by Lana Kole
Maya almost didn’t even bother intervening, but the remaining guys decided to gang up on her men. She lifted the gun, aimed, and fired off the electrodes into one of the guys from the back, and he went down hard, a flurry of wild arms and flailing legs as volts of electricity circuited his body. Maya didn’t even wince in sympathy.
Another one, seeing her crouched, turned from the group to head toward her. She dropped the gun and rose to her full height—which, fine, wasn’t really that tall—but she had skill and now extra strength to back her up. It was with that she sprinted forward to meet him, using her own momentum to jump up and tackle him to the ground. His breath whooshed out when they landed, and she wasted no time in cranking a fist back and smashing it into his face, the smack of flesh loud and brutal amongst the other fighting. His head jerked to the left with the force of her hit, and he went limp. Another approached her and reached a hand out, probably to fist it in her hair, but he never made it that far. Still crouched over the first attacker, she grabbed the second’s wrist and pulled with all her might, throwing him off balance and to the floor beside her. She jumped up and lifted her leg, bringing her Doc Marten down on his face.
She would’ve taken the reprieve to check on her men, but this one didn’t knock out so easily, as he grabbed her ankle and rolled, jerking her to the floor. He landed over her, caging her in as he pulled back a fist. Maya pushed against his chest, and with her new strength she created enough space between them for her to gain leverage to kick her foot into his groin. He grunted and rolled out of her way to cup his package. When she hopped to her feet, she threw more force into her leg when she kicked her foot into his face, successful in knocking him out that time.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around her from behind and lifted her off her feet. She grunted at the strength they used to constrict her lungs and kicked her feet in the air.
“Fucker!” With a cry, she headbutted them, cursing at the throbbing in her own head, but she heard their nose crunch over the sounds of battle.
The hold on her slackened enough for her to slip down a little, and she planted her boots on the floor with a thud, gaining her balance before throwing an elbow into their gut.
As she finished him off with a few punches, she glanced to see how Amir and Asher fared. Even more assailants had appeared from gods knew where, and Maya winced when Asher took a hit to his face. He staggered back, and Maya rushed forward to help him when something jolted into her back, and she cursed only a split second before the electricity zapped through her body. She went down, hard, and discovered just how much being tased sucked. It was like her entire body had one of those infamous charley horse cramps. As she flopped around on the bar floor like a fucking fish, a guy moved closer until she felt hands feeling up her ass, searching her pockets. He rolled her over while dodging her flailing limbs and grabbed the amulet from her front left pocket.
“Got it!” he announced to the room. A flurry of motion told her they were probably all retreating.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Frantic mumbling filled her mind before the guy reared back a fist, and knocked her the fuck out.
Chapter Eleven
Sekhmet was unashamedly lounging on Kyril’s lap when her creations returned… well, some of them. Her heart lurched when she saw a gold chain dangling from one’s fist, and she slowly sat up.
“That better be what I think it is.”
When the man stretched his arm out flat and opened his hand, there lay the precious amethyst jewel, the object of her extensive search. She stood, a thrill of excitement taking root. Now, in her grasp, was the fruits of all her plotting and hard work, successful at long last. Grabbing the stone from his palm, she caressed its smooth surface, traced the golden curls that framed its face, and sighed in… disappointment. Sekhmet frowned.
“You’re dismissed, for now.” With a wave of her hand, she dusted the men she’d created for this sole purpose in an explosion of sand, expanding her power to those that remained in the Earth realm. The granules pebbled the floor as she watched. With her power, they no longer existed. A sharp intake of breath pulled her eyes to Kyril, who stared at the spot where his men once stood. His hands gripped the edges of her throne, tightening further when she approached.
“Kyril. We have the amulet.” Surprisingly, she needed to feign the excitement in her voice, as if faking it would conjure the emotion itself.
Although she had no idea why she had to fake it. Sekhmet could finally set her plan in motion! Turning back time, fixing her mistake... The particular mistake that ruined her life and would never have occurred, had that bastard Ra not baited her. It all seemed… empty, now that it was finally within her grasp. Maybe she would find a way to pay him back… eventually.
She shook the thoughts from her head. For now, she just wanted out of this gods-forsaken solitude. Vengeance could wait.
Her gaze trailed over the man seated on her throne, the only one she would ever allow there. His nostrils flared, and his eyes dilated when they traveled to the stone in her hand. The intensity bothered her, and she clasped it around her neck with a frown.
His voice sounded rough when he spoke. “Now what, my goddess? I thought you needed the men to alter time.”
He was correct. The Keepers controlled time, but now, she controlled them. Sekhmet owned them, for all intents and purposes.
Maybe that’s why he was upset. She suddenly wondered, could her lover be jealous?
Her bare feet were soundless against the marble floor as she stepped forward until she straddled Kyril in her throne.
“Yes. They will come to me, but I only need them for one purpose. You, however, my love…” Sekhmet trailed a polished fingernail down the side of his face, his blue eyes boring into her. “You and I will be together forever. When I change time, when I stop myself from falling into Ra’s trap, we can rule together. Would you like that?” Caught up in the moment, she ground into his lap, felt him harden beneath her. Her emotions got the best of her, and she admitted, “You mean something to me. I want you beside me.”
