Emeline turned and faced the guy pointing a gun at her head. A black mask hid his face.
“Remember me?” he said.
Yeah, his voice struck a chord. The guy she tossed into the brick wall, one of the two men Ridley had sent to beat her up outside of the RedZone. He wasn’t much taller than she with a slight build. Even with the gun, she could take him. She just needed an opening. In a second, she planned the attack. Tilt head to the right while shoving the gun up. Punch to the windpipe, uppercut to the jaw will temporarily incapacitate. Not kill. Take a slow breath. Her muscles tensed. Ready. Set. Now.
Hands came out of the darkness behind the gunman, grabbed his head, and twisted. Bones cracked as loud as a gunshot. Then he was gone and the familiar outline of a man stood in his place. Without a thought, she threw herself into Avery’s arms. Tears stung her eyes, but luckily, the darkness hid her face. His arms circled her body and pulled her flush against him. She heard the steady beat of his heart before he set her aside and retrieved the gun from the floor, checked the clip and tossed it. He took his gun from her hand, repeated the process, and handed it back to her.
Joy clogged her brain. “How are you alive? You’re not immortal, like—” Emeline clamped her mouth closed.
Avery’s bloody face came out of the darkness. Eyes dark as coal. Lips pulled back in a mockery of a grin, and his tattoo! Edges of it crept up his neck, like dark flames seeking air. A furrow creased the side of his head where the bullet had grazed him. The blood coating him turned half his face into a macabre Phantom of the Opera mask. “Finish your sentence. Like who?”
“W-what are you?” She didn’t know who to be more terrified of, the man she’d cried over, or Ridley and the men shooting at her.
All of the lights went out. Avery dragged her to him. She didn’t fight. Better to cling to the devil you know than the unknown evil waiting in the dark. His breath fanned her temple, reassuring her that he wasn’t a zombie. Yellow emergency lights came on, which gave the place a funhouse feel.
Avery took her to the opposite side of the row, away from the corridor and elevator. Quietly, they moved two rows up. By their footsteps, Ridley and her crew circled behind them.
“Why did we move here?” Emeline mouthed.
“They want the locker, so let them have it.”
It made sense, especially since the unit was empty. The attack was a sign of desperation. Why was Ridley so desperate, especially if she was the mastermind behind the entire ‘enslave Avery’ operation? What had changed to make them disposable? Ridley cursed and a bullet struck metal. Emeline guessed it was the lock being decimated. The metallic clanking of the unit door rising filled the space.
“There’s nothing here!” Ridley shouted.
Emeline chuckled.
“Give me what you found and I will let you live!”
Yeah, sure. Trust me, said the rattler to the mouse, I’m not hungry. Avery tugged her hand and they inched toward the elevator.
A bright flash of light blinded her and a wave of energy knocked her into Avery. They skidded along the concrete, but he wrapped his beefy arms around her waist and protected her in the shelter of his body when he slammed into another unit.
“Are you hurt?” He helped her to her feet. Before she could answer, a series of deep, throaty barks came from the direction of the light. “Oh shit! We gotta go.”
She didn’t like the fear in his voice. If he was afraid, then what should she be? “What is that?”
Avery shushed her. “I have to get you out of here. NOW.”
A blood curdling scream ended on a gurgle and rapid gunshots erupted near the elevator. She heard Ridley yell and something exploded. The rows of storage units rocked. Avery pulled Emeline behind him.
She caught a scraping sound, like claws trying to find purchase on concrete and failing. Something scrabbled behind them. Fear slowed her and she looked over her shoulder.
“Don’t,” Avery shouted over something that roared behind him. He scooped her up and continued racing toward the window at the end of the hall.
“Oh my God!” She braced herself for the glass shredding her skin and the impact of the fall, but Avery shifted his body and leaped, shoulder first, into the window. He took the brunt of the impact. The window shattered around her. Cold air buffeted them and she almost believed they could fly until the pavement rushed toward them. She didn’t scream; what was the point? She focused on Avery. If this was the end, his face would be her last image.
