5- So He Sent His Son
The flesh under her tattoo began to heat and shiver below her unspooled hair. She felt Evan's hands searching around her waist. She couldn't move, couldn't muster a single movement as she felt her body grow heavier, her vision clouding more, the side of her face growing wetter. She wasn't even cold. She wasn't anything anymore but a desperate prayer.
"Come on, Evan, Josh, you two promised... do this... not right... public," Aisha could hear bits and pieces of Zach yelling in the background as her head throbbed. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears as Evan pushed his weight down on her back. Her lungs constricted.
"Stop being such a pussy. Dad... last one... everything... fine... dealt with." Evan sounded so far away even though she knew he was right by her ear.
"I... care... bitch... other one... fuck..." Josh mumbled through clenched teeth and cupped hands.
Horus, king of kings, help me. Please. Send me a son. Her whole body was frenzied in pain. Her leg. Her head. Her skin burned from the cold bite of the tiles underneath her. I will burn down their world. Send me a son. Horus, divine father. Send me a son.
Aisha felt the great weight of unfairness pressing on her back. Of an unfair world into which she'd had the great sin of being born. The only pure thing she'd ever had was Aiko. And for all Aisha knew, her best friend was dead. Aisha's body shivered, her heart twisting at the realization she'd tried her best not to think. How many days had she forced that thought down? How many times had she made herself sick pushing it away?
All this time she’d been missing... all this time with no activity on her social media or on her credit card. All this time without a word to her family, who she loved so much. Without coming home for her Sailor Moon choker or Vampire Diaries notebook... her favorite things… Aisha had suspected in her spirit that her friend was dead but in this moment, pinned under the very people likely responsible for what happened to her, Aisha had to admit the terrible reality to herself. Her friend was dead and she was about to join her.
She blinked her eyes closed, at least it would be peaceful on the other side.
Then she heard a voice. A buttery deep rumble that went straight through her like a knife, warmed away the cold press of the tiles. A voice she knew instinctively did not belong to a mortal man.
"Shall I kill them?" was all he asked. He sounded like thunder, like waves crashing on rocks, like he was whispering and yet his voice reverberated through her with power. Could it really be... finally... the answer to her prayers? As his question lingered in the air, the world was silent. Somehow in that silence, Aisha knew that this was a conversation happening solely between the two of them, her and this divine man. Everything else was frozen.
"No," she barely heard herself, desperate for air, for a single breath. In an instant, Evan's heaviness flew away from her.
"No?!" his voice rang out, filling the entire library, "Then what have you called me for? I do not enjoy wasting my time, mortal. You see the last person who wasted my time is in the ground now, should you like to join her? My father sent me and so I'm here. Though for the life of me I can't see how you've carried his favor."
A son. Horus sent a son. He answered her call. Aisha was so happy she could have cried. This wasn't how she imagined things happening but she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
"'Horus... send me a son'," he continued in a mocking tone, "'I will burn down their world. Was that not your plea? Did you not offer whatever I would take? I accept. I have come. Shall we burn their world? Or if you are a sheep, shall I just leave you here for the wolves?"
His coldness was to be expected. Divinity was not known for its gentleness. If three students at her college were pinning her down to do gods knew what, why of all things, would a god of death be nice? And she needed coldness, honestly. It was familiar.
"Not yet." Aisha coughed, taking great gasping breaths. Her vision blurred, "Take me home." She understood the danger of negotiating with a god, especially a death god, but she couldn't do anything in this state.
She didn't see the way he paused, looking from her body to her attackers with a fierce gaze that would have struck fear in any man: mortal and god alike. He didn't like complications and he knew without a doubt this one would be complicated. What was his father thinking?
But his father had insisted he try. Imset growled a savage sound, his eyes turning a bright, burning red. How many times had mortals called him or his brothers forth, requesting vengeance only for them to balk at their acceptance of the offer? Countless. She was no different. She did not really know what she wanted.
But Imset wasn't like his brothers. He didn't cancel deals. She offered. He accepted... even if his hand was forced. And if this girl was like the ones who had wasted his time, then he'd kill her, to hell with what his family wanted.
"I haven't changed my mind...if that's what you think," she wheezed harder, still too afraid to turn around and look at him, "I-I..." He turned back to her, trying to gauge how serious she was but it was difficult with her head face down. He grumbled sounds of annoyance. Mortals went into shock so easily and she was no different. The fight and her head wound, though superficial, wasn't helping. He begrudgingly touched a hand to the back of her neck, just over the tattoo of his father’s protection.
"Think of home," he said. And they were gone.
"You just left her there?!" Serket hollered, truly floored at the arrogance of her brother-in-law. Her husband, Qebe lay on a chaise nearby, fanning himself as he ate grapes. He seemed completely unsurprised by his brother's actions. They were all almost an hour into a relaxing trip down the Nile of the old world when Imset decided to appear and regale everyone with how his first contact went.
