“Jackson, take a gun and a sword. Protect the women.” Roman ordered.
The teen paused, no doubt weighing the chances of him taking a stroll on the back lawn with the men. In the end, he obeyed, grabbing both items from one of the duffels and left.
Avery eyed the bags and didn’t reach for the weapons. He hadn’t held a gun in months. With his new powers, he was the weapon.
Quin strapped on his favorite knives and throwing stars until steel covered him from shoulders to hips. He added his katanas and a gun in the small of his back. Brayden preferred HKs. He stuffed his pockets with extra clips, slung an HK419 assault rifle across his back, and yanked a short sword from the bottom of the bag.
“Roman Nicolis! You visited my house with ultimatums, now I visit yours,” Declan bellowed from the basketball court.
Roman stretched out his hand. “Give me an assault rifle.” Brayden handed one over.
Reign gave him a quizzical glare. Their choice of weaponry ran strictly toward pointy and sharp. “What are your intentions, Brother?”
Roman checked the clip and slammed it home. “I intend to get this reunion started.” He pointed at Thane, Brayden, and Quin. “You three head to different entrance points. Wait a full minute for the rest of us to get shit stirring. Then join the party.” He paused. “Wound only, unless there’s no other way.”
Reign stopped Roman with a hand pressed to the center of Roman’s chest. The edge of his black blade glowed crimson and pulsed. “Since when do we leave our enemies alive?” Reign gritted.
“Demi-gods fighting demi-gods, a war that could last a thousand years, I don’t want that for the next generation.” Roman’s gaze settled on Avery, then swung to each man. “I don’t want our future children fighting a battle we started. Understand?”
Hell yeah, Avery thought. Everyone nodded while Reign gave a terse, “Yes.”
“But if shit goes bad…” Quin held up a detonator. The entire backyard was wired to a gas line buried beneath the tennis court and several camouflaged propane storage tanks.
“Only if shit goes bad.” Grim-faced, Roman hefted the gun onto his shoulder. “Time to let them know they’ve crossed the line in the sand, boys.” He strode into the hallway, moving with purpose. Avery was the last in line. Thane went left toward the garage while the conga line continued. Brayden broke off midway, striding toward the patio entrance in the great room. Quin chose the entrance by the pool. Avery followed Roman and Reign down the length of the house to the exit in the game room.
Roman opened the door and stepped out, firing in the air. Those who didn’t dive for cover were targeted on the second go-round. Avery understood the logic. Immortals didn’t fear bullets, but that didn’t mean a little lead piercing wouldn’t slow them down. Reign flashed with Alexis. Seconds later, screams echoed in the night.
Avery stepped through the door. His Ink slithered across his flesh and seeped out of his pores to form a protective exoskeleton. He welcomed the change.
Return fire pinged against his shield.
Wound only.
Yeah.
Right.
Following that particular order might be a problem with the chaos seething in his soul. It took considerable effort to rein in his other self and will his claws to retract. Only then did he charge the oncoming men. He barreled through them, using his fists. A few raised their palms and blasted energy his way. Their power bounced off his exoskeleton to be redirected back into the mob like grenades.
Gunfire erupted, coming from the house. Quin, Thane, and Brayden had made their entry into the fray. Avery shed the exoskeleton and reformed as mist, he took to the skies for an overview of the property. A group of men stalked toward Thane. He fired at them. They kept coming. Immortals. Avery headed for ground level and transformed again. This time he didn’t sheathe his exoskeleton. He aimed for the back of their necks. A severed spine wouldn’t keep an immortal down forever, though hopefully just long enough.
“I had them,” Thane yelled.
A shot rang out, and Brayden jerked to the right. He fell and rolled to his feet in a fluid dance, which had him gaining his footing and gutting his nearest opponent. But he was surrounded, and the enemy kept coming. He emptied his guns then pulled his daggers. Blood spilled with each swipe. An impressive sight, until he couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of bodies coming at him. Avery kept his mist form and dropped to the deck. He encompassed the men and poured chaos into their minds. All of them collapsed in a mindless heap.
He solidified and said, “You okay?”
Blood soaked the sleeve of Brayden’s shirt. He touched the area below his shoulder and rolled the joint. “I’ll be fine. Go.” The intensity bleeding off him gave Avery no doubt. Wait, what’s up with his eyes? Were they opaque?
“I said go!” Brayden shouted and charged over to Quin who was engaged in his own deadly dance.
