Everlasting (Descendants of Ra: Book 2)

by Tmonique Stephens

  He didn’t move. His gaze never left her face. Those intense eyes did something to her, threw her off balance even though she had the upper hand.

  A grimace tightened his face and his jaw shifted as he grounded his teeth. For a second, his blue eyes glowed. Didn’t they? She blinked hard to get her bearing.

  His gaze took a slow drift south. Heat suffused her body, baking her from inside out. She wanted to glance down to see if her hastily thrown on robe had opened, revealing way too much.

  “On. The. Ground.”

  He stood and she moved further away, out of his reach. He filled the room until everything shrank in comparison. A muscle flexed in his jaw. His eyes darkened or was it just the lighting in the room? First glowing, now darkening.

  What’s wrong with me?

  A sliver of fear shafted her. She squelched it and backtracked her way around the coffee table to the clear space near her bedroom. Reign followed, then dropped to his knees and lay flat on his stomach. It wasn’t a hardship staring at him stretched out on her living room floor.

  “Hands behind your back.” Alexis prepared her handcuffs while she watched him rotate both hands behind him. Carefully, she approached, completely aware of the tiger by the tail cliché. She dropped her knee—hard—into the small of his back. He grunted, as if her five feet, eleven inches, one hundred and forty pounds meant a damn thing.

  Alexis had a single cuff around one of his thick wrists when he rotated his hand and grabbed her forearm. He tugged and twisted onto his side. Pulled forward, her knee slipped from his back and her legs straddled him. An arm banded around her waist and flipped her onto her back. His big body pinned her to the carpet. Air whooshed out of her lungs. Her gun was still clutched in her hand. Only now, it rested above her head, secured by one of his.

  Every inch of him touched her. Chest against chest, abs against abs and groin—

  “Get off!” Her intended yell came out as a desperate hiss.

  He eased up and shifted, causing his chest to brush her nipples through her robe. To her horror, they pebbled, hard little bullets tenting the satin. If he noticed, he didn’t react. Through the curtain of hair, she could see his eyes. They were clear now, and deep blue. She also glimpsed the sharp planes of his face. A lapsed Catholic, she didn’t hesitate to say a quick Hail Mary while waiting for his next move.

  “Hello, Alexis.”

  Her name was rough on his lips. “How did you know where I live?”

  “I know many things about you.”

  “Really? I know nothing about you. How did you get in here?” She waited for him to answer, but he made no reply.

  “Do you remember nothing of last night?”

  His rumbled words vibrated within her. “It’s a little mixed up in my head.” A headache flared between her eyebrows. “You were there, at the club.” Her limbs trembled annoyingly. “I remember you.” A picture of him moving with the fluid grace of a big cat floated in her head, and nothing else. Her stomach flopped and her skull threatened to split open. “How did you know where I live and how did you get in here?” She repeated.

  He took the gun from her hand and effortlessly scooped her from the floor. Held against his body was no better than being beneath him. At least her stomach settled and her head decided to stay attached to her neck. She glanced up and met his gaze again beneath the fall of his tousled hair.

  “Are you unwell?” he asked.

  His accent was exotic, fucking erotic. The man was a drug she refused to take. “I’d be better if you let me go,” she snapped.

  Slowly, she slid down his body. The satin bunched under his hands and cool air fanned her ass. He released her and backed away. “Do not fear me, Alexis. I would never harm you.”

  “So says the man holding my gun.” She met his steady gaze without flinching.

  Reign glanced at the weapon clutched in his hand. He marched forward, holding her gun in his palm like a waiter carrying dessert. She backpedaled into the opposite wall. He crowded her until she couldn’t see anything but him. Then he grabbed her hand and pushed her weapon into her palm.

  “You think this protects you from me? Use it. Many have tried to kill me. Perhaps you will succeed. I have lived long enough to earn my patch of earth,” he whispered close to her ear.