"You know how impulsive Imset can be, my dove," Qebe laughed, greatly enjoying the retelling of his latest adventure. And he was undoubtedly intrigued by their father's involvement. He had never involved himself in any of their affairs. Whatever made this girl special interested Qebe.
"Ah Serkie, you act as if I didn't heal her first. And I left her in bed too. Even brought her belongings back from where I found her," Imset clicked his tongue, "Better than she really deserved for wasting my time. Plus, how does she show her gratitude? She slept like the dead. What am I to do? Wait all day? A death god forced to become a nursemaid for a fragile mortal?" He scoffed as if the thought disgusted him.
"All of us wives were mortal once," Serket glowered, "You forget yourself. You've been alone too long brother." Imset growled but didn’t argue. He knew he was rough. Difficult. Something no one could love.
"At least he didn't kill this one," Nephthys argued, "Normally, he hardly lets them get a word in before it's off with their heads...He even let this one negotiate," She waggled her perfectly arched brows as she draped a leg across her large throne, "Though I suppose Horus is the reason for that." Her husband, Hapi, sat at her feet, massaging the leg that wasn't draped. His hands drew further and further up her skirts as he massaged. And he was not discreet about it.
Perhaps Imset just needed a good fuck. Something to make him a bit more tolerable with the woman his father forbade him from harming.
"Still...brother. Did it not bother you...? With what those men had attempted... with your new consort no less?" Hapi asked, stopping his massage to take a piece of stew meat for himself and throw another into the river for the crocodiles. This was a sticking point for them all because none would want their future wife to be defiled in that way. That kind of dishonoring would have required a lot of blood letting. Maybe even a decimation of the family line.
Imset ignored his brother’s point. She wasn’t his consort. She wouldn’t be his wife. They wouldn’t be bound to one another outside of this vengeance.
Unbothered by Imset’s silence, his brother continued, "I don't know that if Nephy was attacked that way, I would’ve had the strength not to gut them like fish. Even if she asked me not to."
"True, and what of her soul? How did you find her state?" Mutef cut in.
"She's not my consort," Imset growled at Hapi, starting to pace the flat plane of the boat, " I didn’t even look at her soul. We do not even know if she'll survive our next encounter. And how am I to know she did not deserve the attack, hmm?" He scoffed. What kind of idiot mortal negotiates with a god? Obviously, one who isn't going to survive for long.
Serket opened her mouth to scold him but he cut her off.
"And how am I to know what her soul is like from only a handful of moments? We barely exchanged words."
"Well, normally it only takes a few words for you to decide to kill your summoners, surely it's not a strange question..." Mutef mumbled, pursing his lips, "I'd say that at the very least, you didn't want to kill her."
“And that is an improvement we should all applaud!” Hapi beamed.
"I like her guts very much. I've never heard of one negotiating before," Neith smiled sweetly, the kind of sweet that belied a dark, twisted interior, "It'll be a shame if you kill her. Do send her to us first, brother. I would like to kiss her cheek."
"Ah, my dark little angel," Mutef cooed, stroking her back as she sat atop his lap, "Always one to be close to death. How could I be so lucky?" He planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.
"But don't worry, sister," Serket announced, sitting up in her most regal pose, "He's been told by Horus to behave. So I don't think he'll be killing her anytime soon." She followed her statement with a wicked chuckle that sent Imset's blood boiling.
"Argh!" Imset howled, "She's just another weak little mortal. Let's not start planning her a divine crossing, Neith! Like my mother is already planning the nursery for children I’ve not even fathered! You all are enjoying this way too much."
"Well what do you expect? You haven't come back with news such as this in forever. Certainly not since, what Mutef, the dark ages?" Imset cringed. Yes, that had been his last attempt and bonding with a human for real. And he’d been stupid to do it. Here he was, being forced into that same position again.
"Definitely not since the dark ages..." Mutef confirmed with a smirk, "Even if father's making you do it, we're going to enjoy the hell out of it. If only because it makes you slightly less insufferable..."
They weren't lying but they were also picking at him on purpose. His feathers were always so easy to ruffle. More than anything, they were all secretly rooting for this human girl. He needed to settle. His loneliness was nearly stifling to be around. It was making him mean and they truly hated to watch him suffer. Because they knew that no matter how much he suppressed it, his heart was suffering.
"I can't sit here any longer," Imset huffed, grabbing a goblet of wine to take a drink. "Fuck why is this so fruity? I feel like I just drank straight sugar!" He pretended to cough once but each of them watched him take another gulp.
"It's mine and I'll have you put that glass back down!" Nephy laughed.
"I'll see you all later," Imset gave her an evil grin, shooing his hand in her direction. Then he was gone, disappearing into nothing. Glass and all.
"Anyone taking bets on where he went?" Qebe laughed, rolling his hand dramatically behind his head.
"Oh come now! We all know where he went, brother," Hapi tucked his hands back under his wife's skirts as if he'd never left.
"And let us be honest," Nephy retorted, "A woman can always tell when a man is interested. And Imset is definitely interested. She's already under his skin. We’re all doing the right thing."