He studied the women. Avery had yet to figure it out when the answer was so simple. EJ looked at Ridley, willed her to trust him, to follow where she didn’t want to go.
Face grim, she gave a slight nod then allowed him to lead her into the vortex.
~~~~~~~
Back at the scene of the crime was the last place Ridley wanted to be, but here she was, prepared to be judged and convicted. Not that she didn’t deserve it. Guilty conscience take a bow.
She could leave and no one could catch her except… The calloused palm molded to her hand anchored her to EJ. If he was going to save the women, she had to help, had to be there to witness. If they let her.
Ridley had stepped through the portal braced for an attack and found a crowd of silent women gathered in the conference room of the Order.
“What the—” Avery stomped over to them with Mrs. Kelly following.
“Shut up and listen,” EJ said to Avery and then glared at Roman, who’d exited the vortex and stood a hair too close to EJ for Ridley’s comfort.
Ink slithered down Avery’s bare arms, pulsed, and settled. Ridley eyed the exit. She could have both of them out of here in seconds.
“We’re not here to start any shit. We’re here to help,” EJ said.
“How can she help when she’s caused this,” Mrs. Kelly shouted, her face florid.
“There is no time for this. The women need to be relocated and the house sanitized by morning when the police arrive,” Roman glowered at them and turned to Mrs. Kelly. “We should—”
“How about you let someone who knows something about being a zombie, help?” EJ stepped between Roman and the elder.
“Oh, yeah. Forgot that you’re an authority on being someone’s bitch. By all means, help.” Avery mirrored EJ’s cocky stance and smirk.
Two steps and they were face-to-face, breathing in each other’s fumes. If things between EJ and Avery went nuclear, Ridley couldn’t stop them. Doubted Roman or Reign could either.
“You are so fucking lucky I have a conscience,” EJ muttered.
“And who gave you that conscience?” Avery pointed at his chest. “That’s who.”
EJ growled low in his throat.
Ink swarmed over Avery’s bald head.
“EJ. Do what you came here for and let’s go.” Ridley urged.
“Oh, that’s right. You came here to save the day.” Avery chuckled. “Now you’re Superman? You got an invisible S on your chest?”
With an arrogant tilt of his head, EJ smirked. “You could say that.”
“That” —air quotes— “‘S’ on your chest, Bro, doesn’t stand for Superman. It stands for sucker.”
EJ gave a single dry laugh. “Wow. Avery made a funny. That silence you hear is me finally able to do something you can’t. Feeling impotent, Bro?” EJ whispered.
Ink covered Avery’s face, a moving Rorschach painting that shifted from a solid block of color, to words, to archaic symbols.
Symbols Ridley had seen before…in the Book of Eidos.
Her head swam.
“All you had to do was give the order, Bro,” EJ taunted.
“What order?” Avery hissed.
“Repeat after me: ‘I grant, relinquish, release, your will so that you can run amok, do whatever the hell you please. Effective right now’.”
Silence.
EJ snapped his fingers in front of Avery’s face. “Why aren’t you repeating what I said?”
“Because it couldn’t possibly be that simple.” Avery knocked EJ’s hand away.
“It is that simple.”
“Because you say so?”
“Because I’m superior,” EJ said with the cockiness Ridley loved.
“A superior ass? Yes. You are.”
“You two, enough!” Ridley shouted. “This is getting us nowhere. Repeat the words and EJ and I will be out of your way.”
“Forever,” EJ added.
“Fine. I grant you your will so you can do whatever you please.” Avery said.
And nothing happened. Women still zombies.
“See told you it wouldn’t work.” Arrogance poured off Avery.
Ridley had enough. “Damn it. You’re a god. The God of Chaos! Put some bass in your voice, or do you need to grow another ball to accomplish that?”
The green in Avery’s eyes melted into black, and a growl reverberated at the back of his throat. Words came from him, deep and laced with power. The walls vibrated, the glass vase on the conference table shattered, furniture shimmied.
