Grave Vengeance

by Lori Sjoberg

  “I thought you already translated that thing,” he said as he closed and locked the door behind him. She’d worked like a fiend back at the hotel room in Virginia, deciphering the story that made Patrick believe he could pull off an insurrection.

  “The picture we had didn’t show all of the text,” she said by way of explanation. Her gaze flicked to the bucket. “Catch anything?”

  “Not this time. It’s about to start snowing. I’ll try again after it stops.”

  “Sounds good. Could you put on dinner while you’re up? I’m starving.”

  “I thought it was your turn to cook.”

  “Yeah, but I’m on to something, and I don’t want to stop.” She batted her lashes at him. “Please? I promise to make it up to you.”

  The mischief in her eyes intrigued him. “How?”

  Her fingers skimmed along the neckline of her shirt, just above the swell of her cleavage. “Remember that thing I can do with my tongue?”

  How could he forget? Dmitri nodded because his mind forgot how to form words.

  Gwen raked her gaze over him, slowly, deliberately, and her mouth quirked in a sly grin. She licked her lips, probably because she knew how it affected him. “That’s nothing compared to what I’ll do to you this time.”

  All of the blood in his brain flooded south. He shifted his weight from one leg to another to adjust the fit of his pants. “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  He glanced toward the kitchen, trying to think of a meal he could cook with the limited supplies. If it were just him, he’d go for quick and simple, but his Gwenya deserved something better. A recipe came to mind that he’d made a while back, and inspiration struck. They didn’t have all of the ingredients, but with a few substitutions, it should work. “I’ll have dinner ready in an hour.”

  After starting the rice, he cored and peeled four apples, chopped them into bits, and set them into a bowl. Then he mixed in spices until it all tasted about right. When the rice was ready, he blended it all together, put in a pan, and set it in the oven to bake.

  He’d just finished cleaning the mess he made when he heard Gwen mutter, “Aw, shit.”

  Curious, he tossed the dishtowel on the counter and crossed to where she was working. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  Biting her bottom lip, she turned the artifact over in her hands. “Either Patrick didn’t research Akkadian history, or he doesn’t realize there’s a second side to the artifact.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Well, the front tells the story of the king’s quest to achieve godhood.” A pair of lines creased the space between her eyes as she tapped the relic with her index finger. “The back chronicles what happened when the king tried to enter the god’s realm.”

  “That bad?”

  Gwen nodded, her scowl deepening as she read from the text she’d translated from the artifact. “The goddess Inanna, enraged by Shu-Durul’s intrusion, expelled the king from her realm and vowed to punish his kingdom. The skies darkened, and the ground dried until all of the crops ceased to grow. With his armies weakened and his people starving, barbarians descended from the mountains and laid waste to the land. The death of the king and the fall of the empire ushered in a dark age that lasted one hundred years.”

  “Sounds biblical.” Dmitri moved a stack of papers so he could sit on the floor beside her. His thigh pressed against hers, and the contact made his body hum. The fire in front of them popped and crackled, and it would have been romantic if they hadn’t been talking about death and destruction. Even so, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips because he couldn’t be this close and not do it. “That’s a harsh punishment for one man’s overreach.”

  “What do you expect from a deity?” she asked. “They’re not exactly known for their gentle demeanors.”

  She had a point there. From his experience, omnipotent beings had shitty tempers. A couple years ago, one of his fellow reapers had defied Fate to save his woman and nearly damned his soul in the process.

  Imagine what she’d do to someone stupid enough to attempt a mutiny.

  Still, the tale sounded too tall to be true. In ancient times, misfortunes and disasters were often blamed on deities because people simply didn’t know any better. “Has it ever occurred to you that this artifact might be nothing more than an ancient fairy tale?” If so, they were doing all this for nothing, and wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?

  “Of course, but I think it’s rooted in historical fact.” She flipped through the stacks of papers on the floor until she found what she must have been searching for. “Listen to this.” Her eyes narrowed as she read from the page. “The Empire of Akkad collapsed in 2154 BC when the Gutian hordes invaded from the Zagros Mountains. Next to nothing is known about the Gutians’ origins since no artifacts have been discovered from their civilization prior to that time period. Aside from the names of their kings, nothing is known of their language either. Most accounts describe their reign over the Akkadian people as barbaric and exceptionally brutal. Being nomadic, they had no concern for agriculture, written records, or public safety, and as a result, crops failed, famine spread across the land, and the empire fell into a period of decline. After nearly a century, the Gutians were finally forced from power.” She looked up. “Some of the texts credit a Sumerian king for driving them out, but others say it was Marduk, a Babylonian god.”

  Dmitri paused to let the information to sink in. “Okay, so an empire fell four thousand years ago because their ruler was a complete idiot. Does that mean Ziegler’s followers will get the same treatment when he tries to invade Fate’s realm?” If so, he’d give anything to be there when it happened.

  “Maybe. I don’t know for sure. But I think there’s something much more serious to worry about.”

  “Like what?”

