Empire of Ash: A Passionate Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 1)

by L. R. W. Lee

  “We have to try and save him.”

  “At least wait until the tremor ends, geez.”

  As if on command, the shaking stops. It’s probably lasted all of a few seconds but my heart’s racing full out. I glare at Irik. “Happy, your highness? Now shall we?”

  He frowns, but for once doesn’t reply.

  I whirl back around, not waiting to see if the idiot follows. I’ll find Jude by myself if I have to.

  Dust clouds the stairway, making my light bounce back to little effect, but I can just make out two stairs and head down.

  “Jude!” Only silence greets me.

  Counting the steps as I go, I make it to step fifty by the time the dust begins to thin.

  “Jude!”

  Irik’s boots scuffling behind me, along with my own, are the only sounds.

  I sneeze and Irik coughs as we make our way down until at last we find the bottom. The limestone debris from Irik’s work earlier remains and I stumble. Only his meaty paws keep me standing.

  “Easy there.”

  Amazing, the situation has actually made the idiot a tiny bit helpful.

  “Thank you,” I say, glancing back at him before continuing.

  “Jude, where are you?” Irik calls.

  Rounding the corner I let out a squeak as my beam finds Jude’s still and bloody arm sticking out from beneath a limestone block that’s crushing his right side.

  “Jude!” I pick my way across the rubble field as quickly as I can, then hold my breath as I feel for a pulse along his neck.

  Please be alive, please. Only those steady metallic eyes buoy me.

  There! A pulse! I exhale. “He’s alive!”

  Irik moves to Jude’s other side, kneels, and reaches for the block.

  “No, don’t lift it. If he has internal injuries he can bleed out if you remove the pressure.”

  “Jude, Jude.” I run my hand along his jaw. “Wake up. Wake up, Jude.”

  “We need help,” Irik says. “You stay with him, and I’ll rally the guys.”

  I can only bob my head as he lumbers back across the limestones and takes off up the stairs.

  I pick up Jude’s free hand. “You’re going to be okay. Irik’s gone to get help. They’ll be here soon.” This and more I babble to calm myself.

  The dust clears and I scan the ceiling to find where the block that’s impaling Jude fell from. I suppose I should have checked it out first, but…

  I squint and spot two adjoining blocks at the peak shifted out of alignment; they’re lower than their neighbors and leave a dark hole.

  I gasp. Another good shake and they can easily follow.

  Come on, Irik, move it.

  Jude moans, drawing my attention back in time to see him shift his head.

  “Jude, it’s Pell. You’ve had an accident, but you’re going to be okay.” I squeeze his free hand hoping to emphasize the point.

  Pain laces his face as he eases his eyes open and finds me. His voice is strained and soft as he says, “If I’m… going… to be… fine… why… are you… holding… my hand?” He attempts a smile.

  I nearly put it down but stop myself. “Because it’s your lucky day. It’s hold your boss’s hand day.”

  “You’re… a terrible… liar.”

  “So I’ve been told a time or two.”

  We exchange smiles, then let silence win for several minutes.

  Come on, Irik. Move it, move it, move it.

  “Pell…”

  “Shhh, Jude, don’t strain yourself.”

  He moves his head. “Would you… read me… that… other scroll?”

  I inhale sharply, then squeeze his hand. “Oh, come on, Jude, there’ll be time for that later. Now rest.”

  My worst nightmare. My boss injured and in questionable condition, and now he wants me to read that damn scroll. First that guy in Egypt munched by the sphinx and now this. Nothing but pain comes from those scrolls.

  He shakes his head, exerting more effort. “No, Pell… now… I… want…”

  I put a finger across his lips, but he turns his head aside.

  “Please… I have… to know.”

  “You’re going to be fine.” I squeeze his hand again.

  Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me read it.

  “Pell…” His tone turns pleading.

  I look into his eyes and his pained expression nearly kills me. “Okay, Jude, okay.”

  He smiles, then closes his eyes.

  No, no, no, no. “Hey Jude, you have to stay awake.”