Brow lowered, eyes piercing, jaw clenched, fierce concentration etched his feature. She wrapped her free arm around his shoulder and buried her head in his neck. His arms tightened as he twisted in mid-air. They crashed into the roof of a parked car with her cushioned in his tight embrace. Every bone in her body rattled. She groaned and Avery echoed her sentiment, but they were alive.
She pushed up and looked down into his face. The streetlight hid nothing. The furrow on the side of his head had healed and the blood had dried a bit. His eyes were still dark and hostile. That didn’t stop her from touching his cheek. “Thank you for…not dying…saving me.”
His gaze shifted from her to the window five stories up. “Don’t thank me yet.”
She followed his gaze. Muzzle flashes and gunshots continued. He scooted from under her and rolled off the roof of the car. A quick scan of the street confirmed they were alone, but how long would that last?
He slid his weapon into his shoulder holster beneath his jacket. Then he set her on her feet and took her hand. The strength of his fingers wrapped her, gave her a much-needed boost of confidence.
She glanced around. They were on the opposite side of the building from where they’d entered and a few blocks away from where they’d parked. His long legs ate up the pavement and she jogged beside him to keep up. They were running away. He was running away, not from Ridley, but from whatever had arrived and was still in the building.
“Something else was there. What was it?”
A crash sounded behind her, followed by two more. A chorus of car alarms blared. She wanted answers, but Avery kept moving.
She slowed, and turned enough to glance over her shoulder. Creatures lurked in the recesses of the alley they had passed.
He tugged her again. Emeline wouldn’t budge. By their glowing eyes, the beings stood at least seven feet, but she couldn’t see all of them. Avery stepped in front of her, blocking her view, but she wouldn’t be denied. She shifted and peeked around his big body. Then wished she hadn’t.
The creatures stepped into the street light. Teeth, gleaming rows of them in a snout. Two inch long claws. Scaly, reptilian skin and eyes with vertical irises. All of it flashed through her mind with lightning speed. Too fast to process. Suddenly, they changed, snout shrunk, clawed and teeth retracted. They morphed from beasts to men.
All of it, the night, Grand, Ridley, Avery, the things staring at her like a snack, crashed together in her mind. Emeline backed away from the impossible. She didn’t stop until horns blared and breaks squealed. Jerked out of her trance, she was standing in the middle of traffic with a car speeding toward her. The car shimmied on the damp pavement. In an instant, she calculated the shrinking distance between her and the vehicle.
I’m gonna be road kill.
Avery shoved her out of the way. She landed a few feet away on the sidewalk just in time to see the car slam into him. The impact lifted him off his feet and threw him twenty feet down the street. He landed on the blacktop, rolled, and gained his footing in one fluid motion.
He shouldn’t be able to do that. No one could do that. He stood and an incandescent armor shimmered around him.
“Run, Emeline,” Avery shouted.
He didn’t need to tell her twice. Emeline ran into the wooded grounds of The Cloisters.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m good, but not this good, filtered through the rage filling Avery. He did a mental check of all his body parts and found everything in working order. In a blacked-out sto
refront, his reflection—and more—caught his attention. Shadowy exoskeleton shimmered.
Avery glanced at his hand. The same ghostly claws extended from his fingers as they had when he clung to the wall of the pit in the factory. Control, whispered through his brain. A hard shake of his head cleared the rage clouding his mind.
The car door squeaked open and the driver rushed over. “Yo, I didn’t see you. You need an ambulance?”
“No.” Avery grabbed the guy by the collar and pointed at the store. “What do you see?”
The guy looked around confused. “A closed store. What am I supposed to see?”
The exoskeleton was still there, looming over Avery. “Nothing.”
“Hey, you a’right? Maybe you got your head knocked about? I’m calling for an ambulance.”
“I don’t need an ambulance, so you’re off the hook. Get out of here.” Avery shoved the cabby back to his car.
“Aww man! You dented my hood!” The guy’s concern for Avery’s life had run its short course.