Avery took to the sky again, spotted Declan Mairos and another man at the edge of the basketball court, and drew on the chaos inherent in all things, pulled it from the earth and air. Thick strands of the destructive force leeched from nature and rose to merge with him. His mist expanded, absorbing all until he was engorged from the surfeit. Pain spiked his senses. This much chaos trapped in one place wasn’t sustainable. He couldn’t hold it much longer.
A competing mist slammed into him, surrounded, and swallowed him. Their atoms mixed as they twisted together, changing him, nullifying his chaos, and turning him human. In mid-air, Avery plummeted to the ground.
Chapter Forty-Two
Emeline, Stella, Ember, Jackson, and Hector made it to the panic room secreted behind a panel in the second-floor hallway. The well-appointed room had everything a person needed for an extended stay, including a separate generator, and monitors showing the interior and exterior of the mansion. One pan of each camera and Emeline spotted all of the men engaged in combat with multiple opponents. She hadn’t spotted Avery.
She searched again and couldn’t find him.
“I can’t stay here, Stella. I have to go.”
“You can’t. Something could happen.” Stella’s voice dropped low and her gaze dipped to Emeline’s abdomen.
“Something may have already happened. I can’t sit here not knowing. I have to go.” She went to the weapons cabinet. She’d jerked on a shoulder holster and checked the magazines on two FN Five-seveNs. She picked this gun for maximum damage due to the rifle ammo it used.
Emeline stopped. Her free hand spanned her lower abdomen and she swallowed down the sudden lump clogging her throat. If she left the safety of the room and purposely put herself and the baby in danger, it would only serve to distract Avery. Possibly kill him.
She hated being locked away here; it went against her combative nature, but she had more to lose than just her life. Avery and the baby came first. No matter how much she wanted to kick some ass, she couldn’t jeopardize either.
Emeline kept the gun and plopped into the nearest chair to sulk. She couldn’t handle watching the monitors, seeing Avery and the family he loved fighting. Worrying over every cut, bruise, flinch, hell, if she was this bad now over a grown man who was more than capable of taking care of himself, God help her child. She may as well put her kid in a padded suit for the rest of his or her life.
The keypad beeped. Someone was entering the code to get into the room.
“Is it over already?” Hector said.
“All right. We kicked ass!” Jackson hooted. Stella went to the monitors. Emeline went to the door, hoping it was Avery. Jackson rushed next to her.
Emeline counted six beeps when they entered the safe room. She couldn’t help the bubble of excitement as the count of beeps passed three, then four.
“The camera outside the door must be damaged,” Hector said.
Beep five.
“Or something is blocking it. Get back!” Stella raced to the weapons.
Beep six.
The door slowly slid open—and Alamut stepped inside.
The battle ended as quickly as it started. One moment Avery was engaged in combat with a foe that had similar abilities, the next, Declan Mairos was dead. Roman stood over the body, his sword buried center mass in Declan’s chest. Frederick Tanis fled into the first vortex that opened; his followers joined him. They left fifteen wounded and five dead.
Avery touched down beside Roman after taking an aerial scan of the surroundings. “We’re good. No further enemies skulking about, waiting to attack. I don’t know what I fought earlier, but it won’t surprise me again.”
Roman grunted.
“Got a live one.” Alexis shouted. She pressed a finger to the throat of an enemy and waited for Reign who had just healed a slash to Quin’s abdomen. Thane was tossing the bodies into a vortex leading to Declan’s headquarters in Atlanta. Brayden was off to the side, untouched and silent. He stared at his hands, curled, and extended his fingers as if the appendages were alien beings.
Roman’s focus hadn’t strayed from Declan. Avery didn’t need to ask his thoughts. They had just won the first battle in the war that had landed in their laps. “We’ve got to get this place cleaned up. I don’t want the women to see the bodies.”
“I guess I’m androgynous.” Alexis snorted and moved to the next body.
A panicked shout had Avery’s Ink forming his shield. Everyone else gripped their weapon and turned to face the new threat. However, the shout hadn’t come from the woods; it came from the house.
A bloody Jackson ran toward Roman, carrying an equally bloody Ember. Alexis reached them first and took the glassy-eyed child from Jackson’s arms. He collapsed to his knees the moment he released the child to her care.
“He took them. I tried to stop him, but he t-took them.” Jackson grimaced between ragged pants.
Avery took off toward the house, his emotions too unstable to transform. He rushed into the house, up the stairs, and into the safe room—and halted, momentarily paralyzed.
Hector lay in a corner. Tie askew, blood spoiling the pristine white of his linen shirt and grey silk suit, a sword in one hand, a gun in the other, his eyes open—sightless.
