A cry of despair wafted in the air. Anubis’s head tilted, a smile graced his marbled features. “He’s re-educating Nephythys on the virtues of a proper wife. Ra willing, it will take centuries.”
Energy completely spent, hope completely gone, she sunk into a puddle of random particles. “What does the most loved son of the Great Lord SET want?” she gurgled.
He sauntered over to her and halted a few feet from her edges. “You are a pitiful excuse for a goddess. I shall list your failures. You gain your freedom with a promise of vengeance and fail. Reign Nicolis is free, a demi-god, and enjoying his new lease on life with his ladylove. The army you stole—from me—now belongs to Alamut, my former protégé. You have no power because you cannot feed.” Disgust crossed his harsh features. “You eat, digest, like a lowly cow munching in a field. And you call yourself a god? The Goddess of Chaos.” He cackled. “The only chaos you’ve created has been within yourself.”
Anubis stepped over her and passed through the glowing barrier.
He shook his head, a sneer curled his lips. “SET thought you could defeat me? You couldn’t even hold on to the dagger which brought you here. I should deal with you myself while my father takes care of his errant wife, but he will not thank me for interfering.”
With a flick of his head, the barrier faded. “I suspect he shall be busy for a while. Use the time wisely to redeem yourself. Though I doubt that will save you from his wrath.”
She didn’t trust him, wouldn’t put her faith in another Egyptian. “Why are you helping me?” she croaked.
He shook his head. “Anything or anyone who gives my father a moment of displeasure, pleases me. You have made me very happy.” Chaos wafted from his body and seeped into her dying form.
It wasn’t the Michelin star meal she slurped from Avery’s delectable core, but more like the barely palatable sustenance SET forced her to digest when he first released her to do his bidding. She took it inside her and was grateful when her body coalesced. When she glanced up to thank her tormentor, a vortex swirled in the doorway.
She rushed through the portal before Anubis changed his mind and tumbled back into the same warehouse. Teetering on exhaustion, she slid to the floor, but arms propped her up.
Khuket jerked away, prepared to strike the human who dared to touch her. She faced a woman, petite in stature, slim in form with a shock of short platinum blond hair and red leather covering every inch of her. Was she a minion of Anubis or SET, sent to destroy her? The woman would not succeed, just as Nu and Hathor hadn’t.
“Great Goddess Khuket, I’m Ridley, a disciple of the Eidos, and I am at your service.” The woman dropped to her knees and prostrate herself on the cold ground. “I will take you to your new home and your new disciples,” the human said.
Disciples! Devotees meant prayers, offerings, sacrifice, and power. Dare she hope to have finally found allies?
The Eidos, once the only inhabitants, ruled when the planet was a smoldering rock. Elementals. When the Earth cooled, they swarmed the skies, the deserts, and the seas, the valleys and the mountains, controlling all of nature. Then Egyptians descended from the cosmos and the Eidos were no more. Their powers stolen, most of Khuket’s race simply faded. Others escaped and hid, were turned into slaves…or continued to wallow in Duat.
Khuket studied the human. She was utterly unimpressive in stature. Though a signature of power did emanate from her. “How many disciples?” Khuket asked.
“Hundreds. The members of The Order are your descendants. For centuries, they have worshipped your image, Goddess. Waiting for your return and now you are here.”
‘They’ worshipped her. Did that mean Ridley did not? A lie or the truth lay in the wordage of the sentence. “How did you find me?”
Without permission, Ridley stood. “I tracked you.”
“How has a human managed that feat?”
“I have certain abilities. I can track the offspring of the gods. Their DNA leaves a residual, a smudge on a person’s soul. I’m attuned to that defect.”
Interesting and valuable. She will be useful, if proven trustworthy.
“Follow me and I will take you to The Order, your new home.”
The human had spirit, but a human would never command her. Chaos bands unfurled from her body and seized Ridley. They wrapped around and slammed her to the cement floor. Best she understand her place at the beginning of their relationship. “Why should I follow you?”
Ridley didn’t struggle, didn’t cry out for mercy. She took the punishment and smiled as she said, “Because…I will deliver Avery Nicolis to you, eager to do your bidding.”
