forgiveness.”

Marissa turned her back on them and stormed out of the kitchen.

Kamen sighed. “Thank you for the effort, but they have every right to feel the way that they do. I have caused a great deal of pain. I was sorely misguided for many generations.”

“You’ve made mistakes,” she said with a frown. “We all make mistakes.”

“Mine were very serious ones.”

“I get that. I do. But I’ve seen Wraiths use their deathtouch like it was nothing. It’s so easy to take a life with just a touch. A Nightwalker life. And while the actual death part of the deathtouch doesn’t work on humans, the plague part does. We can make a human being very ill—so ill that it can easily lead to death. It manifests as pneumonia or Ebola or anything in between. Humans put it down to chance, bad luck. But I know Wraiths who don’t think twice about making a human sick. They make a sport of it. Enjoy watching them suffer. It’s horrible. And I’m certainly not proud of being a Wraith when it comes to things like that.

“Do I think they’re sincere about this whole idea of unity with the other Nightwalkers? I don’t know. But if this is going to work, we have to forgive them for those sins and make an honest effort at working together, at putting past transgressions in the past. It has to be done with the Wraiths and it has to be done with you. Otherwise all of this is just talk and it will never go anywhere.” Viève looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, pushing away from the counter. Kamen reached out and took her arm in his hand, stopping her from going.

“Don’t. Don’t leave because of this.”

“I just need some time to clear my head. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“All right,” he said with reluctance, letting her go. “I’ll meet you in our rooms in an hour.”

“Okay.” She smiled wanly at him. “I’ll be there.”

She left the kitchen.

Chapter 16

Viève walked outside and found a gathering of Nightwalkers on the lawn. The Phoenixes were there as well as Kat, the Djynn, and Ahnvil, her Gargoyle husband. No one knew exactly where the Gargoyle fit in with all the prophecies and such floating about. But the odds were pretty damn high the Templars would show up with their Gargoyle slaves in tow, ready to do their dirty work. Having their own Gargoyles to combat them was extremely important.

Marissa and Jackson were there as well. And there was the Night Angel, Faith, and other Gargoyles and Bodywalkers Viève did not know. There were also the humans, watching from the sidelines.

They split into teams and began to play, each using their abilities to try and capture the flag from the opposing team.

It was the first time anyone got to see the Phoenixes use their ability.

And what an ability it was. They could throw fire. In many different forms. They could form balls, arrows, darts—all made of fire. They could form a lasso of fire and throw it around an opponent. It had no ability to actually hold the opponent, but it was still encircling the opponent with fire.

It was very powerful.

But the Bodywalkers innate abilities were just as impressive and were quite varied. There was Jackson’s ability to move tremendous things with the force of his mind alone. And there was Tameri’s/Docia’s Templar abilities that, like Kamen, could cast spells such as the Curse of Ra. Although it was obvious she was using a watered down version of the red energy bolt for the sake of the games, as no one was truly injured by it.

Ram’s ability was control of the weather, but since there was no real practical use for that, outside of a lightning strike which he could not use to practice with, he relied on pure strength. He could pack a punch that would rock his opponent’s world. One strike of his fist could shatter a boulder into tiny smithereens. An interesting ability to have when up against Gargoyles, who were made of stone.

As the two teams fought against each other, Viève walked down the sidelines, making a beeline for Leo. He was watching his wife with a measure of frustration; it was clear he wanted to be out there by her side. But he had to realize that even if he was armed, there was little he could do in this kind of fight.

And it was clear that fact burned him.

“Go get ’em, babe!” he shouted out onto the field. Then he saw Viève and gave her a guarded, “Hey.”

“Hello. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure. About what?”

“Kamen.”