Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  She took in the carpet, let her toes sink into the plush fibers. Strange how the small, mundane facets of life gave comfort at the most crucial times. She would remember this carpet and the smoothness of the pine railing along her palm and the wood paneling as she made her way to the living room. This was their home, the only home she and her son ever had.

  She paused in the archway, watching the smoke curling from the remains seated in her favorite chair. Hathoria Gregory, the mortal host of Hathor, her tether to this realm, was nothing more than a collection of ashes. The hours it had taken to free herself from the binds Sakhmet used to confine her had been costly.

  She had to get to Nu, the mother of the Gods. The survival of this realm and her son depended on it. Now, her floodgates opened.

  ~~~~~~

  Roman sat at the head of a partially empty table at dinner. Stella sat to his right, her hand on Ember’s, scolding the child to not toss her food under the table for her puppy, Gypsy. Reign sat on his left trying to hold back a chuckle while beside him, Alexis choked on her first taste of venison. The rest of the chairs were empty with Thane and Quin running an errand. Hector flitted in and out of the room, directing the loyal staff through the meal. Gypsy yipped, reminding Roman of his chewed Ferragamos. Avery hadn’t returned to RockGate since the blowout with Emeline yesterday. Even Brayden and Tyrone’s chairs at the other end of the table sat vacant.

  This wasn’t how the family should be, yet he had no idea how to find the missing two or heal the rift between Avery and EJ. There wasn’t a handbook for this kind of drama.

  “Honey, Ember asked you a question.” Stella touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

  He kissed the back of her hand and gave his attention to his pink-cheeked sister-in-law. “Sorry, Ember. What did you say?”

  “You said you would take us to see the Christmas lights in the neighborhood. Are we still going?” She sing-songed louder than Gypsy barking for more scraps.

  Roman smiled. Only here a few weeks and already she knew how to wield her wiles. “Yes. After dinner, we’ll go.”

  “Are you going to come, too, Uncle Reign? Pleeeaaassseee!” Ember batted her eyes and tossed her charm across the table.

  Roman stifled a chuckle at Reign’s momentary loss for words. Ember’s very obvious crush had recently become apparent.

  “He wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alexis answered for him. “I want to see the Christmas lights, too.”

  Stella kissed Ember’s forehead. “Hurry up and finish eating.”

  Awareness pricked Roman’s senses. Danger approached. Coming fast. He leaped to his feet and Reign joined him. His twin must’ve sensed the disturbance. Both had their swords in their hands. Somewhere beneath the table, Gypsy whimpered.

  “You and Ember, out of here!” he ordered Stella. Alexis bound over the table, scattering dishes and silverware. Tirrika, the Serpent necklace, morphed into a suit of gold armor, shielding her entire body. She positioned herself in front of Stella and Ember.

  “What’s wrong?” Stella screamed over Ember’s cries as the child cradled the struggling puppy in her arms.

  A wind kicked up in the closed room. Drapes flapped like flags in a hurricane.

  “Any idea what’s going on?” Roman said to his brother.

  “I was about to voice the same question.” Reign looked back at Alexis.

  Roman focused on the coming threat.

  Overhead, the chandelier swayed, and the lights flickered. Then it went dark. A second later, the lights flared, showing the luminous form of the Goddess Hathor. Dressed in full Egyptian regalia—jeweled headdress and collar, belted linen shift—her dark hair whipped about her face, a maelstrom of strands, while her skin shined like polished copper.

  Reign raised his black blade to attack. Roman grabbed his brother’s wrist and lowered his arm. “Great Goddess Hathor, what’s happened?”

  Her glowing eyes landed on him and slightly dimmed.

  “I’m scared,” Ember cried.

  Hathor’s gaze shifted to Ember. With a swipe of her hand, Hathor flung Roman and Reign to the opposite sides of the room. All entry points into the dining room sealed. Pinned to the wood paneling, Roman had never felt more impotent as Hathor stepped toward the child. Alexis blocked her path. Reign roared. He fought against the invisible bonds holding him in a desperate attempt to be free.