  A shiver raced through her. Blood pounded in her veins. Bitterness edged his words, but his hair hid his face. She needed to see him, to read his expression. So many emotions could be contrived, but real bitterness was hard to manufacture. If this wasn’t a pretense to intimidate her then she wanted to know what happened to him.

  “I don't want to kill you. I want to arrest you, send you back to jail.”

  He jerked and flicked his hair back, exposing a furious face.

  “Send me back?” The room hummed with his anger. “Never—” he vowed inches away from her lips. “—will I return to that place.”

  Alexis stared into his angry face. Her free hand crept up and she touched his cheek.

  Reign flinched. She almost drew away, but he closed his eyes and turned his face into her palm. A sigh ruffled her hair, stroked her temple. He jerked away, stalked a few feet to the opposite side of the room, and paced.

  Why did I just do that? Shaken, her body and senses couldn’t sort themselves out, so she clung to the only thing she could. Alexis extended her gun and reached for her cordless phone on the end table. “You’re under arrest.”

  He stopped-and disappeared.

  Choking on nothing but air, Alexis crumbled. She slid to the floor. With her knees to her chest, she buried her face. Finally, she’d done it, lost her fucking mind. Everything that just happened was a figment of her imagination. Her career in the NYPD was over. Hell, her whole life was over.

  Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. “You’re not real,” she whimpered. “I need to be committed ‘cause last night didn’t happen and you're not here.”

  “I do not know if I am real or not. I came here to save my brother and kill Anubis’s champion, yet there are beasts roaming the streets.” His chest heaved. “Then, there is you.”

  She pulled away, struggling against his hold until she looked into his eyes. “You’re not real.”

  Pain spread across his face. “Though I acknowledge I am different, I believe I am as real as you. Your mind is sound.”

  She still had her doubts; however, she kept her opinion to herself and pulled her arms from his grasp. Distance. The more space between them the better. She needed to not be near him. She crossed to the other side of the room.

  “If you’re real, answer my question. How did you disappear like that?” She heard the hysteria in her voice and fought to quell it.

  “I don't know. My will makes fading happen.”

  “Fading? Is that what you call it?” Reign nodded. His answer didn’t make her feel better. “Is that how you got out of jail? You faded and walked right outta there?”

  “Yes.”

  His cold eyes studied her, picked her apart. More pieces of last night flooded her brain. She remembered him lifting her, carrying her out of there. Didn’t he? “You brought me here. How did you know where I lived?”

  “I am always with you. I cannot leave your side.”

  She shook her head. “Huh? I-I don’t understand.”

  “Since the night I arrived here from Chemmis days ago, I have not been able to leave you.”

  “That’s impossible. I would know if you were here,” she blurted. He disappeared again and a familiar coldness chilled her skin. The cool air bathed her, snaked beneath her robe, and caressed her intimately. He appeared again, inches away.

  “I cannot leave you. I have tried, yet I cannot.”

  Her thoughts scattered like a deck of cards tossed into the air. Wordless, all she could do was stare.

  “Please, do not fear me.”

  “Tell me what you are.” Instead of a command, her voice was a thready, breathless whisper.

  “I am Reign. Born in the city of Te
mpyra in Thracia more than two thousand years ago. I am immortal.” His stony expression betrayed nothing.

  Woodenly, she nodded, but it was too much. “Can you please leave, disappear, go, do whatever it is you do? I need a m-moment.” She blinked and he was gone.

  With her gun by her side, Alexis searched every room of her apartment. She was alone, but she wasn’t. He was still here. Somewhere. She sensed his presence in the cold air surrounding her.

  He said he’d been here for days, in her apartment, attached to her. Days. That meant he’d been in her grandmother’s house also. If he couldn’t leave her that meant work, the factory, Eleventh Avenue, and the bodega. Had he been in her bedroom? Seen her change?

  She glanced down at her body and that’s when it hit her. She hadn’t stripped out of her clothes last night, leaving only her bra and thong.

  He had.

  And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Alexis was wrecked. Not drunk. Just a wreck. Yet, somehow she dragged herself up, barricaded herself in the bathroom to shower and throw on some clothes. She slapped on some makeup to hide the duffel bags under her eyes.