  She glared at him as if the answer were obvious. “Think about it. The Gutians seemingly came out of nowhere, spoke an unknown language, and overwhelmed an entire empire. Where the hell did they come from?” She tapped the surface of the artifact. “What if the Gutians were creatures who came into this realm when Shu-Durul breached the void between dimensions?”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” he said, curious to see where she was going with all this.

  “Damn right it’s possible.” A troubled look settled over her again as she slapped the papers down on top of the stack. “And that means it can happen again if Patrick opens the rift.”

  “Fuck.” He hadn’t considered that angle. Dmitri rubbed at the tension growing along the back of his neck. “Maybe we should just destroy it.”

  Gwen shook her head. “There’s no way of knowing what will happen if we try. For all we know, damaging it could trigger something a whole lot worse.”

  A sense of foreboding settled in Dmitri’s gut. Stupid reapers didn’t last long, and they worked in a business that fostered a healthy sense of paranoia. Most were good at thinking outside the box and seeing angles that others missed. If Gwen was spooked, she probably had a good reason, but he didn’t want to fuel her fears. “You worry too much, zaika,” he said, forcing his tone to remain light. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Gwen lifted her chin and met his gaze, her face tight with genuine concern. “What if it opens a rift we can’t close? For all we know, we could let something through that makes the Gutians look like Girl Scouts.”

  Chapter 17

  “Did I tell you how much I enjoyed dinner?” Gwen asked as she played with the hairs on his chest. Her hair was tousled around her face, her lips swollen from kissing and sucking him. Body flushed and muscles relaxed, she had the wanton look of a well-pleasured woman. It was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen.

  “Repeatedly, but you’re welcome to say it again.” Dmitri stroked a hand down the length of her back, and she stretched against him like a cat. Knowing he’d satisfied her both in and out of bed pleased him on a primal level. Over the last two days, he’d learned what she liked,
what she loved, and what drove her wild. And every time they made love, he made sure she was sated before taking his own pleasure.

  Unable to resist, he kissed her. She moaned against his mouth, her tongue sliding against his in the way he really loved. He held her tightly against him, one hand tangled in her hair and the other at the small of her back. The feel of her, the taste of her. The little sounds she made. He doubted the craving would ever go away. Already, he was painfully aroused, his cock aching with the need to be inside her again.

  For the first time in ages, Dmitri remembered what it meant to want a future. To care about someone more than he cared about himself. To dream of a life together. A sliver of doubt crept into his thoughts, reminding him of what happened the last time he made himself vulnerable to a woman.

  No. He refused to let the ghosts of his past haunt him. At least not today. Their time together was destined to be fleeting, so why ruin it with memories of betrayal?

  Gwen broke the kiss and pulled back, a frown tightening her brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Dmitri smiled, forcing the doubts from his mind. Gently, he pulled her on top of him so her thighs straddled his hips. “Ride me, Gwenya, the way I like.”

  Her gaze met his, those hazel eyes smoldering. A sly smile lit her face and lit something inside Dmitri. Slowly, she took him inside her, her pink-tipped breasts inches from his lips. Back bowed, she braced her hands against his chest, her fingers curling and her nails scraping his skin.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Her voice sounded husky.

  He nodded as the pleasure rippled through him. “Oh, yes. Just like that. Now do it some more.”

  “Pushy bastard.” Her laughter was low and throaty. Her inner muscles contracted, squeezing him with tight, wet warmth. Eyes half-closed, she lifted her hips, and as she came back down he bucked hard, plunging deep into her core.

  A strangled sound escaped from her throat. Lips parted, her head dropped back as her hips began to move faster.

  Dmitri’s hands skimmed along her sides, slid inward to palm her breasts. She moaned when he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, moaned louder when he took one into his mouth.

  God, how he loved the way her body reacted to his touch. To him. She sucked air through her teeth when he lightly bit her nipple and then soothed the sting with his tongue.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, her skin slick with sweat. She was close. He could feel the tension building inside her, her body nearly vibrating with the need for release. Panting, she peered down at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and dreamy. Mixed with the lust, he saw deeper emotions, and the knowledge both terrified and thrilled him.

  With a growl, he matched her thrust for thrust, relishing the soft little whimper she made when she was about to come. Her mouth slacked open while her eyes nearly closed as she lost herself in the rhythm of her movements.

  Tremors echoed inside her and pulsed around his cock when he noticed a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Something dark, tall.

  Immortal.

  He froze.

  The effect wasn’t lost on Gwen. “What’s wrong?”

  Before he could answer, a dour British voice sounded out from the far end of the room.

  “I give you one simple assignment to complete, and instead I find you rutting like animals.”

  Gwen shrieked. In a move that probably defied several laws of physics, she vaulted off Dmitri, twisted around, and buried herself beneath the blankets.

  Dmitri’s eyes thinned to slits. “Your timing sucks. Haven’t you ever heard of privacy, or do you just like to watch?”

  Samuel smirked. The suit he wore was midnight blue, his dress shirt freshly starched. And even though he looked like a refined British gentleman, there was no mistaking the predator that lurked beneath the pretense of civility. “If I wanted to watch, I’d find something more engaging.” Back stiff and shoulders squared, he peered down his nose at them. “Really, Ms. Peterson. I expected more out of you.”