Chapter Ten
Avery twisted in midair. A scream waiting at the top of his throat. His hands outstretched, he caught hold of something. A ledge, a perch, he clung to a piece of the wall. Grateful, he glanced up. There wasn’t a ledge. He hadn’t caught a perch. Ghostly claws had sprouted on his left hand and dug into the wall from which he hung. At his wrist, he glimpsed the edge of a tattoo peeking from the sleeve of his shirt. A tattoo that hadn’t been there. The only ink on his body was on his shoulder covering his burned flesh.
“Avery!” EJ gripped the catwalk, trying to swing his body over. A rope appeared between them. EJ reached for it.
“Don’t...” Avery ordered, too late. The catwalk broke free and went tumbling into the pit. Taking EJ along for the ride.
Avery leaped and snagged the rope. He wouldn’t let his brother die. Not now. Not ever.
At the last second, before the fire sucked EJ in, Avery hooked his taller, heavier brother around the waist. He expected torture and wasn’t disappointed. His right shoulder wrenched from the socket. A burst of pain exploded from the joint, turning his entire side hot. He swallowed the agony and forced his numb fingers to cling to his brother. The momentum carried them to the ladder where they crashed. EJ grabbed onto a slick rung and Avery, preventing the same momentum from carrying him away.
Avery released the rope. He used his good hand to grab the ladder and hooked his feet to keep from falling. “Climb,” Avery said to EJ, hoping his brother didn’t notice his dislocated shoulder and dangling arm.
EJ grabbed Avery by the collar and reeled him in. EJ’s eyes were wide, slightly wild. His breath rasped, smelled of barbeque potato chips.
“Climb, EJ, or are we gonna spend the night here?” Avery head-butted him, a love tap they gave each other when things got close, hairy, scary, but they dare not talk about it.
Some sanity returned to EJ’s eyes. “Do that shit again, I ain’t coming for you,” he grumbled and started up the ladder, but whipped back around. “What’s wrong with your eyes?” he whispered.
Somehow, Avery managed to touch his face, expecting another scar. “What?”
“They're not green anymore. You got a corner of black in both of them.” EJ pointed a finger and came dangerously close to poking Avery’s eye out. “You are getting stranger by the fucking second.” He climbed.
Finally, EJ made sense.
Avery dangled a moment longer. He glanced down at the dying flames. Black tar replaced the goop. And Roman? Avery looked up and spotted him up top. The glowing eyes and matching sword were a dead giveaway.
How’d he get up there? Then Avery remembered how Reign appeared and disappeared at will in RedZone and at the mansion. Roman and Reign were twins. Makes sense that each would have the same power.
A cold anger settled within him. Time for some answers and Avery didn’t take kindly to being left to die. He sucked in a steadying breath and slammed his shoulder against the wall. Another bright burst of pain, then a satisfying numbness spread down his arm. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision, not the pain. At times, pain was the best thing that could happen to you. It focused you, made you lethal, sometimes feral.
Didn’t matter anyway; in a moment, the miraculous healing powers of the Nicolis men would kick in and all would be fine. Before he could finish the thought, a tingle started in his fingers as st
arving nerve endings came back to life.
A minute later, he climbed. One rung at a time. The damaged muscles beneath his scars and tats gave off a dull ache, like a quiet roar of an old lion. After all this activity, his arm should be a noodle, but he had strength, fueled by a mounting rage.
EJ held out a hand. Avery knocked it away and finished the journey on his own steam. Hands braced on his knees, he sucked in a steadying breath and stood.
Knuckles connected with his chin, rocking his head back. His brains scrambled, but his instincts kicked in. He caught the next blow with his fist. On his right hand. His gaze darted to Roman—who struggled to break free—and at his own arm, which strained but didn’t buckle. He shouldn’t be able to do this, especially after just dislocating the joint, yet he was.
Avery pushed Roman back and ducked beneath the blade aimed at his neck. Once, twice, he got in close to Roman, delivered an uppercut and a kick to his chest. Roman skidded backward, nearly tipped into an adjacent pit. His hand ripped through the concrete, turning it to rubble as he slowed to a stop, then lunged.