  Yesterday started with a prayer, strolled into a good idea, then turned bad quick before decomposing into a stinking mess. She called her union rep and asked to push back the meeting. He called five minutes later with a no-go. Internal Affairs wouldn’t reschedule.

  Great. She hopped in her car with her personal air conditioner riding shotgun. Maybe if she ignored the invisible man next to her he would go away. Not likely.

  She cruised by the club to see if her bike was still in the parking lot and lo and behold, it was gone. Either towed or stolen. The latter would be easier to explain. She’d have to check impound after IA.

  She made it to police headquarters with ten minutes to spare. Then through security, the elevator, the receptionist, and inhaled a ragged breath when her butt eased into a chair in the Internal Affairs conference room. The rectangular mahogany table gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. Her throat dried when she saw a water pitcher and glasses an arm’s length away near the center. On her right sat her union representative, on her left, her attorney. Across the table were Harold Roberts, the Chief of Detectives, and Edgar Wallace, her captain. They were already here, early. Beneath the table, her fingers twisted her pants leg and her foot jiggled.

  A breeze caressed the back of her neck, calming her. He’s here. In the same room.

  God she hoped she wasn’t the only one who could see him. If they saw him, then they wouldn’t think she was crazy. Maybe they’d help her get rid of him.

  “Are you listening, Lever?” The Chief pounded the desk.

  Yanked from her thoughts, Alexis flinched and nodded, “Yes sir, I am.”

  “You ignored the rules of this department and common sense. You took a witness into your private residence and then lost her,” the Chief continued.

  I didn’t lose her. Stella Walker left on her own accord while I barely survived. Not that anything she did was right in the department’s myopic eyes. She could handle sexism. Growing up in a military family with three older brothers, sexism was the toast at breakfast. Since when had being a good test taker become a handicap? Oh, yeah, since joining the NYPD.

  Intelligence can only get you so far, Lever, McCabe had intoned the first day she showed up with her gold shield clipped to her waist. Like he would know.

  “Can you tell us what the hell happened at the bodega on Eleventh Avenue two days ago?” The Chief’s flat tone gave nothing away.

  When in doubt, tell the truth, her father always said. She couldn’t tell them the man who had escaped custody in New City was now stalking her. Oh, and he’s invisible. And standing behind her. Not if she wanted to stay out of the psych ward at Bellevue Hospital.

  She opened her mouth, but her attorney spoke.

  “My client will not be commenting on the incident until she’s seen a physician.”

  The Chief nodded. His eyes narrowed a fraction, assessing her. “I was going to give you a reprimand and let you return to work. Then you pull this shit upstate and faint on duty. Some think you’re a loose cannon, Lever. I think you're a danger to yourself, and worse, a danger to my department.”

  Danger? She wasn’t a danger when she’d found the evidence linking Roman Nicolis to the attack in Central Park. Stella Walker didn’t think she was a danger when she called her for help. Last night when she’d faced those beasts, she’d been the one in danger.

  Reign had saved her. She didn’t remember everything, but she remembered him stepping in and taking a blow aimed at her head. She had checked the news before she left the house. There was a report about the brawl at the club, though nothing about the beasts. Reign killed the three that were there. More lurked, she was sure of it. Could they hunt down the rest, together?

  “I could’ve fired you after the stunt with Stella Walker, but damn Roman Nicolis! He pulled in a lot of favors to keep you employed. After yesterday though, you’re on indefinite suspension pending an investigation into your conduct.”

  “Huh?” She leaned forward. Somewhere in the course of her mind wandering, she’d missed a key point of info. “W-what did you say?” The union rep tried to shush her. She ignored him.

  A cold wind circulated the room, casting the loose papers comprising her employment folder into the air. Her hair whipped about. Alexis ignored the men chasing papers. She swiveled and focused on the arctic storm at her back. An outline of a man showed through the swirling wind.

  Please God, not here, not now. She ignored the fact only moments ago she wanted him to be seen.