On the last syllable, the blank expressions and the rigid stances of the women faded. Several fainted, several screamed, several reached for Ridley’s neck.
“Time to go!” EJ grabbed Ridley and dragged her to the exit.
She fought him. “We can’t leave.”
“We can’t stay.”
“I have to apologize. This may be my only chance.”
Avery, Roman, and some of the women strained to keep the ones out for her blood at bay.
EJ muttered a curse. “All right.”
“And after, we have to talk to your brother.”
His features darkened. “Why?”
Ridley ignored him and focused on the women. “I don’t expect your forgiveness. What I did was horrible. There is no excuse. All I can say is, I am sorry.” But I would do it again if I had to. She swallowed the sudden lump lodged in her throat.
Amidst the outraged cries, Ridley said to Avery, “I need to speak to you.” She took EJ’s hand and zoomed out of the room. They didn’t go far. The ride ended in the bedroom Avery shared with Emeline.
“Text him. Tell him where we are,” she ordered EJ.
EJ whipped her around. “Why do you want Avery?”
Was that jealousy she heard in his voice?
The door flew open. Avery marched inside and slammed it closed. “If you think I’m going to say thank you for helping free the Order—”
“What happened with the Book of Eidos?”
Avery stopped short, his gaze shifted between her and EJ. Scowling, he said, “You stole the Book.”
“It was empty. You emptied it.” She pointed a finger at him.
“How do you know he emptied it?” EJ moved between them and stood with Avery. The irony of his position struck her. Once, he’d chosen her over his family. Would he do so again if it came to it? Which it would.
“Because the words from the book are right there on him.” She pointed at Avery’s arm.
Startled, he glanced down and then at Ridley. “You can read it?”
She shook her head. “I’ve stared at that passage for years, but no, I can’t read it.”
“I think I can.” EJ stepped forward.
Ridley pivoted. “What? Since when?”
EJ shrugged. “Umm. Not sure.”
“You’re lying.” If she couldn’t translate a word given years of trying, how could EJ all of a sudden?
“You never were a good liar,” Avery added.
“EJ…when did this happen?” If he could read the Book all along, then she was the biggest fool.
He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I’m not sure when it happened. Sometime after the fight with Alamut.”
“You fought Alamut?” Avery asked, pride heavy in his voice.
“Can we stick to the topic, please? What do you mean, you think you can?”
“Some of the words make sense.”
Lord, keep me from strangling him. “Which ones?”
“Some on his arm, but then I lose them under his sleeve.”
Simple to solve. “Take off your shirt.”
Avery—“Excuse me?”
EJ—“What?”
Ridley frowned at both men. “I didn’t stutter. Take off your shirt. And if your Ink travels to your lower half then your pants, too.”
Both men froze, stuck on stupid, with equally stupid expressions on their handsome mugs. “Fine. I’ll strip you myself.” Two steps and EJ hauled her back.
“The hell you will,�
�� EJ snarled, towering over her, trying to intimidate her.
Her insides quivered, but not from fear. The heat from his glare made her simmer. “If the book is on his skin, we need it.” She said ‘we’ not ‘me’, which caused her stomach to flop, though not in a completely sickening way.
A muscle ticked in EJ’s jaw. Combined with his lower brow and icy blue eyes, his jealousy beat at her senses in the most delicious way. Made parts of her throb.
“All right.” He sighed and turned his attention to Avery. “You heard the lady, strip.”
A similar muscle ticked in Avery’s jaw. “You need the Book to save your daughter?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. Prepared to beg, Ridley gathered her strength. She had one chance, one chance only to convince Avery.
Better make this good!
Without another word, Avery yanked his shirt over his head and let it fall. Wrought with corded muscles, Ink streaming over the surface, his torso was a study in symmetry and art. Until the burn on his right shoulder caught her attention.
“Start reading,” Avery said to EJ.