Avery braced, he crouched low, and brought his fist up. Ghostly claws had sprouted once again, from his right fist and he hadn’t imagined the tats. He caught more of them peeking beneath the edges of his sleeve. He had a brief second of ‘Oh shit, they shouldn’t be there’ before he refocused on the battle.
Quin, EJ, and Thane jumped into the breach. Thane grabbed Roman while EJ grabbed Avery. Quin filled the remaining gap to keep them apart.
“What are you?” Roman shouted.
He questioned me? “What am I? What the fuck are you!”
“Both of you stop!” someone yelled.
“Tell us, Roman. What happened? What did Reign do to you? Where the hell did you go?” Avery snarled.
Roman flung everyone away. “I died. Only I didn’t. I woke up in a dirt prison, my insides on fire. Alive, but not alive.” His eyes blazed. The wattage on the blade increased.
“What do you mean, ‘alive but not alive’?” Avery shielded some of the glare with his hand. The claws were still there, though slightly transparent. Either they hadn’t been noticed or they couldn’t be seen. He flexed his shoulders, ready to finish this, eager, starving—as if this taste of violence wasn’t enough.
“You heard me,” Roman growled. “That’s all you're going to get until you answer my questions.”
“Quid pro quo, brother.” Avery’s muscles were too tight, too ready. He wanted to rip something apart. Starting with Roman. Irrational, maybe, but Avery was too far gone to stop.
Roman raised his sword. Dropped into an attack stance. They all did. As usual, EJ took position at Avery’s weak right side.
“You challenge me?” Roman said softly.
“Yes.” One word. No other explanation.
At the same time, they both lunged. Thane jumped between them, trying to keep them from killing each other. He tackled Roman along with Quin while EJ slammed into Avery. Banged against the cement floor, his rattled brains didn’t divert his intentions. Avery tossed EJ off him and gained his footing. Roman had already done the same to Quin and Thane.
“Traitorous bastards!” Roman growled.
“That’s right. We’re traitors. Every one of us,” Avery said.
Roman’s gaze swept over all of them. His glowing eyes dimmed as indecision warred.
“First Daniel. Then Reign. Who’s next? Which one of us will turn? Can’t decide? Kill us all. That’s what a mercenary would do,” Avery said. “That’s how you trained us.” Avery wanted it. Never had he been this eager for a brawl, for pain. Not since—a cold wedge settled in his gut dousing the fire eating away at his insides. What the hell was wrong with him? He shook his head, trying to clear the chaos clouding his mind.
Roman eased from his attack stance. His eyes returned to normal and the blade vanished, leaving the hilt clutched in his fist.
Tension bled from Avery, pulling him back from the precipice. “Don’t deny it. In your shoes, I would’ve thought the same. But I’m not a traitor. Never will be.” Uncertainty tainted his words. He decided not to tell Roman of his urge to kill him. Now wouldn’t be the time to volunteer his unwarranted vicious tendencies. God knows he had enough warranted ones. He turned away and checked the pits. In silence, the others did the same.
“Empty over here,” Quin called in one corner of the room.
“Same here,” Thane said in another corner. They went round robin until the entire room was searched.
“They're all empty.” Roman’s eyes glowed again with a soft backlight.
“What are you, Roman? What’s changed?” Avery wouldn’t let go. Roman refused to answer. The stoic bastard stood there.
“What the hell is going on with us?” EJ muttered. “Wide World of Weird. We need our own reality TV show. The other pits are empty.”
“What now?” Thane folded his arms under his chest. “They could be anywhere.”
EJ shook his head. “Not true. They like dark, undisturbed places. How many places are like that in New York?”
“Not just New York. Try the tri-state area.” Quin sighed. “I’ll start searching.”
“Are we good here?” EJ’s question landed with the finesse of a grenade at a church social. They all glanced at each other, then Roman. His hard face gave his answer.
“Let’s get out of here.” Roman headed for the door and no one stopped him. They lock-stepped behind their leader.
