Balance of Forces Read online

  Synopsis

  Kendal Richoux’s life began during the reign of Egypt’s only female pharaoh. After accepting the opportunity to drink the elixir of the sun, Kendal becomes immortal and the Genesis Clan’s slayer. History has taught her the dangers of getting too close to anyone who hasn’t harnessed the power of time.

  After many years, she returns to New Orleans to finish a job she’s trained for all her life. It’s time for her to face her brother Henri, and it will have dire consequences to mankind if she fails.

  Piper Marmande believes Kendal has come to take over the company her family has built over generations. As Kendal prepares for the most important battle of her long life, Piper does her best to uncover every one of Kendal’s secrets, making herself a distraction Kendal can’t afford as she hunts Henri and Ora, the vampire who seduced him to a life of darkness.

  Balance of Forces

  Toujours Ici

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

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  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  By the Author

  Carly’s Sound

  Second Season

  Calling the Dead

  Blue Skies

  Balance of Forces: Toujours Ici

  The Cain Casey Saga

  The Devil Inside

  The Devil Unleashed

  Deal with the Devil

  The Devil Be Damned

  Balance of Forces: Toujours Ici

  © 2011 By Ali Vali. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-603-8

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: October 2011

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Shelley Thrasher and Stacia Seaman

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  Acknowledgments

  Imagination is something we start to cultivate as children, but at times it dulls with the responsibilities that come with age. Writing gives us some of that back, and there is nothing more freeing than letting my mind wander and listen to the voices of the characters that are always chatting away. What a gift it has been to find a boss who encourages me and gives wings and voice to those characters and stories. Thank you, Radclyffe, for your support and for giving me a home at BSB.

  From the very beginning, Shelley Thrasher has been there as well, guiding me with an active red pen as well as kind words. Thank you for all you’ve taught me, and for the ideas that sometimes send me off in directions I didn’t consider. With your help the stories always end up stronger, and something I’m proud of. I’m so glad you’re a part of my team.

  The first people who get to read these stories are Kathi Isserman and Connie Ward. Thank you both for your suggestions and for honesty. You guys aren’t just the best beta readers in the business, but you’re great friends as well.

  Thank you to each one of you who has supported and encouraged me from the very beginning. Every book, every word is always written with you, the reader, in mind, and it will always be so. It’s nice having you all along for the journey.

  No matter what else is happening in my life, or what the story is about, there is one person who is at the heart of my life who makes me feel as if everything is possible. Thank you, C, for not only your love, but for all you’ve brought into my life. These past twenty-six years have passed in a flash, and I’m looking forward to the next fifty at least. I love you.

  Dedication

  For C

  My partner, my life, my love

  Chapter One

  Egypt in the year 1482 BC

  “Our enemy is anxious for battle,” Asra, Captain of the Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s elite forces, told her second in command as they headed toward her tent. “They should wait until sunrise, but post extra men along the ridge of the dunes in case they want to start their journey to the realm of Anubis early.”

  “As you command.” The man bowed slightly with his fist to his chest.

  “Report if you detect any movement. If not, leave me to a few candlemarks of peace.”

  “It shall be so.”

  Asra’s tent fluttered as the wind picked up and drowned out the quiet conversations, and as soon as she was alone, she stripped off her gear and placed it on the trunk near her pallet. She had craved solitude all day, but had wanted to be sure everything was ready for the impending battle. The encampment was quiet now, only a few fires ensuring safe passage through the maze of men and equipment but not producing enough light for enemy scouts to detect them.

  Asra had learned that lesson by age four from her father, Raad, the leader of the pharaoh’s great troops. His name meant “thunder,” and many of the men he had faced and crushed found it to be no boast.

  In the morning they would face an enemy from the east that outnumbered them three to one, but Asra wasn’t worried. Her confident demeanor spurred those who served under her to live up to their reputation as the pharaoh’s elite warriors. At first the soldiers at her command had not welcomed their assignment, but none of them had hesitated to follow her into battle, because of her father. After that, her skill on the battlefield had made them want to follow her.

  That night Asra had sat by one of the campfires to eat with some of her new recruits, listening to their stories of home and the families who waited for their return. She’d laughed at their jokes and added a few, but now she was grateful for the time alone to study her maps and mentally review the next day.

  She planned to conquer the fools camped not far from their position as quickly as possible, returning a few survivors to their ruler to prove Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s strength. Surrounding rulers who thought to gain new lands at Hatshepsut’s expense had sent forces before. Most of them quickly learned, though, that Hatshepsut’s gender didn’t blunt her willingness to send people like Asra to kill anyone who opposed her, and tomorrow would be no different. Asra intended to carry out her orders swiftly, and those lucky few left alive would carry back the tale of their comrades who lay dead under the Egyptian sun with only vultures to tend to them.