“Yes, dear.” He sauntered up to Avery. Being three inches taller than his brother, EJ crouched and was disturbingly close. Not disturbing for Ridley. She had to bite back a snort as Avery stiffened and grimaced. Ink sprinted across his skin.
“I know you’re excited to have me back. Think you can control yourself and calm down so I can read?”
Avery took a few deep breaths. The Ink slowed to a crawl and stopped. EJ circled his brother. His brow scrunched in concentration, his finger tracing an invisible pattern. It was entertaining and excruciating in equal parts.
“So, what do you see?” Avery grunted.
“Fragments. Nothing makes sense.” EJ’s back cracked as he stood to his full height. “Take off your pants.”
And the Ink swarmed. “You’ve lost your fucking mind!”
“Don’t get so personal. I have no interest in seeing your junk.” EJ’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Not like I haven’t seen the little guy before.”
“And so anxious to see it again, are you?”
“I’m drowning in testosterone.” All right. This was getting them nowhere. She whipped out her phone. “Take off your pants, Avery. I’ll take a couple of pictures, EJ and I will go over them later. We’ll be out of your nonexistent hair in seconds.”
“You’re not taking pictures of him.” EJ pointed at Avery.
“I completely agree.” Avery scowled and folded his arms.
Side by side, a united force as they were meant to be. She tossed EJ her phone. “Then you do it.”
EJ fumbled with the phone yet caught it before it hit the floor.
“I am not taking off my pants! Not for you. Certainly, not for her.” Avery’s head swiveled between EJ and Ridley.
“God, why is this like climbing Mount Everest?” Ridley threw up her hands. “No one here is interested in your penis! Just your Ink. So strip so we can get the hell out of here. Otherwise, I’ll knock you out, and we’ll take all kind of pictures. Don’t think Emeline would be too pleased with that.”
Avery opened the first button on his jeans. The zipper whizzed.
“Turn around, Ridley,” EJ ordered.
Yeah, like that was gonna happen. Bow-chicka-wow-wow played in her head, and she had to swallow a grin. “Hurry up so we can go.”
“As soon as you turn around, I will.”
Against her better judgment, Ridley pivoted. She had no interest in Avery, but what heterosexual woman didn’t have an appreciation of the male form? She listened to the rustle of denim, saw the reflected flash of her camera, and stifled a chuckle.
“Raise your arms,” EJ said.
“Suck my—”
“Don’t say it. I’m too close to your dick right now for you to say that.”
Now she did laugh, not only at the antics of EJ and Avery, but this was the last situation she expected. The man she’d kidnapped was now helping her, not for his personal gain but because he cared. How many times had someone cared about her and meant it?
The bedroom door swung open. Ridley spun. Roman and Reign strolled in—and froze. Shock painted their faces. Couldn’t blame them. What else could they do when interrupting a photo session with Avery—his Jockeys pulled down—and EJ snapping pictures of his brother’s bare ass?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I want to know when I can finally put my grandfather to rest, Detective McCabe.” Hands on her hips, head cocked to the side, Emeline demanded an answer. The detective had tracked her down at her home in Harlem to grill her, but he would answer her questions first. He needed her, and she would use every inch of that need to her advantage.
“I will personally call the coroner and find out the exact date for you. First, I need you to answer a few questions.”
Bullshit. Using a magnifying glass to find the bullshit, unnecessary. She wouldn’t call the good detective on the carpet over his deceit. That would be rude. Perched on the edge of her sofa, the detective scanned the room every few seconds. This was not what she needed after a sleepless night filled with tears and regret.
“I’m sorry Detective McCabe, I don’t know anything. I have nothing new to tell you.” Emeline folded her arms under her breasts. An hour of interrogation was enough, plus she felt ill. Her stomach rolled with every movement. Not surprising after everything. Days passed and not a word from Avery. Not a call. Not an email. Not even a text message. Not that she wanted one. She bit her lip. God, she wanted one.
“Miss Gamble, you haven’t answered any of my questions.” McCabe hadn’t budged from his position on her sofa.
