He got up, paced, tried to outpace the memories. “Propane tank exploded. Took out half the trailer. The blast knocked me into the bathroom on the other side of the room. My back was on fire. Stop, drop, and roll. I remembered the lesson from school. I put the fire out and crawled to my brother.” He paused, unsure of what to tell her, what was real. “Carried him out of there. My stepfather died from the blast. My mother, from smoke inhalation. Five months in foster care, separated from EJ, then Roman found us.” That was his official memory. The flashes of him still in the burning trailer, covering EJ with his body as the inferno consumed them? The unofficial memory was there, waiting to be certified and filed in the appropriate slot in his memory bank. Finally, his gaze met hers. “It was too late for me to feel anything but anger. Too late to change my course. I never let pain out, kept all the rage inside. Where it still lives.”
He knelt beside her on the bed. “We are not like other humans, Emeline. We are touched by the gods. Every action we take has consequences. Holding the pain inside you will fester into something monstrous. Grand wouldn’t want that, not for his Eme.”
“Everything…every single word…everything I’ve said to you…has been a lie.” Tears swam in her eyes, turned them into shimmering lakes before she slammed them shut.
Avery brushed away the tears spilling from the corners of her eyes to her temples. He no longer cared about her lies, but she did and that’s all that mattered. “Why did you lie?”
“She threatened Grand. To get to you. And I caved. I let them use me and Grand still died. Nothing I did changed anything.” She squeezed her eyes shut, but tears still leaked between her lashed. Sobs wracked her shoulders.
“Why did she want me?”
She rolled away from him. “I don’t know. She never said.”
Avery pulled her back to him. “Open your eyes, Emeline.” He commanded and stared into their tortured depths. “You tried to protect your family. I would’ve done the same.”
“No!” She knocked his hands away. “I’m supposed to lead you into a trap!” She dashed her tears away. “Would you have done that?” She pushed against his chest, but he wouldn’t move.
He grabbed her hands. “It doesn’t matter what I would’ve done—”
“Yes, it does. You would’ve found a way not to be used. I gave in, did what she said, and look where it got me?” She laughed, a brittle sound that stabbed his heart.
The cry started low, almost a throaty groan, then morphed into a scream which built into a melancholy wail of despair and loss. Nothing in her world would ever be the same, and she knew it, fought the acceptance of the cruel facts—Grand was gone.
Tears ran down the sides of her face, into her hair. He didn’t try to brush them away, but let them flow unchecked. She coughed, choked on her misery constricting her lungs. He turned her on her side and let her continue.
Someone knocked on the bedroom door.
He locked it behind him, but that wouldn’t prevent anyone from breaking it down. “Do not enter,” he yelled.
“Everything all right in there?” Roman asked.
“No. But it will be. Go away, Roman.” Avery hadn’t taken his eyes off Emeline.
Her cries had reduced to broken sniffles and her gaze strayed to the bedroom door. Voices whispered in the hallway. If he had to guess, Roman, Quin, Thane, and Hector. Avery trusted Hector to keep everyone at bay and out of his way.
“Who did this to you?”
“Why? So you can go and kill them?”
“Yes.” That’s exactly what he planned to do.
“No,” she growled and yanked her hands away. “I will kill them. Every last one of them will pay.”
Vengeance, even a small taste, would rot her insides. He understood the emotion well. No point arguing with her now. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom and carefully wiped her swollen eyes and red nose. Even with a puffy face and runny nose, she was still beautiful. He grabbed a bottle of water from a mini-refrigerator camouflaged within the nightstand and brought it to her lips.
She gulped it down and curled back into a fetal position. Avery pulled a blanket over her. He needed to speak to Roman. As he pulled away, she clutched his fingers.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me for being kind, Emeline.” That wasn’t what he wanted from her, even if that’s all he could ever have.
“Yes, yes I do.” She sniffled. “You have been nothing but kind while I-I…”
He kissed her softly. “Sleep, Emeline. Get some rest and we’ll talk later.” He made for the door.
