Free Forbidden by Jacquelyn Frank Page A

either side, walling in what promised to be an expansive property. The idea was reinforcedas they continued up the drive a good distance before hitting a second wall and second pair of gates. Docia turned a little in her seat to look back at the heavily wooded region on the left side between the two walls before they passed through the second gate. She could see cameras posted at every square column that peppered the wall. Two of them, facing in each direction, resting on pivots that allowed for a complete scan in all directions. There had been the same thing on the first wall, both on the roadside and on the interior side, and she suspected that as they passed through she would see cameras on the other side of this wall as well.
    This gate had a guardhouse with mirrored glass on every window. The guard who came to the car was of the same ilk as the men who held her: big, healthy, and not suffering from an excessive need to smile. Nor was he dour. Just polite as he glanced into the car from Ram’s side at her.
    Well, Ram hadn’t been kidding when he had promised to bring her somewhere safer. As two other guards popped out of the house, one with a shepherd on a leash and another with a long stick with a mirror stuck to the end that he quickly ran beneath the car, presumably checking for explosives, she decided that she was either really safe or under more threat for heading into a property where the people within felt they needed this much security. The shepherd was well trained, not just teeth and fur to make an impression. She could tell as his handler took him around the car in precise steps and with focused commands. The dog then sat and looked up at the guard with that undeniable devotion she had seen Chico use toward her brother, his big pink tongue lolling out happily as he waited for his next rewarding task. The dog loved his job because he loved his trainer. The trainer was slim and dark, the dark suit he wore was tailored well and very sophisticated, but his shoeswere rubber soled and laced up. He was ready to run if needed. They all were.
    All this and the house had yet to come into sight.
    It forced her to wonder just what they were protecting in the house. Or whom.
    For the moment, it appeared it was her.

CHAPTER FIVE

    “Mmm. There’s no denying Ram’s special touch,” Kamen said dryly as he crouched down to survey the damage that had been done to the original left lying in the snow. Ram, Kamenwati noted, was very particular about whom he chose to kill. All of Menes’s Body-walkers had a special appreciation for life and took particular care in which original lives they chose to end. After all, the art of spiritual preservation was long lost in these modern cultures. Not that this spirit was worthy of any kind of preservation. It was a criminal. A thug. Small-minded and inferior in its thinking and goals. It had wanted to kill the incarnation of what was obviously a precious soul for such petty reasons. Over such petty fears.
    Kamen wanted to kill her for much more complex reasons. Much worthier ones. He had been watching Ram’s and Asikri’s activities very closely, knowing just as they did that the time for the Bodywalker Politic’s so-called king’s resurrection was at hand. He knew they were looking for their queen in anticipation of their king’s arrival. He also knew that his best advantage was during these first weeks of the Blending, when queen and, eventually, king would be at their weakest.
    “Tick tock. Tick tock. What to do, what to do,” he mused.
    “Kill it?” Chatha suggested.
    “If you must,” Kamen replied with a put-upon sigh. “But why waste your energy on these little mortal things? There are more important immortals we must worry about.”
    “Need skills,” Chatha said, his mongoloid features lighting up so brilliantly as his smile took up half his face. It was just like Chatha to find a perverse sort of humor in the incarnation he had chosen this time around. He seemed