  He opens his eyes again.

  “If I’m going to read it, you have to keep your eyes open. Deal?”

  “I’ll… try.”

  His breathing’s growing more labored. Where the hell is Irik?

  “Eyes open,” I remind as I rise.

  The stairway is silent as I make my way the twelve steps over to the second scroll and kneel.

  “You still awake, Jude?”

  A grunt.

  “I’m holding you to your promise.” I try to mix humor with my words, but I doubt I succeed.

  Like the other scroll, this one has just three lines. Unlike the other, the title has disintegrated over time. I could mistranslate this one, Jude would never know, but I don’t have the bandwidth to make something up, not with him like this.

  “There’s no title on this one, Jude. Jude, you staying awake for me?”

  Another grunt. “Good. Okay, here goes. ‘I sought the throne when it was not mine.’ Oh, political intrigue. What do you think, Jude? Jude?”

  At least it’s a person, not some wild ass creature.

  “Read…” It comes out a wheeze.

  Damn it, Irik. You building the hospital?

  I clear my throat. “‘A willing actor played a convincing oracle.’ Sounds like a real winner if you ask me. Jude? You still with me?”

  He shifts his free hand.

  “‘The people of Phrygia were desperate, and I lent myself as a panacea in their time of need.’ That’s it, Jude. That’s all it says. Jude?”

  The fact that I’ve no doubt played necromancer hardly registers because Jude doesn’t move.

  “Jude?” I rise and retrace my steps. “We have a deal.” I hold my breath as I kneel and feel his neck for a pulse.

  Please…

  There, faint, but there.

  I pick up his hand. “Jude, come on. Work with me.”

  I pivot my head as shouts rattle down the stairway.

  “Jude, they’re here. Stay with me.” I pat his face and squeeze his limp hand as moisture wells up in my eyes. “Stay with me.”

  Irik and Terin, followed by two of my peers plus a dude I don’t recognize in a blue coat with a red cross on his jacket sleeve, appear around the corner.

  “Put his gear there,” Terin points. “Give him room.”

  The guys do as commanded, depositing the plethora of equipment beside where Mister Medic lands, beside me, and goes to work, issuing a barrage of orders, among which to ease the stone slab from off Jude’s chest.

  Not surprisingly, the guys notice the open room with loud exclamations not long after.

  So much for keeping it secret.

  Irik frowns as he looks my way. “Yes, seems we’ve made the discovery of the century. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  My peers keep glancing into the room as the medic works, their curiosities begging to be indulged, but with the seriousness of the situation, they leash further comments.

  I end up playing holder for a bag of IV solution at some point.

  “He’s in critical but stable condition,” the medic says as he at last sits back on his haunches. “Much longer and he wouldn’t have made it.” Turning to me he adds, “You did well to keep him awake as long as you did.”

  I can only bob my head as a mix of powerful emotions wells up. Too close. Jude came too close to dying.

  “Okay, let’s get him on that stretcher,” the medic commands.

  Irik lingers after t
he four head back up the stairs with Jude. What he has to say, I’ve no idea. Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf as a result and is about to say something encouraging or reassuring to me for a change.

  “Trying to keep this treasure trove a secret, huh?” he accuses, scowling.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Are you neurotic?” Disbelief laces my words. “Jude nearly died, and you’re accusing me of hiding these scrolls? You’re a bigger dolt than I gave you credit for.”

  Irik clenches his jaw. “When were you going to let us in on your little secret or were you saving the glory all for yourself?”

  Okay, the moron has gone too far.

  “Oh, that’s rich.” My voice turns snide. “Looks like the pot calling the kettle black. Several scrolls are missing from last night.” I shine my flashlight across the shelves as I stride toward them. “Look at the dust patterns. There’s several missing. Where’d you hide them?”

  “What are you talking about?” Irik’s eyes go wide. “This morning was the first time I got a proper look at them.”

  Is it really? How can that be? Yet insistence fills his words.

  “How’d you even know they were here?”