“That’s because I don’t have any answers. I didn’t know my grandfather leased a warehouse or what he kept inside, and I damn sure didn’t know what was in the basement. And for the record, I doubt my grandfather knew, either. He leased the main floor of the building, not the basement. That area was supposed to be empty. None of my grandfather’s items were in that area.” She’d done her homework and she wouldn’t let them pin the fire on Grand, especially when it was Alamut’s fault.
“I’ll have my attorney give you a call.” She didn’t have an attorney, but they didn’t need to know that. “Anything else you need to know, ask him.”
McCabe climbed to his feet. “Miss Gamble—”
“When can I bury my grandfather?” She stared down the detective.
“I don’t control the Examiner’s Office. As soon as they release him, they will give you a call. There is something I’d like you to see, however.”
What now? “What would that be?”
“Can you come to the morgue today? Afterward, I’m sure they will be able to give you a release date.” McCabe jingled the change in his pocket.
Liar. “You just told me you don’t control the ME’s office.”
He cleared his throat. “I do have some influence.”
The last thing she wanted was to go to the morgue, but if that would get them to release Grand’s body then she’d damn well suck it up and go. She led the way to the front door as he continued to toss out questions about the pits found in the burned down warehouse and the Nicolis men. The detective and the world weren’t ready for the truth about either of the questions.
“I’ll be there in an hour. See you there, Detective.”
~~~~~~~
Emeline walked into the Medical Examiner’s Office. The click of her boots and her ragged breathing created her personal soundtrack. Cold air rushed inside, but she didn’t feel it. Since leaving RockGate and Avery, her insides had frozen solid.
The formaldehyde and lemony-pine stench of the place made her gag. Her stomach did a flop, and she had to lean against the tiled wall to catch her breath.
Staff passed by without making eye contact. Emotional displays were nothing new, just another distraught family member viewing a loved one. Nothing to get worked up over. A few dry swallows and deep breaths and her rolling stomach called a truce seconds befo
re McCabe rounded a corner.
“Miss Gamble. You’re a bit early.” He lumbered over to her, his coat flapping, spare change jangling. The man could never sneak up on anybody or maybe she’d gotten so used to Avery’s prowling cat-like gait that anything normal seemed wrong.
“Are you complaining, Detective?”
He laughed. “No. Not at all.” He glanced behind her then led her to the reception desk to sign the log in book. “Do you mind waiting here? I want to make sure they’re ready for you.”
Ready for her? They didn’t have a reservation for a lunch date. “Fine.” McCabe walked away. She sighed and inhaled another lungful of that wonderful preserved corpse smell.
Grand. Corpse. Two words she shouldn’t put together, but here she was. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. No matter what. Remember the good times. Not how he ended. Not how I let him die.
She tilted her head up and blinked the tears away.
“We’ll be in viewing room four when my other guest arrives,” McCabe said to the receptionist.
“Other guest?” Who else did he invite?
“Never mind. He’s here.” McCabe gazed down the hallway.
Emeline heard the hard thud of his footsteps, and her heart kick-started into a driving beat as if it had been in neutral all along.
“I’m here, Detective.”
God… Damn! Her stomach clenched while her heart shifted into hyperdrive. His voice was rougher, lower. He sounded angry. Then again, that was his usual state. He stood beside her. The creak of his leather jacket, the hint of aftershave, all conspired to make her raise her eyes and see what she’d missed for the last few days.
“Good, if you’d both would follow me?” McCabe led the way around a corner.
Next to her, Avery walked silently. His stride shortened to accommodate hers. She stumbled over her own two feet, and he steadied her with a hand low on her back.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She pulled away, banged into the wall, and glanced up. He was leaner. His cheeks hollow. His skin stretched tighter over his skull. Seemed food hadn’t been a priority on his list either. His eyes, they were green and a quarter black and seared her as nothing else could.
God…Damn! Looking at him hurt. Loving him hurt. “Why are you here?”
Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Page 21