Avery glanced around for Emeline, but she was gone. In the guise of men, two quimaera waited on the sidewalk. Their vertical pupils fixated on him.
Avery crossed to the other side of the street. He had no idea where Emeline had run. He hoped she trekked back to the car or somewhere safe because this wasn’t going to be pretty.
Now was a good time to call the cavalry. A 911 call to Quin would bring everyone, maybe even Roman with his shiny sword. That’s if he hadn’t disowned him. The ghost claws retracted as he reached into his coat pocket for his phone. His hand slipped easily into the empty satin sleeve. Fucked summed up the situation nicely.
Nearby sirens warbled, but that didn’t stop the quimaera from following him. They didn’t give a rat’s ass about the public. Keeping the existence of these hybrid creatures from his fellow New Yorkers and the world was paramount. And that meant they couldn’t do this on the street.
Avery walked into Fort Tyron Park. He dodged between the trees, up the sloping hills and onto the cobblestone road which cut through the wooded area. The lighted stone façade of the Abbey came into view. Built in the 1930s from parts of abandoned French abbeys, The Cloister was an annex of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a bit of culture in northern Manhattan. Banners hung from lampposts advertising the different galleries showcased for the holiday season and medieval weaponry.
He shot two security cameras before smashing through the glass front door and entering the building. Alarms screamed, but that didn’t slow him. A quick glance at a map in the entryway sent him in the right direction. He jogged through the dim halls, shooting security cameras and completely aware of the scrabble of claws on the stone behind him.
Avery rounded a corner. The medieval gallery was straight ahead. In the center of the room, protected by glass, was a shiny sixteenth-century suit of arms with a broadsword belted at the waist.
He pulled his gun from the holster and fired into the case. The glass shattered and he grabbed the blade. He ran a finger along the edge. Not too dull. In fair shape. His skin itched, crawled. Avery ignored it. In combat, you didn’t trust something you didn’t understand, even if that something was yourself. Too much was on the line to put faith in a strange phenomenon. The sword wasn’t Reign’s ebony blade or Roman’s lightsaber, but it was better than useless bullets.
The two men entered the gallery. Average height and build. Nothing about them would’ve drawn his special attention. That’s probably why they were chosen, for their complete ordinariness, their ability to blend into the general population with none the wiser.
Together, they morphed; jaw, mouth, and nose elongated into a snout. Eyes moved to the side of the head. Magically, clothes faded away revealing scaly reptilian skin. Inch long claws tipped each finger and toe. Rows of razor sharp teeth gleamed. A barbed tail-ended the transformation.
He’d seen it all before on a bigger model. Daniel—AKA Alamut.
Avery gripped the sword in his left hand. Firm, but not strangulation, Quin had instructed. He tested the weight and rotated his wrist.
A red light blinked on a camera situated in a corner of the room. He shot it. Good chance the police were on their way, which could be good or very bad. The quimaera charged. He tossed the suit of armor at the nearest beast. The animal crashed into a display case and went down in a tangle of metal and limbs. Avery dodged a swipe from the other animal and returned with an uppercut to the soft underside of its jaw. He brought the blade up, slicing into the unprotected abdomen, but it was a superficial wound from a blade not sharp enough to do real damage. The animal healed instantly.
Avery shoved it back. Blocked a punch and brought the sword up again. He hacked and sliced, chipping away at the creature while the other gained its footing. The second one backed away as if it didn’t want to fight. That’s okay because he wanted to. The need for blood blasted through any reasoning. Coming after him was a mistake no one lived to repeat.
A shadow peeled away from a corner of the ceiling and took the form of his phantom stalker. Avery glanced between her and the quimaera, uncertain as to how the figment of his imagination had come in contact with Alamut’s army. She hovered, defying gravity, and growing like a malignancy. The lower half of her writhed in an erratic pattern that mesmerized and horrified.
Come to me. The words filled his head along with her name, Khuket, as sweet as a lullaby calming a fretful child. His heart and breathing slowed, thoughts turned sluggish. He stepped forward with the quimaera flanking him. The crawling sensations exploded under his skin. He welcomed it and the accompanying fury.