  Irik runs a hand over his face and exhales heavily. “Yesterday after Rasen and I finished checking for damage to grave circle A, I thought I’d see if you needed any help. You know, make sure you hadn’t fallen in a hole or something.”

  I roll my eyes. Such chivalry. “That’s very big of you.”

  Irik smiles. “I thought so.”

  I shake my head and motion him on in telling his tale.

  “When I got here, I overheard you talking to someone.”

  Crap.

  “So I came to investigate. I didn’t recognize the guy’s voice. Who was down here with you?” He raises a brow.

  “Doesn’t matter. What were we saying?”

  Please tell me he didn’t overhear about the sphinx.

  Irik frowns. “You want me to believe you and some stranger chatting ‘doesn’t matter’?”

  Don’t answer that, Pell. I fold my arms and shift my weight.

  Irik shakes his head. “When I stuck my head around the corner…” He mimes doing so. “Imagine my surprise. It took my breath away.”

  “What were we saying?” I persist.

  Irik smiles. “The two of you were bickering over who was going to put a scroll away. I wanted to interrupt, but it seemed like your companion had ‘other plans’.” He draws a hand to his chest. “Far be it from me to interrupt a tryst.”

  “What?” My voice rises.

  He chuckles.

  Pell, let him believe what he wants, it’s easier than explaining.

  I close my eyes. “Exactly how long did you listen in?”

  “Long enough to know you weren’t in any danger. Hey, enjoy the dalliance, maybe a little something-something will improve your disposition.” He wags his brows.

  My jaw drops. “You’re an arrogant pig!”

  He rolls his eyes. “I leave you to your fling, and this is the thanks I get.”

  I bite my tongue though I fear I’ll bite the end off at this rate.

  A smirk comes over his face. “So, how was it last night?”

  My eyes light in outrage. “What? Jealous, you prick?”

  “Not at all. Let the gentleman work his magic on you.” He shrugs.

  “I’m not going to even justify that with a comment. Think what you will.”

  He chuckles. “Oh, I plan to.” He clears his throat. “What did surprise me though…” His tone turns serious. “… is that when I came back with Jude this morning, the wall was rebuilt, not a stone out of place.”

  Oh, boy.

  He turns piercing eyes on me. “How exactly did that happen?”

  “What can I say, my friend turned his ‘magic’ on more than me.” I stick up my nose.

  He shakes his head. “You’re hiding something, Pell, I know it, and you’re not going to get away with it. How long have you known about this trove? You were rather eager to check it out by yourself when Jude gave out assignments. Who was that guy, some antiquities dealer?”

  “What exactly are you implying?” My voice rises.

  “I think it’s pretty clear.” He clenches his jaw.

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Am I?” He scans the scrolls. I’ve seen him sport some pretty ridiculous expressions—arrogant, egotistical, conceited—the look that falls across his face in this moment is none of those. His eyes glow with what I can only describe as greed.

  “It’s clear I’m guilty until proven innocent with you, but the truth is I had no idea about these scrolls until I got here and found the wall had collapsed.”

  He shakes his head. “And your friend?”

  “What about him?”

  “Did you call him and ask him to meet you?” His tone turns taunting.

  I grit my teeth. “I told you, I didn’t know anything about the scrolls.”

  “Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe.” He exhales heavily. “Women.”

  I frown. “What about women?”

  “Should never have let you out in the field.”

  “What? What is wrong with you?”

  “I’ve been trying to get promoted so I can get out of this hellhole and get on with my career, but no, you had to come and make my life hell, Miss Women-Are-As-Good-As-Men. When will you learn your place?”

  My mouth drops open. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He’s shown chauvinistic tendencies, but I had no idea the depth of his depravity.

  “Stone Age too hard for you?” I mimic chimp sounds as well as drawing an imaginary club over my shoulder because I left my flashlight in the stairwell and don’t have the prop. “Maybe if you’d apply yourself and stop trying to kiss Jude’s ass, he’d promote you. He’s not stupid. Don’t think he doesn’t hear your BS.”

  His eyes light up, and the Neanderthal takes a step toward me, then another, all humor gone.