“Avery…?”
The needy panic in her voice halted him and broke his heart.
“Will you stay? …Please?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Khuket hovered about the smoldering remains of the warehouse. Both her prey had been here. Their lingering essence told of their battle more clearly than the destroyed building. By the devastation, Avery had grown stronger. How else could he have survived an attack from Alamut?
A ripple of pleasure swept through her. Chaos and strength. Maybe Avery could be more than her nourishment. A tantalizing thought, she put away for further consideration.
Below, firemen and the police swarmed, picking over the carcass of the structure. Invisible, she glided down amongst the authorities. The destruction was immense. The fire devoured everything it touched, leaving ashes, and the nesting pits. Several of the men huddled around them, peering inside the charred hole. Their queries filtered to her. Humans and their limited perceptions. They would never understand the preternatural worlds grinding against their dimension, much less the gods amongst them.
Khuket tuned out the rest of the conversation and floated over the fallen statue of SET. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she murmured into the fractured plaster. The subtle hum of power captured her attention, the signature of a sacred relic.
Black shards peaked through the ashes and fractured pieces of the statue. muftah aalam. Key to Duat. The last pieces of the puzzle had just fallen into her lap. She plucked them from the ashes. A long forgotten entreaty whispered from her lips. A prayer of thankfulness to gods only she remembered for a blessing finally delivered.
She moved away, but another sight halted her. A clutch of Soul Catchers gleamed in the debris near the statue's feet. Ivory, pearl, tiger’s eye, sapphire, and amber. Each Orb had the carved cartouche of a deity: Aten, Ma’at, Anubis, Nephythys, Hathor, and Osiris.
Anu’Ra of the gods.
Reverently, she scooped each from the ash, certain to retrieve every single one. In the palm of each hand lay her future and the demise of the Egyptian Pantheon.
She turned back to the statue. “I will conquer this world and you with it. Prepare for your demise.” But she didn’t have the power to bring all her dreams to fruition. Even after siphoning Avery’s power, using EJ, and the full moon in two days, it still would not be sufficient to eradicate her enemy.
For that, she would have to return to Chemmis with the Orbs and drain every god in the pantheon. Impossible. They would stop her before the deed was done.
Could there be more?
Her gaze swept the area, leaving nothing to chance when a twinkle caught her attention. Her bands swirled in excitement. She flipped over a plank, sending it flying across the room. The building rumbled, affected by her growing excitement. A crystal waited to be discovered. Her breath exploded in a rush.
“Do you hear panting?”
“The only thing I hear is your heavy breathing, McCabe. I’m gonna buy you a gym membership.”
“Go to hell, Jones. What did you think was in these pits?”
Khuket zeroed in on the precious object. An eon seemed to pass as she stretched, wrapped her fingers around the smooth surface, and snatched it from the ground. Energy hummed within the piece and vibrated the darkness within her. Her form quivered in ecstasy, scattering the debris around her.
“Did you see that?”
“E
verybody out! It’s not safe.”
If she had a heart, it would’ve seized. Every pain she had suffered, the enslavement, her torture and the destruction of her people, ebbed beneath the onslaught of absolute joy.
Shaped like a large egg, an oasis under a blazing sun was etched deep in the surface. That’s not what she craved to see. The name. She needed the name. She rolled the Orb in her palm. Carved deep into the precious relic was a cartouche with the true name of her greatest enemy.
For the first time since the Egyptians descended from the heavens, Khuket smiled.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Emeline’s eyes flipped open and she jerked upright in the bed. Her heart raced; breath whistled through her clenched teeth. Her palms were outstretched, reaching, a scream ready to rip from her throat. Sweat clung to her skin beneath a thick robe. The remnants of a dream still streamed through her brain, the flames so vivid, the smell of smoke so ripe. Grand’s face, his startled expression when she failed to reach him—and his body laid out on the cold street with a blue tarp as a blanket.