  “Goddess! Stay away from them.” Roman struggled to bring his sword up, but he couldn’t move a single muscle.

  Hathor dropped to her knees and prostrated herself in front of the three women. The wind died, leaving only the sound of Roman and Reign struggling, and pounding echoing from the door leading to the kitchen. “Hector, stay back,” Roman shouted.

  Voice reverent, Hathor chanted in an ancient language Roman had never heard, yet he understood every word. “Great Goddess Nu, I come beseeching your divine help. Sakhmet is free and my son, my T-Tau is banished. With Ra gone, you are needed to save us all.”

  Stella edged to the door with Ember while Alexis stayed in front of them. “What is she saying?”

  Hathor lifted her head. Hair in complete disarray, tears ran freely from her puffy eyes and stained her swollen face. Snot trickled from her nose. This was not the regal goddess Roman had met over the summer. This creature was broken and desperate, which made her dangerous…

  “Great Goddess—Mother! Please help me. He is my only child,” Hathor sobbed in English.

  Roman looked at Reign. No words were necessary to convey the ‘oh shit’ they both felt. The power holding them weakened and, together, they brought their swords up. Reign pointed his dark blade at Roman. Roman pointed his light sword at Reign. Light and dark energy streaked across the room. The powers passed within inches of each other and slammed into each man, ripping through the bonds binding them.

  The men landed on their feet. Together, they closed in on Hathor.

  Alexis stiffened. Her posture changed from defensive to relaxed. “Halt. Do her no harm.”

  “That is not my woman’s voice,” Reign growled at Alexis and approached carefully. “Who are you?”

  The golden armor melted from Alexis’s body and pooled at her feet. She staggered and Reign caught her before she collapsed. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”

  The golden puddle reformed into Tirrika, the personal anu’Ra of Nu. The serpent slithered between their legs over to Ember.

  “Roman?” Stella and Ember continued to back away.

  “It’s all right, Stella. Tirrika actually belongs to Nu.” Alexis glanced at Ember. “She belongs to you, Ember. Nu let me borrow her, so don’t be afraid. She’d never hurt you.”

  “Are you sure?” Stella said as the golden snake moved closer. Ember dropped Gypsy and clutched Stella’s legs.

  Reign moved in front of Alexis, guarding her with his body. “Alexis speaks the truth. The anu’Ra will not harm Ember. If Tirrika seeks Ember, then it is for a reason.”

  “I don’t want it,” Ember cried.

  Tirrika stopped. She coiled on the floor, neck fanned, head weaving, waiting and watching Ember through her dual heads, her ruby and emerald eyes twinkling.

  The scowl didn’t leave Ember’s face even though she stopped trembling as the serpent grew from the size of a cobra to the size of an anaconda. Nobody moved as the fanged mouth opened and said, “Rise Hathor and step forth.”

  Husky timbre, resonant with distinct power, Nu’s voice came out of the serpent. The voice Roman remembered as belonging to his mother.

  Hathor climbed to her feet. Stella stuck to Ember’s side.

  “Tell me what has happened.” The serpent demanded.

  “My son is missing. Lost somewhere in time.”

  “Sakhmet,” Nu snapped, her voice full of reprimand. “How did she escape?”

  Hathor’s bowed head didn’t rise. “Tau released her. I’m certain he didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “Then he is the only one who can return her to her prison.”
>
  Hathor’s head jerked up. “He doesn’t have his power. She does!”

  “Sakhmet has his power because you failed to give him his birthright.”

  Fury contorted Hathor’s face. “She has his power because I chose you over him! I saved you and doomed my child. Now fix it!” Power swirled around her.

  The serpent’s head bobbed. Its jeweled head caught the light from the chandelier and cast fractured rainbows around the room. “There is nothing I can do. My host has bound my powers until her twentieth birthday.”

  Hathor’s gaze narrowed on Ember. “You did what?” She shouted and lunged for the child. “Why? Why did you do that?”