  “Where the hell’d that come from?” The Chief tried to fix his comb-over. When no one answered, he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this meeting over with, Lever.”

  Refocused, Alexis turned her chair around. “What does Roman Nicolis have to do with these proceedings?”

  “He bailed your ass out of hock, that’s what.” He closed the file on the table.

  “Nicolis did what?” She lurched to her feet and banged her knee into the table. Her lawyer grabbed her arm and tried pulling her back into her chair. She yanked away.

  “I got a call from Judge Grayfield and Senator Orley over your bullshit!” The Chief bellowed. “No one tells me what to do.”

  But apparently, they had. “Sonofabitch,” she gritted.

  “Daniel Nicolis’ body is missing and Roman Nicolis is concerned about your welfare,” Captain Wallace stated. “He pulled a lot of strings. I don’t know what you did for him to leave such a positive impression.” He sneered. His cold gaze assessed her.

  “That’s uncalled for, Wallace,” her attorney defended her.

  Wallace’s mouth snapped open for a reply, but the Chief cut him off. “I can see what you're thinking, Lever, and let me say this. Roman Nicolis is the only thing keeping me from firing you. You drive up to his house and piss him off if you want.” He leaned forward with a sick grin plastered across his face because that’s exactly what he wanted her to do.

  She couldn’t lose her job.

  “This’ll go into your permanent record. I can't imagine how disappointed your parents will be. Hopefully, it won’t ruin their anniversary,” the Chief added.

  She plopped back into the chair. Of course, he would remember their anniversary. It was only days away. Frenemies and rivals with her father since boot camp, the Chief would probably be there. Fuck! She’d forgotten. Her mind shuffled through her repertoire of excuses, searching for a way out of the looming disaster.

  “We’re done here. You’re suspended with pay until further notice.” The Chief gathered his papers and left. Wallace trailed behind him.

  They might be done. She wasn’t.

  Alexis grabbed her purse and marched to her car. She tossed everything into the back seat, slid behind the steering wheel, and slammed the door. Reign sat, crunched in the passenger seat.

  “You will take me to my
brother.” He whipped his hair back, away from his face. Those eyes of his drilled into her, demanding she comply.

  Oh. My. God. The height, the build, the facial structure, and those blue eyes. How could she have been so blind?

  “Yeah, I’ll take you to him.” And leave you on his doorstep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Alexis planned on pounding on Roman Nicolis’s front door and demanding entry. Unfortunately, his front door was open. Well-dressed women and handsomely attired men wandered between the house, the garden, and the maze. The grounds were resplendent, decorated in white and gold and nature’s brilliant fall colors. A server handed her a flute of champagne when she crossed the threshold into the large marble vestibule. Good. She needed it. The first sip left her taste buds thirsty. She emptied the glass and grabbed another.

  The grand staircase waited to her right, guarded by a man in livery uniform. Four corridors branched out from the rest of the room, but everyone seemed to gravitate to the hall on her extreme left.

  Whatever they celebrated, she couldn’t care, but she did pillage the plate of mushroom caps before making her way further. Reign walked next to her, solid and so real. At the next fork in the road, she ditched him. They both sought the same man. Let’s see who reached him first.

  “He manipulates my life and then parties the night away,” she grumbled while threading through the guests. She passed a solarium and a library before ending up in the ballroom at the back of a crowd.

  She knew he was rich but damn. “Who has a ballroom in their house?” At the edge of the room, she easily spotted the tallest man. Roman stood head and shoulders above most of the onlookers. Whatever event he had going on, she’d piss on it. Alexis elbowed people out of her way. What she had to say wouldn’t wait for privacy.

  She nudged the last body out of her way as At Last by Etta James began to play. Roman pulled Stella close. His arms wrapped around her slender waist and they began to sway.

  Alexis’s jaw swung loose and she gulped a mouthful of air. This wasn’t a party. It was a god damn wedding reception! Stella looked exquisite in a silk organza mermaid wedding gown similar to the one Alexis had drooled over in a bridal book when she and Paul were dating.