Her heart gave a vicious twist. Days ago, he was alive. Soon, he’d be nothing more than ashes in an urn. She was the last of her family. The Gamble bloodline ended with her, at least this branch of the tree. Sudden loneliness smothered her, and there was nowhere to hide.
Beside her, Avery slept, his face relaxed. All traces of the rugged mercenary she’d come to know and rely upon had vanished; leaving smooth, unworried features. She’d never guessed this lay beneath his granite surface.
He shifted in his sleep and his hand absently stroked her back, distracting her from the constant pain. He hadn’t left her side. A huge part of her wanted him to go away, not remind her of her failure as a human being every time she looked at him. Yet a larger part of her needed him to help her breathe.
That part of her clung to him, required his presence to simply function from one moment to the next. It disturbed her, on every level of her being and she had no idea what to do about it.
Her head throbbed and her skin itched as if a colony of termites had found a home under beneath the surface. She wanted oblivion, desperately needed it.
Take it.
The absence of thought and reason, no memories of the past few days…no grating guilt.
Take it!
A few precious moments of feeling nothing—mindless sex had always achieved that goal. Two bodies pounding together until exhaustion made them cease, not think about burying her grandfather, and the long days after when vengeance would be her only companion.
Could she do that with Avery? Shut down her emotional grid and treat him as just a body with the necessary appendage?
Take, whispered through her veins.
God, her skin itched. The robe felt like a straitjacket. She unbuckled the belt, let the satin glide through her fingers, and parted the halves. She stripped it from her arms, enjoying the sensation of it gliding down her back and the cool air on her skin. Something was happening to her. Something dark, sinister. She reveled in the toxic stew and the numbness spreading from her heart. For sweet oblivion, she’d welcome the devil. Her gaze turned to Avery. Not only did she need this, she wanted this.
Emeline swung her leg over his hips and straddled his slumbering body. She settled her weight right where she wanted it to be. He mumbled a few incoherent words and shifted to accommodate. She slid her hands under his tee shirt. He had the softest skin, and so warm. Heat raced up her arms and chased the chill from her veins. She stroked his flat nipples which instantly tightened into hard nubs.
Then skimmed her hands down his ribs. She leaned forward and rubbed her lips back and forth over his until—with a sigh—they parted, and she slipped her tongue inside. He tasted of the wine they had consumed at dinner. Red, fruity, heady. He stopped her at two glasses when she wanted more. Wanted oblivion. Now she would get drunk off him.
She stroked his palate and brushed her tongue against his, demanding a response. A groan eased from his throat and beneath her hands pressed to his hard chest, his heartbeat picked up pace.
He curled his tongue around hers and drew her deeper. She pushed his shirt up and ran her fingers along the muscular ridges of his chest. Her palm skimmed a nipple, rolled the rigid peak between two fingers. Between her legs, he lengthened and she rubbed against his sweatpants.
Emeline plunged her tongue deeper into his mouth. A guttural sound erupted from his throat and he dropped his hands to her knees. Calloused palms caressed their way up her thighs, to her hips, ribs, to cup her breasts with both hands. He thumbed her nipples, causing them to pebble, and everything inside her to pull taut with need.
“More,” she demanded and nipped his bottom lip.
Avery’s eyes popped open. He blinked rapidly with dawning awareness and gave her body a slow perusal. By his bobbing Adam’s apple, she’d swear he’d just swallowed nervously.
Flushed by the heat of his stare, she leaned forward for another kiss. “I want you, now.”
He grabbed her arms, halting her attempt. “No.”
No? He said no? By the thickening ridge trapped within his sweatpants, which nudged her core, no was not the answer he wanted to give. She wiggled her bottom. “Why?”
He gripped her hips. “This isn’t what you want. You want to ease the pain and this isn’t the way to do it.”
What did he know? He’d met her a few days ago and now he knew what she thought? How she felt? Dared to think he understood her pain? He hadn’t lost anyone. Buried anyone he loved. No one he loved had died in his arms. He’d saved his brother while she lost everyone she’d cared about. Tears blurred her eyes so she couldn’t see Grand’s last breath. But she heard it and the sound would forever echo in her ears.