  A fast, decisive victory would also allow Asra to head home to care for her ill father. The desire to sit and share a few more conversations with him made her want to run into the night and slice the chest of every enemy who kept her bound to her duty.

  But Asra would carry out orders before she indulged in any personal matter, as had her father, and his father before him. Her family had served the ruling dynasty in battle for generations, and Asra would continue the tradition.

  She poured herself a cup of wine and recalled the day her father had put his own future at jeopardy by asking the pharaoh for something unheard of. Hatshepsut had gazed silently down at her from the throne for so long she felt a chill in her heart. Then the pharaoh called her closer.

  “The gods have blessed you with Raad’s height and eyes,” Hatshepsut said, studying Asra’s dark-brown irises with a slight smile. “Have the gods also blessed you with his skill with the sword?”

  “With time, My King, I will be as proficient as he.”

  “Honest as well as confident, Raad. You have done well.” Hatsheps
ut motioned for one of the servants to pour wine for the three of them. “What plans do you have for young Asra?” Her father laid out his goals for her training. She would begin by working closely with him and eventually become a captain. “And if we grant you this wish, Asra, how will you serve us?”

  “With honor, obedience, and courage. As long as I have life in me, I will fight to keep you safe.”

  Hatshepsut had kept an eye on her progress, gifting her with the rank of captain seasons before she or her father thought possible. The pharaoh had come to trust her as much as she did Raad and often had her as a palace guest when she was in Thebes. Hatshepsut apparently saw much of herself in Asra and wanted her to succeed so those who opposed her rule would realize how capable females could be.

  Asra’s boast to become as skilled as her father with the sword came in time and was one reason she rose so quickly in rank. Raad always remained her greatest advisor and teacher, happy to see at least one of his children carry on their family’s traditions. Asra was Raad’s greatest pride, but her brother Abez was his greatest disappointment.

  “Abez, I pray you eventually find your way home before it’s too late to make amends with Father,” she said as her eyes lost focus on the maps. “His time grows short; may the gods grant him that comfort before his spirit soars to join our mother.” She thought of Abez only at times like this.

  He was four seasons older than she, but always different from her in every way possible. He seemed to have inexplicably hated her from birth, and that hatred had deepened when their mother died in Asra’s third season. No matter how much Raad encouraged Abez to begin his training, he refused and pulled away, blaming the perfect little soldier who’d followed him.

  Now a man, Abez spent his time in the gambling dens of Thebes ridiculing Asra and her growing favor with the pharaoh and the city’s elite. He had nothing to do with them until he exhausted his fund of coin for his women, wine, and games. Only then would he come home and play the perfect son, making Raad happy for a few days. Once their father’s purse was lighter, Abez returned to the sewer that was his life.

  Asra sighed and dropped to the small bench next to her map table, then rested her head in her hands. Regardless of how far back her thoughts had pulled her, Asra heard someone pull the flap back and approach with almost silent steps. “What is it? I left orders not to disturb me unless the enemy is approaching,” she said, standing and reaching for her sword. “Has their position changed?”

  The person before her bowed low enough that she couldn’t see their face. “Forgive my intrusion, Captain, but I bring news of your father.”

  Any melancholy over Abez’s behavior disappeared, and she wanted to shake the messenger. “Speak.”

  When the woman stood straight Asra became momentarily lost in the beautiful eyes and equally beautiful face. She shook her head to clear her mind and focus on the woman’s words. “I’m sorry that you must find out this way, and for my bluntness, but your father is dead.”

  She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands again to hide her despair. “Did he suffer?”

  “He suffered very little, Warrior, because his end was swift and before his time. Again, I do not know any way to make this easier to hear. Your brother killed him.”

  Before the mystery woman could continue, Asra quickly drew her blade. Her father had used this sword in combat and given it to her when she was promoted. “A filthy lie you will bleed for, woman.”

  “Please, Captain, let me speak. Then I will submit to whatever punishment you wish.” The woman bowed again. “That is all I ask.”

  The messenger gave a history of the forces at work within the realm and in places not yet known to Egypt. As in every battle, good and evil were at odds, and she sought those worthy of fighting for those who could not fight for themselves. Evil, the woman told her, if left unchecked, would plunge the world into darkness forever.

  “You’re speaking in riddles and wasting my time. What does this have to do with my father?” Asra stood in the middle of the tent curling her fingers tight around her sword. This beauty was perhaps more crazy than dangerous.

  “The evil I speak of has seduced your brother, and he took your father’s life as revenge for what he feels was denied him.”

