Sorry to have kept you waiting.

Chapter Fourteen

News of Bakura's visit to the palace spread through the Pharaoh's city like a plague, and the news of Kiya's death forced the palace into mourning. High Priest Set sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, and the weight of Kiya's grave on his shoulders. This was all his fault. If he hadn't been so cocky, so heartless… If he had just given the thief what he had desired she would still be alive. Set's blood boiled at the thought of the thief.

'How dare he?' He balled his fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. 'How dare he take something that belonged to me?'

He thought that about the rod too. But now with Kiya gone, he knew he had valued the wrong possession.

Kisara lay semi-naked in his bed. She had come to comfort him, to take his pain and turn it to pleasure. He started with her but he could not finish for Kiya had watched them from the side of the bed.

'I am gone for no more than a day and you choose to make love to her?' she said spitefully. 'You are not a man but a coward. Unable to face my death, unable to accept your fault. I shall see to it that Anubis eats you like the pig that you are.'

And with that, she disappeared.

With the sleeve of his robe, Set wiped the sweat that formed on his forehead. If it was the last thing that he did, he would find Bakura. He would kill him and avenge his wife's death. Perhaps then she could rest in peace and leave him be.

Three months later

Kiya was now six months pregnant. Her stomach had swollen, her face softened, and her breasts grown to twice their normal size. She had gotten used to her new life among the thieves, playing the role of mother to them already. In her life at the palace she had never had to lift a finger, never had to clean or tidy but she found comfort in doing those things now. For once in her life she felt useful and needed, and she spent her days learning to sew and would make children's clothes out of the fabric Bakura would buy for her at the market. Nesting, Ana had called it. It was a strange but natural concept.

Bakura returned home late one evening and crawled into bed. He nuzzled Kiya's neck. She woke groggy and confused.

'Bakura,' she said. 'What are you doing?'

'Please,' he found himself begging. 'It's been too long.'

Kiya's hand reached behind her and nestled in Bakura's hair. It had been many weeks since they had last been intimate. When they were first reunited, they couldn't keep their hands off one another. Their sex was hot and passionate. Nothing like it ever was with Set. But now as he propositioned her, Kiya sighed. It was not that she didn't want to, but rather she felt awkward. Uncomfortable in her own body. Still Bakura's hands caressed her breasts and she let out a moan.

'Bakura,' she breathed. She wanted so desperately to please him but she worried so much about the child inside her. 'What about-?'

'Shh,' Bakura hushed her and kissed down her neck. 'I'll be gentle.'

He didn't unclothe her, but simply lifted her dress so her womanhood was exposed. He caressed her tender skin, rubbing gently at the little jewel above her entrance. Kiya gasped for air. Every touch sent shock-waves through her body. She could feel her baby kick. Was it happy that its parents loved each other, or was it jealous as the father's attention?

When Kiya could take it no more she sat up and moved carefully to straddle him. As Bakura had done to her, she lifted his shendyt and played with him. He grew in her hand, becoming warm and firm. Then she lowered herself over his pulsing member, taking him in whole.

Tonight Bakura allowed her to be in control. Her movements were slow and at times he struggled to control himself. His natural instinct was to change positions, to have her on all fours, taking her from behind like the animals he knew they both were. But that was the old him; the one who cared not about others but only of himself. Kiya had changed him for the better. The new him respected her and would give his life to protect her and their unborn child.

Kiya leaned forward as far as her stomach would allow and she kissed Bakura on the lips. 'I've missed this,' she confessed.

Bakura closed his eyes and smiled. 'Keep talking to me,' he said.

Kiya giggled. 'And say what?'

'Tell me you love me.'

Her words were soft, like she was telling him a secret. 'I love you.'

Bakura grunted. 'Tell me you need me.'

Kiya ground herself against him, deeper than before. 'I've never needed anyone more in my life.'

'Tell me you-'

But he didn't finish because suddenly was a loud banging on the door. Before Bakura could tell Marik to go away, Marik kicked open the door.

Bakura sat up startled and wrapped his arms protectively around Kiya so that she wouldn't fall backwards or onto the floor. 'Marik! What the hell do you think you are doing?'

Marik shut and bolted the door. 'Get dressed,' he ordered. 'Code red.'

'Red?' Bakura repeated and Marik nodded.

Kiya could feel him go limp inside her. 'Bakura,' she asked nervously. 'What's going on?'

Bakura pulled himself from her, got up and dressed. He moved so swiftly that Kiya started to panic. She could hear voices rising in the hallway. What was going on?

Standing from the bed, Bakura dressed her in her travelling coat and tied a shawl around her head. 'B-Bakura,' she stammered, her hands reaching for his. 'Please tell me what's going on.'

'The Pharaoh's men are here.'

Kiya hadn't felt nauseous for months but his words had left her weak on her feet.