She yanked her arms free. “Don’t give me your two-bit psychoanalysis and tell me what I want.”
She jumped off him and scrambled from the bed. With a snatch and two jerks, she had the robe on, the belt tied. “I wanted to get laid, no discussion, no negotiation, I just wanted a few damn minutes of not thinking about every single thing I did wrong. That’s all. Thank you very much.”
Emeline stomped toward the bathroom. She knew she sounded like a spoiled brat, yet she couldn’t stop herself from lashing out at the only person who’d help her get through this nightmare. The one man who had protected her saved her time and again. It wasn’t his fault Grand was dead. The blame lay completely with her and the remorse carved a hole in her heart.
But she couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of her, the fury coursing through her blood and the need to hurt him as she hurt.
“Emeline!”
His sharp voice spun her around. He sat on the settee at the foot of the bed, elbows braced on knees, head slightly bowed, but his eyes, even from the distance, they were fully green and pulling her back to him.
“Come. Here.”
Authority vibrated from each word, draining her will to refuse. She returned and stopped inches from him.
“Exactly what do you want from me?” All gentleness had left his features, leaving angry planes. His green eyes were frosty. His lips grim. Everything about him accused her and he had every right to.
Remorse assailed her. How had she failed so brilliantly?
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Emeline hadn’t realized she’d lowered her gaze and his order grated. She glowered at him while he waited for her answer. A war unfolded between their heated glares. His eyes reproachful and condemning. Her chin hitched up. She did what she had to and she was the only one who had the right to judge.
“Answer me.”
First Ridley, now Avery, too many people thought they could order her around as if she were a biddable dog, eager to obey. She was tired of crying, tired of the pain, tired of the guilt and everyone dying around her, tired of Avery always being there. Just damn tired.
She balled her hands. Avery’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move a muscle.
Her fists rose. Took aim at his chin and
jaw. Avery tilted his chin, giving her the perfect target. Resignation, not anger, flared in his eyes.
Her hands trembled, waiting for a decision and all she could think about was, What am I doing?
Her fist dropped to her side and she gasped, stunned by her own savagery. “I’m sorry.”
“Answer the question, Miss Gamble. What do you want from me?”
His rough voice kick-started a heavy pulse in her veins, fueled by an intense flare of heat only Avery could create. Wait. Miss Gamble. Impersonal, distant…cold. Not him—her. Having him treat her as a stranger he’d met only a moment ago, stripped all heat from her soul. Left her a cold shell that nothing could warm, made her a little crazed, and set her on a path to her own destruction. “I want to get done.”
His lips thinned into an ugly line. “You sure?”
Was she? Her need wasn’t about passion. Too many lies and death had passed between them for passion to take root and flourish. This was about sex and oblivion. Emeline squared her shoulders. “Positive.”
Avery fisted the robe and hauled her to him. In one yank, he had her stripped and tossed onto the bed. His big, hard body landed on top and stole the breath from her lungs. He pinned her before she could move.
The plush bed beneath her, the unyielding chest pressed to her pillowed breasts, Avery whispered close to her ear. “Last chance to change your mind.” His breath stroked her neck and sent a shivered warning down her spin.
She stared into his livid green eyes. They dared her to back down, retreat for her own good. She’d never retreated from anything and wouldn’t start now.
Besides, this is what she wanted, a few moments away from the grief. Going to war with Avery would do exactly that. And on a deep, no longer buried level of her fucked up psyche, this is what she deserved. Pain traded for more pain. Sorrow instead of love.
She angled her chin and stiffened her spine. “Ready when you are.”
***
Avery stared into Emeline’s hazel eyes and saw the anguish dwelling within. No matter what she said, she didn’t want mindless, random sex. And if that’s what he gave her, she would hate him and herself when it was over. That’s not what he wanted for them and he wouldn’t have that on his conscience, or hers.
Evermore (Descendants of Ra: Book 3) Page 30