  Roman had Hathor by the throat with the tip of his sword touching her precious flesh. Could his blade, a gift from Osiris, harm even a deity? He was willing to find out. “You don’t touch her—ever. Understand?”

  “S-sorry. I just w-w-wanted the goddess to l-leave me alone.” Ember cried and latched onto Stella. “Please don’t send me back to foster care. P-please.”

  Stella dropped to her knees and hugged the sobbing child to her bosom. “Sweetheart, no one is sending you anywhere. We’re your family. Forever.”

  Reign and Alexis positioned themselves in front of the women while Stella continued to soothe Ember.

  Tirrika slithered around Reign. “Release her, my son. Hathor’s anguish is well placed, but she would never hurt me, as you and Reign would never hurt me.”

  “How can you be certain?” Reign said as Roman lowered his weapon and moved away from Hathor.

  “Though born in the spirit realm by a fusion of my vis’Ra and Ra’s divinity, Hathor is my child as you and Roman are my children,” the serpent spoke.

  “No,” Hathor cried. “These two are so much more precious to you than the children you formed with Ra. I never understood and despised them because of their defective humanity and low birth…then I had Tau, and I finally understood the bond. Your love for them is vast compared to the pittance you bequeath to me, Mother. For that slight, I hold no malice because I comprehend the depth of a mother’s love. No one who has carried and toiled through hard labor to birth a babe and nurture that child would feel any less.” She bowed her head and held out her palms. “For that reason, I implore you to not think less of his birth because he is your descendant through me. I beg you to help me save him.”

  “Know this my daughter: if the power were mine to wield, I would not hesitate,” Nu whispered, her voice full of sadness.

  All of Hathor’s fight evaporated. She stumbled, and Roman caught her before she fell. He held her loosely, not quite ready to believe they were siblings, though before he released her, her body shifted from solid to a translucent, state and she slipped from his grasp. Her form wavered as if a breeze tugged at her. Then he remembered Brayden. “If Tau is missing then where is Brayden? They were in Egypt together.”

  Hathor’s ghostly face turned to Roman. “I found him near death in a hospital in Egypt. He is healed and resting upstairs in his room. Hathoria Gregory is dead. Killed by Sakhmet. Give her the burial she deserves. Without her as an anchor, I return to Chemmis and the punishment awaiting me.”

  Punishment? Why would they punish the Goddess of Love? Better question—who would have enough power to punish the Goddess of Love? “You have my word, Hathor. Hathoria Gregory was a good woman and a friend. We will take care of her remains immediately, but what about Tau?” Roman was desperate to keep the insubstantial form from fading away.

  Hathor gazed at the serpent. “You were my last hope, Mother. Now, my son…is on his own.”

  Hathor faded, leaving a lingering sob and a list of unanswered questions.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The annual Christmas pageant. An institutional ritual at every elementary school in the nation. A must attend event for every parent.

  Dressed in a nondescript brown wig, dark wool coat, plain black pants, and boots, Ridley blended in with the other parents as they filed into the cafeteria. Blending in didn’t stop her from glancing around at every face and checking the doors for the nearest exits.

  Portable lunch tables lined the walls, clearing the space for kiddie chairs in primary colors mixed with regular folding chairs arranged into neat rows. Most chairs were already claimed by eager parents armed with cell phones, ready to document Li’l Suzy’s or Li’l Johnny’s theatrical debut. Ridley was no different. She spied an empty chair three rows from the stage and waged a war within herself. She shouldn’t be here. Marilyn would freak, but Ridley couldn’t stay away. To share in this small part of her daughter’s life, to capture this memory meant so much that she would break the rules this one time.

  Another parent slid into the chair Ridley wanted. Good thing, too, because she spotted Marilyn in the fourth row. She was so close to the stage and hadn’t a worry of anyone after her or a goddess’ time bomb preparing to eradicate her life.

  Anger flooded Ridley, which she quickly squelched.

  Stop being jealous! You chose Marilyn because you knew she would be a good mother. Now be grateful.

  Gratitude never tasted so bitter.