'I need you to go with Marik,' he said.

Marik rolled up the rug on the floor, revealing beneath it a trap door.

'Do everything he tells you to do.'

'Everything, huh?' Marik smirked as he opened the door and dropped a bag down. It landed with a thud.

Kiya ignored him, her eyes fixed on Bakura's. 'What about you? Aren't you coming?'

He kissed her hands. 'I'm needed here.'

You're needed with me, she wanted to shout, but she didn't. She had had conversations like this with Set before. Her opinion was never one that mattered.

Marik disappeared down the hole.

'Take this,' Bakura said and handed Kiya his knife. 'Do not hesitate to use it.'

Bakura brought his lips to Kiya's in a passionate kiss which could only be shared by a couple never expecting to see each other again. When they parted Kiya had tears in her eyes. 'Please don't leave me.'

Bakura kissed her nose and wiped away her tears. 'I'll see you soon,' he promised.

He took the lit torch from the wall in his room and threw it down to Marik. Then he told Kiya to sit on the edge of the trap door, and he lowered her down. Marik took the girl in his arms and before Kiya could take one last look at Bakura, he had locked them in. She shuddered at the sound of the carpet being draped across the floor. It felt like she was going to her grave.

Marik flung the bag over his shoulder, picked up the torch and took Kiya by the hand. 'Can you run?' he asked.

Kiya's hand supported her stomach. 'I can try.'

The two set off down the hidden alleyway, not so much at a run but rather a fast walk. Kiya had no idea where they were going or what the plan was but she could only trust Marik would lead them to safety.

They hadn't got far when Marik suddenly stopped. He handed the torch to Kiya and drew his knife from his pocket. Kiya heard what he did; voices in the distance. Marik signaled for her to get back, to hide in the shadows and don't come out. She did as she was told, like Bakura had told her to do.

There she waited.

The men appeared as if from nowhere. There were three of them. All armed. All twice the size of Marik. He fought well as far as Kiya could tell. He took the first man down with a stab to the chest and kicked the other man back. The third man attacked and threw Marik up against the wall but Marik's reflexes were fast and he stabbed the man in the eye before he could do anything to Marik. The man fell to the ground with a scream that Kiya was certain the pharaoh would hear from the palace. Marik pulled the knife from the man's head and stabbed him again in the chest.

The second man got back up on his feet.

'Marik look out!' Kiya screamed.

Marik was caught off guard and the second man punched him in the head. He fell to the ground, beside the dead. The man punched him again and again, until Marik's face was swollen and bruised. His knife had fallen from his hand and he reached out trying to find it, but it was too far away.

Kiya looked around. She didn't know what to do but she needed to do something. If the man killed Marik, he would come for her. Her scream had given her away. If she removed her shawl and showed him her identify, would he have mercy? Could she trick this man and tell him Marik had kidnapped her and forced her to bear his child? Would he take her back to the palace? Would Set have her back? No, Kiya thought. It was too late for that. She had made her decision the day she chose to lie with Bakura, the day she chose to keep his child. Together they would be partners in crime.

'Bakura,' she smiled. His knife was in her hand. Do not hesitate to use it.

She knew what she needed to do.

Without further thinking Kiya emerged from the shadows and plunged Bakura's knife into the man's neck.

There was blood. So much blood. It spurted everywhere. Over Marik, over Kiya, over the floor and on the walls. She stabbed him over and over until he began to falter and Marik had the strength to push him off him. He crashed to the ground. His eyes wide and unblinking.

Kiya choked out a sob as she fell to her knees. She was shaking. Unable to comprehend what she had just done.

She had killed a man.

'Kiya,' Marik said in haste, addressing her in the name Bakura had warned them against. 'Are you alright? Are you hurt?'

She couldn't answer him, and so he checked over her body, pulling open her cloak and lifting up her dress to make sure the blood was not hers. 'You're alright,' he said, retying her cloak. He wiped the hair that clung to her sweat streaked face and kissed her forehead to sooth her. 'You're alright,' he repeated.

Kiya fell into his arms. She had never before been so scared. They sat in silence for some time until Marik decided they could stay no more.

The tunnel took them to the river and there they waited in the shadow of the trees for Bakura. The moon was bright in the sky, reflecting like a ghost on the water. Kiya's face was white under the light of the moon, making the blood that painted her face look even worse than it did before. Marik took a rag from his pocket and spat on it.

'What are you doing?' Kiya asked in disgust as he tried to wipe it on her face.

'Hold still,' he said.

Once again Kiya had no other choice than to do as he asked and Marik did his best to clean the blood from her face. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped and she was left with a smudge of red in her hair and one down the side of her face and neck.

Marik sighed. 'One look at you and Bakura's going to kill me,' he said.

Kiya could only hope he was alive to have the chance.