A frown curved his pretty lips, and he arched a brow at her. “Like they meant something to you?” His words were paired with a gesture to the piles of sand behind them.
Sekhmet could have laughed. “No, silly. They were just servants. You, though…” Sliding her palms down his chest and his ripped abs, she landed on the now rock-hard cock, cupping him through his pants. “You are all mine.” A teasing growl erupted from her as she leaned forward to kiss him.
He responded, his palms lifting from the arms of the chair to grip her around the waist. “So you’ve said before.” His hands pulled and yanked at the swaths of her crimson dress, baring her flesh at the same time she freed his erection. A cry poured from her throat when he lined her up and slid home in one thrust. “But really, who...” He punctuated his words with a slamming thrust. “Belongs...” A hand wrapped in her hair, jerking her head to the side as she moaned. “To whom?” He stood and stalked them to the nearest wall, wanting his own leverage. Her back ached where he slammed her into the unforgiving marble, his thrusts wild and hard as he took her without restraint.
Sekhmet’s screams rang out as he conjured her orgasm, pulling it from her very heart, mind, and soul as he sank deep, over and over again.
Twisting her head to the side with a cruel fist in her hair, Kyril sank his teeth deep into her neck, pulling another moan from Sekhmet. His brutal actions sent her spiraling into another orgasm, following the one that hadn’t yet subsided. Thighs trembling around his waist, pussy fluttering around his big cock, she let go and held on with claws in his shoulders as he came with a roar, spilling inside one burst at a time.
Hours later they finally relaxed in her bed. Kyril lay on his back, his chest a pillow for Sekhmet’s head as she sighed. The amulet lay beside her, and she traced the curlicues with a fingertip. Sekhmet thought about the years she’d spent there, locked away in one of Ra’s pockets of time... with no one. How Kyril had been her saving grace,
rescuing her from a lonesome, pathetic existence. Never in her life could she imagine making someone as perfect twice.
No, Kyril was her most perfect creation. Just for her.
Mine.
Her brows furrowed as she thought about her plan. Once the Keepers arrived, she would make them take her and Kyril to the past, to undo her mistake, and they would rule together.
But as she lay there, the silence comforting around them, the body beneath her warm and perfect… she questioned herself.
“Kyril…” She paused, suddenly wishing for something else. In that moment, her shoulders slumped, and she realized she was… exhausted. Which was funny, considering they’d spent lifetimes doing nothing.
His arm shifted beneath her as he caressed her bare shoulder blades. “Yes?”
“What if...” Sekhmet hated the vulnerability in her voice. “What if we didn’t go back in time?”
He stiffened beneath her so abruptly she brought her head up to study his expression. His brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape as he stared at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Frowning at his tone, she tried to put her thoughts into words. “We’ve been here for how long?”
“I don’t even know. It’s been millennia.”
“Exactly. Why waste that? We could just use the amulet and escape. Get out of here and make our life together elsewhere… somewhere of our own choice.”
He seemed dumbfounded, completely at a loss of words as he stared at her. “But you-you’ve waited so long for this chance. You’ve planned and worked so hard. Why waste that?”
Sekhmet sighed and lay down on his chest again, stroking his skin instead of the amulet. “Exactly. I’m tired of planning, of plotting and wasting my days obsessing over something that happened so long ago. Yes, it infuriates me that Ra fucked me over, but he hasn’t bothered me in the least since then. I haven’t had to deal with the drama of the other gods and goddesses. What if I don’t want to stir them up? What if…” She trailed off and stared up at him again, peering into his sky blue eyes. “What if I just want you?”
She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before his features relaxed. “Sekhmet… I think we should sleep on this. Let’s not make a rash decision, okay? We can talk about this tomorrow.”
Sekhmet wasn’t dumb, he was trying to placate her. Feigning her relaxation, she burrowed into his warmth.
“If only you knew how easily this could all end.” She traced the jewel that had landed on his torso when she laid on him.
“What was that?” he questioned her, but she ignored it, still staring at the amulet.
She wanted him. And peace. Peace sounded lovely. Nothing and no one to answer to, no expectations… It sounded wonderful. She would wait and see how she felt, if she would call for the Keepers in the morning. However, she didn’t foresee changing her mind at all.
Then again… she also hadn’t foreseen Ra’s betrayal so long ago.
Kyril waited long, long after Sekhmet fell asleep before grasping the amulet in his own palm. The amethyst seemed to twinkle in the low candlelight of their room. The silence of the opulent place she called a hovel pressed in on him, until he gripped the amulet so hard, the golden curls bit into his flesh.
“Come to me,” he commanded in his mind. “Keepers, come to me, now!”
The amulet seemed to send a shockwave through his body, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he stared at the swirling mass inside the jewel. Yes.
He’d done it. His call was sent, and hopefully when Sekhmet awoke, they would be here. She might have spent millennia plotting, but so had Kyril.