  “I’ve always believed I need to look in the mirror if life isn’t turning out the way I want,” I add.

  Why am I still talking to this moron?

  He takes another step. I back up.

  It’s probably stupid, but I can’t help myself. “You’re upset because it’s taking longer to get promoted than you want. Get in line. You think I don’t want to advance? I’m not your problem.”

  Another step closer. Another shuffle back.

  Shut up, Pell, shut up.

  “You’re your own worst enemy, Irik, and the sooner you”—I take another step back— “realize it, the sooner you’ll stop acting like an ass.”

  His look turns fierce, and I swear he growls.

  I take bigger steps backward, throwing up my hands.

  As if that’ll do anything, Pell.

  That pair of eyes soars to the forefront of my mind, but doesn’t calm me, not with Irik in this crazed state continuing his advance.

  “Okay, Irik, that’s enough. You’ve proven your point.”

  “Oh no, you need to learn your place.” It comes out a growl.

  My breathing speeds. When will I learn to shut my trap?

  I continue my retreat and gasp when I realize he stands between me and the doorway, not that I’d make it up ninety-nine steps before him. He’s already proven he’s faster.

  I had the same worries about Harpoc attacking me not more than a day ago. What is it with me and weird men? I doubt it’ll turn out similarly, not with Irik in his current frame of mind.

  Panic has my stomach climbing up my throat, making it hard to breathe.

  I scan my surroundings. Only loose limestone chunks litter the floor. Can I throw one hard enough to do damage?

  My back hits the wall, and a smile morphs Irik’s feral expression.

  “Stop, Irik. Okay, that’s enough.”

  “Don’t like it so well when you learn you place, do you? How’s it feel?”

  “You’re right, Irik. It sucks, okay? Is th
at what you want me to say?”

  “I want you to resign.” He screws up his face in a snarl.

  Fear threatens to overwhelm me, but I’ve been the brunt of bullies more than a few times and learned the only thing that shuts them up is standing up to them, no matter their size.

  “That’s not going to happen, Irik. I have just as much right to work here as you.” I only barely stop myself from adding, “maybe more, ya big jerk.”

  My brain’s running at full tilt, looking for escape, but there’s none. He’s hemmed me in.

  “Resign.”

  I clench my jaw and shake my head, hoping he doesn’t notice my shaking hands, which scrabble the cold, rough wall behind me.

  Defend yourself, Pell!

  My heart races. Why didn’t I take that self-defense class?

  Chapter Nineteen

  I propel my foot with as much force as I can muster, at Irik’s balls, and scream as his hands near my neck.

  Irik sucks in air, and seconds later, his weight presses against my calves.

  My mouth drops open.

  “Nice work,” Harpoc says, his gray duster tail swaying as he strides for me. His shadows swirl with more intensity than I remember, not far away, only begrudgingly dissipating.

  “I heard you could”—my voice trembles—“kill a guy if you hit him too hard… where it counts. Did I…?”

  “Your aim was a bit off.”

  “So you…?”

  “Yes, I felled the brut.” Fury shows on his face, and I swear I hear him growl.

  My stomach flutters. From relief, I insist to myself, nothing more.

  “Are you okay? I came as soon as I could.” He extends a hand.

  “I… I think so.”

  My legs turn wobbly, and I take Harpoc’s hand as I push Irik’s unmoving form forward, then take a wide step over him. My heart races as I draw a hand to my chest. “Did you kill him?”

  A corner of Harpoc’s mouth turns up. “Did you want me to?”

  A slow smile mounts my face. “Thank you.”

  He bobs his head, his expression unreadable.

  My heart slows as the magnitude of what happened sets in. None of the bullies who’ve tried to intimidate me growing up looked feral, like Irik.

  I’ve never felt comfortable around Irik but never thought him capable of hurting me. I’d no idea he’s the jealous type. And jealous in a brutal kind of way; I’d thought Harpoc’s wild, and he is, but his is a mysterious kind of untamed. Irik is a whole different species, he’s savage.