Khuket rushed to him. Her features no longer ghoulish, but still not quite human. Yes, let the chaos take you.
Her bands undulated with a sensual rhythm that tugged at the swirling darkness inside him. It agreed with everything she said and wanted more. Avery leaned forward, intending to do just what she commanded.
Stay with me.
The voice sapped his will. He wanted to obey, needed to. The core of fury in the center of his chest swelled, stretching the cage he placed it in. Khuket crept closer, dark bands flapping around her rippling form. Her eyes were too large in her pasty face, yet her allure captivated him. She wrapped herself around him. Her lips brushed his cheek, leaving an icy trail to his mouth.
He wanted to taste her, breathe in her chaos, sync with her darkness. Unabated fury singed his nervous system and coursed through his veins. The power intoxicated him. He had forgotten how good invincible felt.
You are mine. She slithered against him.
Avery’s head tilted down, then up in agreement. The tight control he had asserted over himself withered. Somehow, Khuket had rewired his nervous system with her at the controls. A part of him didn’t care, wanted more. An equal part fought.
Her mouth unhinged. Jagged teeth perforated the dank interior. He recoiled, but his Ink writhed in elation at the presence of a kindred soul.
Bullets pinged a nearby stone wall. The quimaera next to him jerked. It dropped to all fours and turned in the direction of the doorway. Twisting in the tight embrace, Avery’s gaze followed and collided with—
Emeline.
She peered around a column, shooting. “Wanna snap out of your trance and try saving your own ass?”
Khuket shrieked. She back away, but she didn’t release him as some of her bands whipped and cracked in the air.
Emeline glanced up. Her eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
She saw her—it! The thing wasn’t a figment of his imagination.
A quimaera charged after Emeline. She ran around the corner, out of his eyesight. He lurched after her, desperate to reach her.
“You shall stay.” Khuket tightened the bands around him, constricting his chest.
As long as he had breath, never. He pulled at the bands, yanking furiously to be free.
A scream rent the air.
Shots fired.
NO! Avery peeled her tentacles from his body and wrenched himself
out of Khuket’s tight embrace. In a blink, he was in the hallway.
Emeline lay on the ground, the quimaera over her, mouth open, its teeth centimeters away from her neck.
Avery leaped, arms extended, claws gleaming like polished onyx. He landed on top of the scaly back and thrust his claws through the armored hide. The beast reared, violently twisting and turning to dislodge him. It launched both of them into the nearest wall.
Smashed between the stone wall and the animal, Avery clung, he wouldn’t let go. The exoskeleton took the brunt of the force. When the animal pulled free, he climbed up it’s back, hooked his arm around its neck and dragged his claws across the beast’s vulnerable throat. Another slash and the head lifted from the shoulders. He tossed it, and as the body dropped, he rolled to his feet in front of Emeline. “Are you hurt?”
She lay against a stone column, breathing hard. Her wary gaze skimmed over him. He could imagine what she saw.
“Don’t worry about me. Worry about them.” She pointed to the remaining quimaera coming up behind him—and Khuket.
“Can you move?” He stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. She groaned and shifted. He dared not take his eyes off his enemies.
“Yeah.”
Avery listened as she climbed to her feet. “Then get out of here. Don’t look back.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Her voice was low, as if pained. He gave her a quick glance. She was on her feet, gun in her hand. “I still have bullets.”
“Jesus H—stay behind me.”
“That’s a brilliant idea. Never would’ve thought of it myself.”
He didn’t know whether to be angry at her snide remark or elated she had enough energy for smart-aleck replies. An open courtyard with paved walkways and a fountain in the middle lay to their right. He tilted his head in that direction. Emeline shuffled that way, her steps unsteady.
Damn it. She’s hurt. He had to get her to a hospital.
Obey me.
Compulsion coated each word. His muscles quivered. His soul wanted to comply. Avery gritted and fought his own will for dominance over his body—and he was losing. Nothing had ever affected him this way.
Evermore (Descendants of Ra: Book 3) Page 20