by T. M. Cromer
“We’re working to figure it out, child. Be patient.”
“I can’t…” She paused to get her hysteria in check. “I can’t be patient. Seeing him in such excruciating pain is killing me.” The speed with which all this madness had taken place was astonishing. Was it only yesterday morning Nash had brought up the plan to steal the necklace? Ryanne had believed he and Liz were kidding. “Liz!” she cried. “Liz and Nash had been planning to get the necklace for a while, or at least that was the impression I got when we spoke yesterday. Is it possible that she has information we don’t?”
“It’s worth a try,” Aurora agreed. “I’ll get her and bring her back.”
“Be careful, my love. Go straight there and come straight back. I don’t trust Victor not to attack when everyone is distracted.”
Ryanne got the impression there should be an “again” attached to his statement. It was more about the look the couple shared than any other reason, but she couldn’t shake the feeling Victor had already used that technique to strike at the Thorne family.
After Aurora disappeared, Ryanne and Alastair strode to where Nash once again rested quietly. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair back from his face, and in his uneasy sleep, Nash turned toward her touch.
“Has Victor done something like this before?” she asked softly.
“Not this exact thing, but yes. He’s part of a warring bloodline who has it out for our family.”
She raised her gaze to meet Alastair’s stare. “Anyone associated with you will never be safe, will they?”
“No.”
Biting her lip against the flow of profanity rising up, she nodded and looked down at Nash. “He’s collateral damage in this stupid-ass war of yours.”
“Not if I can help it.”
A viciousness welled in her chest and hate flooded her being. She whipped her head up and glared. “But you didn’t help it, did you? Because of you, he’s going to die. Tortured by some nasty piece of work who—”
Her ugly speech was cut off when hands jerked her back from the altar. All the fire inside was instantly banked. A dying ember. She looked around at all the faces staring in shock. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Spring patted her arm. “I do. It’s why I pulled you away. The scorpion was poisoning your thoughts.”
“But I didn’t touch it.”
“You didn’t need to. I noticed it early on at Thorne Industries. My sister and Nash were both acting out of character. With your sudden anger, well, let’s say, it shouldn’t have taken me that long to figure it out.”
Ryanne focused her attention on Nash. Had she not been watching, she’d have missed the movement of the scorpion as it appeared to burrow deeper into his skin. “Dear God!” She grabbed Nash’s hand and, acting on instinct, pulled the next wave of his power into her. The boost of energy knocked her flat on her back. She bit her lip and saw stars when her head slammed into the hard-packed earth. It felt as if all her blood and brain matter had pooled in that one spot in her skull.
Spring and GiGi got to her first. As Spring produced a handkerchief and dabbed at the blood on Ryanne’s mouth, GiGi worked gentle fingers along the back of Ryanne’s neck and palpated the bump forming on the back of her head.
A simple incantation by Nash’s aunt took away Ryanne’s headache and cleared her thoughts. “I need to get that thing off him. I don’t care what I have to do.”
With a determination and courage she didn’t feel, she approached Nash’s still form. As she grasped the edges of the shirt, the jewel-encrusted tail rose up to strike. “You can’t have him,” she said fiercely. “He’s mine!”
Chapter 19
With a simple flick of a wrist, Alastair assisted Ryanne by splitting the material of the Henley in two. She didn’t have time to admire the beauty of Nash’s well-built chest. All her focus was on the little beast doing its damnedest to take the life of the man she loved.
“I read about you, ya know,” she told it. “About why you were created and whose lives you were meant to destroy.”
Ryanne inched her fingers closer and had to fight the desire to pull back as the tail surged higher and vibrated. The late afternoon sun reflected off the silver and illuminated the glow of the precious stones. There was no doubt that she’d get stung in the process of removing it. What had someone said? That the tail contained poison? A tear spilled on the back of her wrist. Nash’s life was worth any price she had to pay.
“But I also read that Isis took pity on the couple. That she tried to remove the curse your mistress put on you. I don’t believe you want to be evil. No creature does.” What the hell was she saying? She was talking to a fucking piece of jewelry, for goodness’s sake! “Please let him go. Please. He’s a good man. He means so much to so many. He means so much to me.”
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a type of light show, but she didn’t dare divert her attention from the ruby arachnid for a second. She inched the tips of her fingers closer and managed a single stroke along its rippling back.
“I love him.”
Stroke.
“If you need a sacrifice, take me.”
The third stroke resulted in the tail plunging toward the vulnerable skin on the back of Ryanne’s hand. The wicked-looking barb never pierced her flesh. It stopped mere centimeters away, but the intent was obvious.
She glanced around, expecting to see the other occupants of the clearing as stunned as she. Yet they all stood frozen in place. Had she done that? Was she one of the rare witches who could freeze time?
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The silky, slightly menacing tones of another woman drifted to her from over her right shoulder. A stranger to this crowd, if Ryanne was to guess.
When she would have turned to see, her body refused to cooperate. Her paralyzed state only allowed a shudder of terror. “Who are you?”
Wild laughter tinged with insanity echoed across the glen. “I am the downfall of the Thorne Witches, girl.”