  “You’re lying,” Asra said. The words fell easily from her lips, but in the pit of her stomach she felt sick. What this woman was saying was possible. “Abez was seduced away from a noble life a long time ago, but he’s never been violent. My father may not agree with his choices, but he’s never denied him the coins or attention he craves.” This news about her brother and losing her father, the only person she trusted completely, made the strength drain from her legs, and she dropped to the bench behind her.

  “Blood is now the only craving he will have for eternity. He craves it like we need air to breathe. Abez could have chosen anyone to satisfy his thirst, but he chose your father. That was the best way to draw you out. Then his revenge will be complete.”

  “We disagree on almost everything, but I cannot believe he hates me so much.”

  The woman slowly moved closer and knelt next to her, then laid a comforting hand on her knee, waiting until she lifted her head. “He’s no longer the brother you knew, Warrior. Accepting this gift destroyed all the good in him. Now he desires only blood and death. It will be so until the end of time, or until he is destroyed.”

  “Only the gods live forever, and Abez is no god.” Asra studied the woman’s light skin and hair. This beauty was like finding a rare jewel in the sand.

  “What will it take to convince you?”

  “I need no proof since I plan no revenge. My brother is not perfect, but he is no killer. That would take effort, which he has very little patience for.” She stood and wiped away her tears. “Leave me to mourn my father, and thank you for bringing me the news of his passing. If I can, I will repay the debt.”

  The woman left as quietly as she had come, and Asra lay on her pallet to give in to her grief. She would have to set her emotions aside in the morning. If what her visitor had said was true, she was truly alone in the world.

  *

  Asra headed into battle like a woman possessed. Not an enemy soldier was alive by the time the sun reached its peak. Leaving orders with her second to send word of the victory to the pharaoh, as well as the ruler whom the dead men served, she galloped toward the city. She arrived at her father’s home candlemarks before sunrise and again fell to her knees. The atrocity she found made her throw up.

  It appeared as if a beast had ripped out the throat of every servant, leaving the bodies for the flies. The lack of blood amazed Asra. The wounds should have painted the walls and tiled floors red, but the bodies, faces frozen in a grimace of terror, were like dry husks of grain.

  The stench of death overwhelmed her, and she breathed through her mouth to keep from becoming ill again. As her chest expanded she heard Abez laugh before she saw him. As in her camp, only a few torches were lit throughout the house, and it was difficult to see past a few feet.

  “How it pleases me to see the mighty warrior brought to her knees.”

  “Abez, what have you done?”

  “What is my right to do, Captain. You’ve looked down on me for so long, but that will soon change. I fed on these pathetic fools but now I thirst for you, sister. I am invincible.” When he moved out of the shadows, she shrank at the sight.

  Seasons of drink and abuse had hardened Abez’s features, but he had never been this hideous. His deathly pale skin and his face resembled a nightmare. He kept stroking his new elongated canines with his tongue as if he couldn’t stop himself.

  She pulled her sword free and held it out in front of her. “It’s true, then, you killed Father?”

  He laughed so hard he braced his hands against his knees. “He wasted his last breaths calling for you to protect him instead of being in awe of the god he sired.” Abez pointed to her sword and shook his head. “You are no match for my strength, Asra, so
put your toys away. Face your end showing the same pride with which you serve the mighty pharaoh.” He kicked the sword out of her hand and pounced on it before she could move. “This is just one more thing that should have been mine. You stole it from me.”

  “Father would have given you anything. Don’t twist history or blame him for your failures,” she said, her anger fueling her courage. “Be a man for once. Admit that you gave away every privilege you were born to because you were too lazy to work for anything. You would have been a lazy, drunken parasite with ten siblings, or as an only child.”

  “Enough talk, Captain. It’s time to pay me in blood for your lack of respect.”

  “Leave now and I won’t turn you to dust, Abez.” The threat came from the shadows, and she and Abez turned in the direction from which it came. The speaker was nearby. “Your master warned you of your limitations. Do you wish to see how invincible you are?”

  Asra recognized the voice as that of her visitor from the night before. Her messenger stepped into view holding a sword with an intricate design along the length, but from her stance Asra could tell the pretty blade wasn’t for show. Abez stepped back as if in fear, and his face morphed back to the monstrous features. The woman only stepped closer, and rather than fight, Abez fled with a speed Asra had witnessed only in horses.

  “Are you all right?”

  Asra dropped her hands from their defensive posture, but didn’t totally relax. “Who are you?”

  “I am Morgaine, a member of the Genesis Clan, and I have come to offer you a gift, Asra.” Morgaine returned her sword to the sheath strapped to her back and held her hand out. “I am sorry this was the only way to prove that Abez is as lost to you forever as your father is. You may not fully understand what has happened here, but after last night I stayed near and watched you in battle. You possess great skill with the sword.”