The husky, mesmerizing voice went on and on. It was telling all about Ur-Demons who drank blood, and men and women who could change into animals, and a place called the World of the Night, where they all lived. Ha-nahkt's head began to spin.
And her heart shattered.
Literally. She could feel the jagged pieces of it every time she tried to breathe. A priestess didn't cry, but tears were forcing themselves out of her closed lids.
Because she couldn't deny that the stranger did act a little like an Ur-Demon. Why else would he drink blood?
And the things she'd seen with him, the feeling of destiny... that must have all been magic. He had tricked her with spells.
Maya seemed to have finished her story. "Do you think you can remember all that?" she asked.
Ha-nahkt made a miserable gesture. What did it matter if she remembered it? She only wanted to be left alone.
"Look at me!"
Ha-nahkt glanced up, startled. It was a mistake. Maya's eyes were strange; they seemed to turn different colors from moment to moment, and once Ha-nahkt met them, she couldn't look away. She was caught in a spell, and she felt her will slipping.
"Now," Maya said, and her eyes were deep gold and ancient as a crocodile's. "Remember all that. And remember this. Remember... how he kills you."
And then the strangest thing of all happened.
It suddenly seemed to Ha-nahkt that she was two people. One of them was her ordinary self. And the other was a different self, a distant self, who seemed to be looking on from the future. At this moment, Ha-nahkt and the future self were seeing different things.
Ha-nahkt saw that Maya was gone and the temple was empty. And then she saw that someone else was walking in. A tall figure, with light hair and dark fathomless eyes-the stranger. He smiled at her, walked toward her with his arms held out. He grasped her with hands that were as strong as a demon's. Then he showed his teeth.
The future self saw something else. She saw that Maya never left the temple. She saw Maya's face and body ripple as if they were made of water-and then change. It was as if there were two images, one on top of the other. The outward image was of the stranger, but it was Maya underneath.
That's it. That's how she did it.
The voice came from outside Ha-nahkt, and she didn't understand it. She didn't have time to think about it, either, because the next instant she felt the tearing pain of teeth.
Oh, Isis, Goddess of Life, guide me to the other world....
"That's how she did it," Hannah breathed.
She was sitting up on the couch. She knew who she was, and more, she knew who she'd been.
It was another of those blinding flashes of illumination. She felt as if she were standing at the end of the corridor of time and looking back at a hundred different versions of herself. They each looked slightly different, and they wore different clothes, but they were all her. Her name had been Hanje, Anora, Xiana, Nan Haiane, Honni, Ian, Annette. She had been a warrior, a priestess, a princess, a slave. And right now she felt she had the strength of all her selves.
At the far end of the corridor, back where it was misty and blurry and faintly tinted pink and blue, she seemed to see Hana smiling at her. And then Hana turned and walked away, her task accomplished.
Hannah took a deep breath and let it out.
"She did it with illusions," she said, hardly aware that she was talking out loud. "Maya. And she's done it before, of course. Maybe every time. What do you do with somebody who keeps killing you over and over? Never letting you live to your seventeenth birthday? Trying to destroy you, not just your life, but your heart... ?"
She realized that Paul was staring at her. "You want me to answer that?"
Hannah shook her head even as she went on talking. "Goddess-I mean, God-she must hate me. I still don't understand why. It must be because she wants Thierry herself-or maybe just because she wants him miserable. She wants him to know that I'm terrified of him, that I hate him. And she did it. She convinced me. She convinced my subconscious enough that I started warning myself against him."
"If any of this is true-which I'm not going to admit for a second, because they would definitely take my license away-then I can tell you one thing," Paul said. "She sounds very, very dangerous."
"She is."
"Then why are you so happy?" he asked pathetically.
Hannah glanced at him and laughed. She couldn't hope to explain it.
But she was more than happy, she was exalted. She was buoyant, ecstatic, over the moon.
Thierry wasn't evil. She had the confirmation of a hundred selves whispering it to her. Maya was the enemy, the snake in the garden. Thierry was exactly what he'd told her he was. Someone who had made a terrible mistake and had spent millennia paying for it-and searching for her.
He is gentle and kind. He does love me. And we are destined for each other.
I've got to find him.
The last thought came as an additional bright revelation, but one that made her sit up and go still.
She had no idea how.
Where had he gone? Home. Where was home? She didn't know.
It could be anywhere in the world.
"Hannah..."
"Wait," Hannah whispered.
"Look, Hannah, I think we should maybe do some work on this. Talk about it, examine your feelings ..."
"No, hush!" Hannah waved a hand at him. "She gave me a clue! She didn't mean to, but she gave me a clue! She said he had connections with witches in Vegas."
"Oh, my God," Paul muttered. Then he jumped up. "Hannah, where are you going?"
"I'm sorry." She darted back into the office, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss. Then, smiling into his startled face, she said, "Thank you. Thank you for helping. You'll never know how much you've done for me."