“You’re Serqet.”
Ryanne wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. Perhaps she recognized the unhinged laughter from her dream earlier this week, or maybe she understood that only a goddess would have the ability to contain this powerful group in one fell swoop, but whichever it was, it was doubtful that she was mistaken.
“Smart. You get that from me.”
“You?”
“You’re a descendent of my line, girl. Did no one teach you about your history?” she snapped.
Another woman’s voice entered into their conversation. “These newer generations of witches. They have no understanding or respect for the old gods and goddesses.” Her tone of voice was slightly mocking and full of merriment.
Ryanne suspected she recognized this goddess, too. “Isis?”
“Yes, child.”
Isis stepped into view.
Ryanne stared in wonder. The woman was freaking gorgeous. Black hair hung down her back with a wide gold band encircling her head. She was dressed all in white in a gossamer material that sparkled in the low light. Around her waist was a gold, braided rope-like belt that hung almost to the ground. High upon her arms were gold bangles shaped like asps.
“You’re beautiful,” Ryanne blurted.
Isis’s lips twitched, but she held back the amused smile that was clearly gleaming from her eyes. “Thank you.”
The hair on the back of Ryanne’s neck lifted, and an uneasy feeling slithered down her spine seconds before she felt the hand of Serqet touch her back.
“What are you doing here, sister?” Serqet didn’t bother to conceal her anger or loathing.
“It is a fine day for a stroll in the glen, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that you are once again determined to ruin my plans.”
Ryanne remained silent and watchful. Whatever war was playing out between these two, she wanted no part of it.
“What exactly would those plans entail, sister? Or do I need to guess?”
<
br /> “No need to guess. I’m after the lives of your favorite toys.”
Isis’s mouth flattened into a thin white line. “And what is your idea to achieve this?”
A finger stroked Ryanne’s hair. Fear kept her throat clogged and her mouth closed. Across the altar, she met Isis’s watchful gaze.
“Do you know, this girl was the one born with all the power of past generations? Generations of my kin who were denied what should have been theirs by right. Who, because of you, lived their lives in the shadows.” Serqet’s temper had been building as she spoke. Her not-so-quiet rage frightened the area wildlife beyond the glen and sent them running.
Apparently, only the humans were frozen in place.
Serqet wasn’t done with her tirade, but her voice was more controlled when she said, “She is of my line and of our brother’s line. She and her sister, the first of their kind. The fire Ryanne contains inside is as powerful as a nuclear blast, and she would never feel the burn.”
What the what? She was a walking Chernobyl? Was it only a matter of time before she decimated the area and people around her? Did Rylee have the same ability?
“What do you intend to do with your human bomb, sister?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Serqet laughed. “It’s simple, really. Victor and Rylee so obligingly set this chess game in motion. Now, the queen will take the board.”
Ryanne dug deep for the courage to speak. “What am I missing here?” she croaked.
“You can save yourself and destroy those in this clearing, or you can die. Excruciatingly slowly.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed. “And Nash?”
“He’s dead either way. My pet has pierced his heart.”
A sob worked its way up from the deepest region of Ryanne’s soul. She barely managed to contain it by biting the inside of her cheek. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and she fought not to gag.
“How do I unleash my powers?” she whispered past her emotion-strangled throat.
“It starts as a single spark in your cells. You visualize it building, engulfing all the souls around you at once,” Serqet instructed. The glee in her voice was unmistakable.
Was it possible to melt the necklace with her heat? If she’d have paid more attention in science, she might know what burning point could melt metal or destroy the jewels. Where was the power contained in the necklace? The head, the body, the tail? Any questions might arouse suspicion. She shot a furtive glance at Isis, looking for some type of help, but the goddess’s attention was on the woman behind her.
“Why do you hate me so, sister? What did I do to wrong you?”
“You dare ask that?” Serqet stormed to Isis’s side, her hands clenched to her breasts. “You took away my revenge. Because of your interference, I lost nearly everything.”
“Your punishment by Ra was a result of your actions. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Serqet pointed toward Spring. “You have protected her at every turn. And him!” For a split second, her eyes softened on the tall man with the shoulder-length blond hair moving toward them. “He loved me once.”
“Maybe. But it was centuries ago, and you destroyed any affection he may have had for you with your continued attacks on his bride.”
“Exalted Ones.” Knox bowed his head slightly but never took his eyes from Serqet as he continued moving in an attempt to place himself between the goddess and Spring. He held one hand behind him, and from Ryanne’s angle, Knox looked to be gathering elements into a glowing ball.
So as not to give away his actions, she glanced down. A second attempt to move her frozen body proved useless. Whatever spell that evil piece of work had cast on the clearing was still in effect. How was it that Knox could move?
Serqet addressed him now. “Months ago, I gave you the option to become my consort to save your woman. I am offering you the option again.”
“I can’t let you hurt her,” he said softly. “I won’t.”
“You cannot stop her.” Serqet nodded her head toward Ryanne. “She has the power to destroy you, Knox Carlyle. I’ll take great delight when she does.”