  The covers rustled, and Gwen’s tousled head popped out. The flush of embarrassment had faded from her cheeks, replaced with fresh indignation. After tucking the sheet under her armpits, she sat against the headboard and glared darts at Samuel.

  “What are you doing here?” Dmitri demanded, his mood growing darker by the minute. It was one thing for the boss to pop into his house uninvited. But to interrupt a private moment? Inexcusable.

  “I came at the request of your subordinate, Mr. Javorski.”

  Ah. Adam. He’d told the kid to contact David Anderson, another fellow reaper, if Dmitri didn’t call in three days’ time. And in turn, David must have contacted Samuel to alert him of their situation. “Did you talk to Cooper?”

  “I did many things, but talking wasn’t one of them.” Samuel chuckled to himself as if relishing the memory, and for a second Dmitri felt sorry for Cooper. “You should have alerted me to the circumstances.”

  “Sorry,” Dmitri said, “we’ve been busy.”

  A muscle flexed along the line of Samuel’s jaw. “Obviously.”

  Dmitri ignored the dig. “By the time we got the artifact and determined the threat was real, we were stuck out in the middle of nowhere.”

  The harsh planes of Samuel’s face shifted like a wolf scenting prey. “You’ve located the artifact?”

  “Yes, it’s out by the fireplace. Want it?” Getting the artifact out of their hands would make their job a hell of a lot easier. With the threat of insurrection off the table, they could concentrate on capturing Patrick and his followers.

  Samuel shook his head. It was always difficult to gauge his moods, but something in his expression seemed off. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Why not?” Gwen asked. “Is the story on the tablet not true?”

  “Oh, I assure you, the account is quite accurate.” Now Samuel looked outright uncomfortable. He shifted his weight as he tugged on the cuffs of his shirt. “But the artifact is imbued with a dark magic that bars me from assuming possession.”

  Well, that wasn’t the answer Dmitri expected. Over the years, he’d encountered a lot of weird shit, but nothing more powerful than the boss. “What kind of dark magic are we talking about?”

  Samuel crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Gwen grumbled. She had that pinched-up look on her face that she got whenever someone was on her last nerve. “How can you expect us to do the job without the proper intelligence? If you’re going to use us for cannon fodder, the least you can do is let us know what we’re up against.”

  “I don’t appreciate your attitude, Ms. Peterson.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”

  “She’s right,” Dmitri said, surprised to find himself acting as the voice of reason. Personally, he’d rather beat the information out of the bastard, but he knew better than to try. “If you want Ziegler contained, then we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  The air around Samuel crackled with raw power. For a long moment, he didn’t say a word, but his body language was deafening. “Very well. I assume you’re familiar with Akkadian history.”

  “Yes,” Gwen said, and Dmitri nodded.

  “When their king came up with his fool idea for godhood, he enlisted his priests to devise a course of action.” Samuel paused to brush a piece of lint from the lapel of his suit coat. “Of course, the priests had no idea how to accomplish such a feat, so they called on their deities for help. And unfortunately, one of them answered.”

  “Fate?” Gwen asked.

  “No, don’t be ridiculous,” Samuel sneered. “She’d never commit an act so reckless. But Fate has kindred, and some of them take pleasure in toying with humanity. One of them offered inspiration to the priests in the form of dark magic powerful enough to tear a rift between worlds.”

  Gwen nodded with understanding. “And that’s how the Gutians came through.”


  Samuel’s mouth tipped up. “Clever girl. Yes, that is exactly how the Gutians invaded. Nasty little buggers are worse than cockroaches. They took advantage of the window of opportunity to breach this realm’s defenses. It took Fate the better part of a century to eradicate the infestation.”

  Omnipotent beings playing God with the locals. Invading hordes destroying empires. This mission was getting more fucked up by the minute. Dmitri scrubbed a hand across his face. “You still haven’t told us why you can’t take this thing.”

  Samuel let out a tired sigh. “Because its creator forged the artifact with a spell that protects it from interference by my kind. Are you familiar with the rule about two positive charges repelling each other?”

  “Yeah,” Dmitri said.

  “Same principle.”

  Shit. “Can we destroy it?”

  Samuel shook his head. “I’m afraid dark magic cannot be dispelled by anything within this world.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do with it?” Gwen asked, her voice shooting up an octave.

  Samuel stared at her as if the answer was obvious. “Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.”

  “Great,” Dmitri grumbled. “We’ve been saddled with the fucking Precious.”

  Samuel’s head tilted to one side as he flashed Dmitri a puzzled look. “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind.” Gwen jabbed Dmitri in the ribs. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  “Good. And when can I expect you to resume your mission and apprehend Mr. Ziegler?”

  “As soon as the weather improves and we can hike back to civilization.” Dmitri glanced back toward the window, where flurries could be seen falling from the sky. The cabin couldn’t be far from an access road, but without knowing exactly how far they were from town there was the chance they could freeze again.