Quietly, he scoffed at her proposal. She wanted to what… retire to an island somewhere? Kyril hadn’t even done anything to warrant retirement in the first place! And he doubted she would let him retire as her fuck toy.
That’s what he’d been created for in the first place, after all. To curb poor little Sekhmet’s loneliness inside her private dimension.
Kyril wanted to feel the sun on his face, the rain on his skin, the chill from a winter night. He couldn’t do any of that trapped here, at her disposal. She dusted his men easily enough, but she had never even considered dissolving him. Instead, he was forced to befriend, train, and ultimately watch his friends die, again and again with no chance of escaping from this hell. More than anything, Kyril wanted, craved, his freedom—from Sekhmet, from this fucking prison.
With every granule of sand that had slid through his fingers over the years, he’d plotted. He would never have existed without Sekhmet’s boredom, but he sure as hell could live without her now. Not that she would ever give him that choice, he’d have to take it for himself.
No, she was too selfish to let him go easily. Too selfish to even let him leave with his own men for a single mission. Kyril was expected to train them, teach them what they needed to know—all for them to earn the right to leave this fucking pocket of time, to experience the real world.
He envied them almost as much as he hated her for keeping him here.
Sekhmet trusted him though, with everything. Even her darkest, most dangerous secrets. In the quietest of evenings, when she was well-fucked and delirious with drink, she would vent about the unfairness of what had happened to her. He would agree, nod, and rage with her—anything to keep her talking. Thanks to all of that, his carefully placed words and perfectly timed questions, he knew.
By the gods, he wanted his freedom. And with his knowledge, he’d ensure he gained it.
When Maya awoke, it was to a painful, pounding throb inside her head. Her face hurt, and her whole body ached. Hell, at this point, even breathing hurt.
Fuck. Me.
With a groan, she opened her eyes and shifted, getting her palms underneath her and pushing herself up. That fucker had hit her hard, if the nausea now swirling in her stomach was anything to go by. Cradling her head in a hand, she stood and glanced around the bar. Amir and Asher both were knocked out, surrounded by a few sand piles dotting the floor.
She trudged over, her steps heavy against the wood floor as she stumbled. It seemed every second, her head cleared a little more, but it still wasn’t quick enough, if you asked her. Sucking in a deep breath, she studied Asher’s features as she crouched beside him. His face was bloody and bruised, one eye already swelling and coloring, while a cut above his eyebrow slowly seeped blood.
Amir was in much the same shape. Even from here, she could see the bruises blooming on his forearms, his knuckles cut and bloody from the way he’d defended himself with vicious intensity.
Leaving them for now, she stood and moved across the way to August, whose breathing was deep and easy. With a soft touch, she shook him and called his name.
He awoke with a start, bursting up from the floor in a fluid movement of muscle and grace. It brought a smile to her lips.
“Sorry, you missed the fight,” she teased.
He looked disappointed for a split second before he saw the way she cradled her head. He crouched down beside her and lifted her into his arms before stalking to the kitchen and depositing her onto the island countertop.
“You’re okay though? Besides an obvious hurting head?” He leaned down to peer into her eyes, and she melted at the concern in his gaze and the affection in his tone.
She nodded before realizing the motion was a big no-no. “Yeah, I’m good, I think. Asher and Amir are still out cold, but they looked okay for the most part.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine, hayaati.”
It was silent for a moment as he gathered ice in a clean dish towel, the clack of the cubes smacking each other a comforting sound. He was taking care of her, and Maya’s heart swelled when he held it to her head.
Still… it couldn’t be avoided. Doubt filled her, and her voice was quiet as she spoke. “But will they? Will you? They have the amulet now.”
He looked doubtful for a moment. “Remember what we read in the library? About the guys who fucked up the first time, which made your
job even necessary?”
Smiling at the thought, she nodded for him to continue.
“Well, based on that story, we’re going to change. Not back to cats, but… into different people, I think. Our morals will change to fit the needs of the person holding the amulet… and assuming that person is…”
“Evil?”
He waved his hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “Basically. If their morals stem from vengeance, or hatred, then so will ours.”
They were quiet for a moment, the possibilities of their situation endless. Would Maya even recognize them when the time came?
“I can’t imagine you being cruel.” Her words were paired with a kiss to his clothed chest as she pulled him closer, setting the ice pack to the side.
“To be honest… I can’t either. I don’t want to be. I need you to know that, Maya, before anything happens. I’m so sorry, hayaati.” He pulled back to cup her face and stare down at her, the emotions in his eyes laid bare for her to see.
Shaking her head, she brushed his apologies aside, her throat closing up with emotion. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.” She tried to lighten the mood. “I’m the Chosen One, remember?” A half smile curled her lips, but even she could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
August chuckled, bopping her on the nose with his finger. “Yeah, and the power of three will set you free.” Rolling her eyes, she laughed off his reference and pulled him closer. Her hand slid over his chest and shoulder, cupping the back of his neck and bringing him down to her.