* * *
Knox met Ryanne’s frantic gaze. She had no desire to hurt anyone. That much was clear. How Serqet intended to use the poor woman was anyone’s guess. Isis showed no concern, but then again, her standard enigmatic expression wasn’t always easy to read.
When he had blocked Spring’s body with his own, he breathed an internal sigh of relief. The second he’d noted the sounds of panicked animals fleeing the woods around the clearing, he hurried back to the standing stones. Across the distance, he saw Quentin’s prone body and prayed for everyone’s sake that the guy was okay.
It wasn’t until Knox reached the inner circle of the stones that his mind connected the dots as to why everyone was locked in place. Of course, his first instinctive response was to get to Spring. To protect her at all costs.
“Not to be contrary, but Ryanne’s a new witch who hasn’t had training. I cannot see her taking on an experienced warlock and winning, Exalted One.” He was careful to keep his tone neutral. Any inflection could be taken as antagonistic and might result in further hostilities.
“My sister has likened dear Ryanne to a nuclear bomb,” Isis provided helpfully.
Knox went cold inside. Once again, his eyes darted to meet Ryanne’s. He’d always been a decent judge of character, but he truly didn’t know on which side she stood in all this mess.
“Is that right?” he asked casually, as if they were idly discussing the weather. “Interesting. I suppose she’s the one who has frozen my friends?”
“Not me,” she croaked. “Nope. I was totally going for the scorpion’s removal when all this…” She rolled her eyes around. “… all this stopped.”
He narrowed his eyes on the hand she had extended toward the necklace. No tremble or movement of any kind. She was as trapped as the others.
“How is it that you can move?” she asked in a low tone, confirming his suspicions.
“I’m special that way.”
She glanced down at Nash, and Knox noted the tears building on the rims of her bottom lids. He hadn’t meant to make her cry with his cutting comeback, but if she truly was Serqet’s weapon of choice, he wasn’t giving her any information to destroy him.
He studied the damned necklace Serqet had used to try to kill Spring during her first incarnation. It seemed he was to be forever plagued with that crazy-ass goddess and her attempts on their lives. Serqet would never stop. Not in this lifetime, or any other.
That knowledge put him in a bad situation. Isis had granted Knox the power of the gods on the off chance he would need it to fight her sister. He half suspected she’d only provided said powers because she knew he’d probably never use them against either of them. The threat of his retaliation should’ve been enough for Serqet. It seemed it wasn’t.
Quentin was something like the thousand-times-over great-grandson of Zeus. That made him the only other formidable opponent Serqet might encounter. Unfortunately, while the guy possessed god-like powers, he was also human to a large degree, so whatever she’d knocked him out with was going to make him wake up fighting mad.
“Okay, how about this. You don’t set off your human bomb, and I don’t blast you into obscurity?” he suggested as a kind of truce.
Isis’s dark brows flew skyward, and her mouth dropped open into a perfectly round oh. It could be that she’d never expected him to threaten a goddess, regardless of the magic contained within him. Her dark head swung in Serqet’s direction, although she remained silent.
“You dare threaten me?” Serqet seethed.
Thunder rumbled overhead.
Christ, this was about to get ugly.
He moved forward, careful to keep himself as a shield between her and Spring. “It wouldn’t have to come to a threat if you left my family alone. We just want to be able to live in peace. No Zhu Lin, no Victor Salinger, no Richard Knox or Marianne Carly
le, and no snipers waiting to take my wife out.” He sighed heavily as he studied her set face. She was stunningly beautiful. Maybe more than Isis. He could see why they had been lovers in his previous life. Why he would have been attracted to her before he met Spring. “Don’t do this, Serqet. For whatever we shared, don’t make it ugly any longer. Know when to quit.”
She gasped, and her rage kicked up a notch. “I never quit.”
Okay, wrong thing for him to say. Obviously, she would take it as a challenge. He’d gone soft in the last few months he’d spent with Spring. He should’ve known Serqet would continue to send additional threats his way. With the hand tucked behind his back, Knox pulled more electrical energy from the air, gearing up for a lightning strike.
A blinding white light appeared in the space next to Isis. It was gone in an instant, and in its place stood a woman, similar in appearance to the two sisters, but thinner and standing about six inches taller. This woman he knew from dreams. This goddess was his ancestor, Nephthys.
He ducked his head. “Exalted One.”
“Beloved One.” She stepped around the altar and approached him from behind. With a gentle touch to his wrist, she dissolved his energy ball. “No need for that right now. Save your fight for another day, child.”
She trailed a finger along his rigid jawline and smiled. “Are you sure you don’t wish to become my consort?”
His eyes sought Isis. What was this? Had this been an option at some point? Why did all the goddesses want him as their consort when he was clearly in love with Spring?
“I…” Yeah, what could he say without offending the one goddess who might sway the outcome of this little skirmish? “I’m honored you should ask, but I’m in love with Spring.”
“Yes, so my sister tells me,” Nephthys said on a sigh. “Pity. You’d make my subjects stand up and take notice. I suspect you’d make the years ahead interesting for one and all.”
“I’m boring. Truly,” he demurred. “All I do is work with horses day in and day out. Certainly not worthy enough to grace your presence.”