  Ridley plopped herself onto a chair in the last row near the window and pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket. The light dimmed and the room quieted as the curtains rolled back. On the stage, the children lined up into rows. The girls sported green shirts while the boys sported red. Music for “Frosty the Snowman” piped from the out of tune sound system.

  The children started singing, and every parent started recording. A fake Frosty came out— probably one of the fathers—and danced around the stage. Ridley panned the phone over the children, searching for the telltale crown of white blond hair. She found her in the middle of the row, mouth open wide, belting Frosty out as if it was an aria. Josie.

  Ridley laughed even while a tear slid down her cheek. Torn between the recording on her phone or watching the stage, her gaze flickered between both options, desperate to capture each precious expression flashing across her daughter’s face.

  Josie waved, and for a moment, Ridley thought the gesture was aimed at her. Rows ahead, Marilyn popped up and threw Josie a kiss. Josie’s beaming face was a dagger in Ridley’s heart. Would her child ever gaze at her with such adoration?

  The children broke into a rendition of “Rudolph” while a group of horned, red nosed kids pranced onto the stage. “Jingle Bells” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” completed the holiday extravaganza. At the end, each child received a wrapped gift before they joined their family and began their Christmas vacation.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you left?”

  That voice had to come from her imagination. He couldn’t be here.

  Ridley turned slowly, as if time didn’t matter, and faced EJ. His ruggedly handsome face filled her vision, crowded her senses, and sent her heart slamming against her ribs, though not completely in fear. A thread of excitement zinged through her veins. That thread anchored her to the spot and refused to let her escape.

  “What are you—? How are you—?”

  EJ wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. “The crowd is thinning. It’s time to go unless you plan on doing something more than record your daughter’s Christmas show,” he whispered.

  His breath tickled her ear, brushed her cheek, and teased her neck. “I-I—”

  “This isn’t what we agreed to. What the hell are you doing here?” Marilyn interrupted their intimate moment.

  How had she noticed her? Then again, how couldn’t she? Ridley and EJ were the center of attention. Well, not so much her. Inquisitive eyes were on the six foot six giant in the room. Men and especially the women gawked.

  Ridley inhaled a ragged breath and met Marilyn’s glare. “I wanted to see her. That’s all.”

  “Well, you’ve seen her. Now go. I don’t want her to see you.” Marilyn stomped away in time to meet Josie as she dashed down the stage stairs and rushed into a man’s arms. He swung her around, returning Josie to her feet
as Marilyn joined them. All three hugged and then Josie chatted away. Had Marilyn met someone? A man significant enough to bring around Josie?

  Rejoicing should be Ridley’s first instinct. A father and mother for her daughter are what she always wanted for Josie. So why did her heart hitch and slow with dread? She wanted to hear their conversation, observe how they interacted, even though the happiness on her daughter’s animated face and the contentment on Marilyn’s was enough.

  It hurt. I’m her mother.

  “We should leave.”

  Though Ridley didn’t acknowledge, she heard his words. Still pressed to his side, they rumbled through her. A strange comfort, one she needed. She didn’t fight when EJ led her out of the building and into the evening air. She didn’t fight when the gentle pressure of his palm on the small of her back guided her through the playground, away from the departing families, and the lighted parking lot. She should have felt threatened, yet couldn’t summon the effort.

  She stuffed her hand in her coat pocket and leaned against the cold metal slide next to the treehouse playset. “How did you find me?”

  “I played a hunch and have been watching the school since you left RockGate.”

  “You’ve watched the school for a week?”

  He’d let her leave RockGate when he could’ve kept her there until her time ran out. Showed her kindness when he had every reason to hate her. Maybe he changed his mind, regretted his decision and now he was ready to take his revenge. And here she was mooning over him. She tensed, her muscles prepared to kick into overdrive. Time was too short to languish in RockGate prison.

  “Where are you staying since all of your safe houses have been blown?” EJ cocked his head.

  Like she would tell him. “Here and there.” Mainly motels that took cash and didn’t ask questions. She had another safe house under an assumed name, but Quin Nicolis was a formidable internet guru. It was only a matter of time before he discovered that last place.