“Good. I need a drink,” Avery murmured, bringing up the rear, and he knew exactly where he wanted to get one.
Chapter Eleven
Emeline picked up a tray of drinks and winced from her aching side.
“Are you all right?” Zachary rushed over to help which surprised her. The owner of RedZone didn’t like getting his hands dirty. Manual labor was beneath him, but he knew about the ‘break in’, her attack, and Grand back in the hospital.
She’d visited him before her shift began. A bruise on his hip resulted from the fall. His doctors were testing him for dementia again. Normally, her grandfather would’ve talked rings around them to disprove the notion he was old or disabled. This time he agreed with everything they had wanted. When they finally left his room, he turned his rheumy gaze on her and clutched her hand in a vise-like grip. Age spots were splattered over his arthritic knuckles. “How much trouble are we in?”
We? As if he was Robin to her Batman. She’d laugh if she weren’t chin deep in shit. “We are not in trouble.”
His lips thinned into a scowl. “You’re the last of us, Emeline. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It wasn’t her grandfather’s job to take care of her.
“Thanks, Zachary. I got this.” She maneuvered her way through the crowd to the busy tables and low hanging balloons announcing the grand re-opening. Management had used the brawl two weeks ago to renovate the interior. They expanded the main bar, got rid of the second bar to expand the dance floor, and added more poles for the exotic dancers.
She served her drinks, suffered the many pick-up lines her skimpy uniform elicited, and returned to the bar. Zachary hovered nearby, getting in everyone’s way.
“You can stay with me for as long as you need,” he yelled above the music. “You don’t have to be alone; I can keep you safe.”
As if at one hundred and fifty pounds, five feet, five inches, Zachary could protect her from a killer. He couldn’t protect himself from a rash, never mind Avery Nicolis. She went against her type dating Zachary a few years ago. She liked her men big, bad, and hard all over. Lincoln, her last boyfriend, had left such a bad taste in her mouth and a smear in her life, she’d sworn off men for the past year. Not much good it did when she had a stalker.
Crashing glass brought her back to the present. She glanced in the direction of the noise and spotted Stacy cleaning up the mess. A packed bar was not the place to get distracted, and this conversation needed to end. “What about my grandfather? Got room for him too?” She laughed at his
hesitation.
Her amusement withered when Avery and two of his brothers, EJ and Quin, entered the building. She glimpsed his profile and followed his progress as the men bulldozed their way through the crowd to their personal table in the VIP section.
Six feet, four inches of muscles, topped with more muscle, slathered with testosterone. Yet, his stride had grace and a purpose which made bodies move the hell out of his way or get run the hell over. He was a predator, as were all the Nicolis men, and everything with a heartbeat recognized him as such.
For a while, she’d thought she had the upper hand, playing spy. Double O nothing. How stupid of her not to notice the tables had turned.
No, the table had never been on her side.
After she’d stopped stalking him, he’d started showing up here. She thought he’d made her, but he’d never said a word, never approached. Not once had she caught him looking her way with those forest green eyes, though she’d fantasized about catching him looking. During her assignment, often her thoughts had turned carnal as she speculated about the killer she stalked and what he would do to her if he discovered the truth. She thought she’d dodged a bullet. Now, she knew better. If she had any sense she’d run…
Not without Grand.
Zachary went to greet his guests, while she watched and weighed her options.
“Get your ass over there.”
Emeline didn’t have to turn to know Ridley stood next to her. Still, she glanced at her nemesis’s dark wig and short red dress. Too bad she didn’t have the body to fill it out. Emeline sucked in a slow breath. From the moment the EMTs wheeled Grand away to this second, she’d spent searching for a way to get out of this situation. Yet no magical solution appeared. Taking a 92-year-old on the lam wasn’t advisable, but what else could she do? She wasn’t going to whore for the Order.
By the time she looked again, Ridley had vanished. The bitch certainly used her abnormal speed to her advantage. Thought she was invincible since no one could pin her down. Quick in and out, but there were a few things that could slow her down when the time came to kick her ass. And as sure as the Earth rotated around the Sun, that time would come.
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