Footsteps rushed down the hallway and stopped after entering the room. Roman moved past Avery and crouched beside their butler.
No. Hector was much more than their servant. He was their co-conspirator, their confidante, their father, their friend. Never just a butler.
Roman picked Hector up from the floor and carried him to a nearby sofa. His face was a blank mask that didn’t hide his emotions. He’d known Hector since Hector’s birth, enjoyed a father-son then a son-father relationship. Sixty-five years.
The loss couldn’t be quantified.
“Where is Emeline?” said Avery, his gaze darting around the room.
“And Stella?” choked Roman.
All eyes turned to Jackson.
The house phone on the desk rang. Few had that number and most were in the room. Roman walked over to the desk and hit the speaker button. The first sounds were a muffled struggle then the sound of flesh hitting flesh.
“I have two somethingsss you want?” Alamut breathed heavily on the other end. “And EJ hasss sssomething I want. Tell him to bring me my Harvessster at the midnight in Timesss Sssquare, and I won’t kill your lovely women. He’sss to come alone. I sssee anyone elssse, they die.”
“Hector is dead,” Roman said.
A heavy beat of silent echoed from the phone. Then, “You take from me. I take from you. He ssshould’ve ssstayed out of my way. Don’t want any more collateral damage?” A moan filtered through the phone. “Then give me the Harvessster.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Is that where they live now?” Ridley asked, even as EJ pointed to the two-story brick colonial in an affluent suburb outside of Detroit. Christmas lights draped each window and blinking icicles hung from the gutters.
“Yeah,” he said quietly in a tone devoid of emotion.
She glanced at him and looked away from the sorrow leeching out of his eyes. Anger churned in her gut along with a healthy dose of bitterness. Sorrow wasn’t what she wanted from him…but was all she could have. In a flash, both emotions vanished, replaced by regret.
It was a little late in the game to fall in love. Not like she had a choice after meeting EJ. He made it impossible to hate him. Made it impossible to ignore the indelible mark he left on her heart. Good thing she wouldn’t have to suffer for long.
Tick-tick-tick-tick.
She refused to look at her watch. Refused. Instead, she crossed the street to the house ablaze in light. Music and laughter filtered from inside. After all, it was New Year’s Eve. Only—Ridley gave in and glanced at her watch—seventy minutes left in the old year.
Seven. Zero. Minutes. To her life.
Her throat tightened.
Her eyes burned.
Hold it together. She gave herself a mental pep talk. Just a little while longer and then I can find a place to cry and die.
She moved to the large living room window. Not caring who noticed the stranger standing in the patch of snow collected under the lone naked tree on the lawn, she studied the milling partygoers decked out in their New Year’s finery.
Seemed Marilyn was popular. She had plenty of friends to celebrate the coming year and Ridley’s death. A small body with a white ponytail darted by the window. Ridley gripped the tree as she tracked the ponytail. Josie played a game of tag with another child, and the child was losing. Josie was just too fast.
A grin split Ridley’s face, even as tears coasted down her cheeks. Josie slowed and let the child tag her. The child’s shout of joy reached Ridley, but not Josie’s muffled response. The child squealed and took off, leaving Josie to stuff a handful of Chex Mix into her mouth. Was she giving her friend a head start?
Marilyn entered the room and waved a finger at Josie and pointed at her watch. Josie’s head drooped and she stomped out of view.
“No! Come back!” Ridley stepped away from the tree into the light cascading from the window, desperate to catch another glimpse of her daughter. She did just manage to see her and her friend climbing the staircase in the foyer. They were whispering, giggling, conspiring to get into trouble.
Another second and she would be out of view and gone forever. Ridley wanted that last second. She strained to grasp that second and make the memory last until midnight.
Someone blocked her view. She rushed to the window and tried to look around the person, but wherever she moved, the person moved with her. Finally, Ridley looked up.
Marilyn blocked the window. Their gazes locked. So many curses, condemnations, pleas, and demands flashed through their connection. In the end, none left Ridley’s mouth. The fight was over, and she had lost on every account, except the one account that mattered. Josie was safe and loved. Not with the woman who bore her, but with the one who would raise her. All Ridley could say was, “Please.”
A wealth of emotion passed over Marilyn’s face as Ridley waited for an answer. Finally, Marilyn dashed away a tear and nodded. She pointed to the left and then went that way.
Ridley’s heart stopped then kick-started with a jolt of adrenalin. This moment couldn’t be happening, but here it was, and she couldn’t get her feet to move. Somehow, she managed a sedate walk to the front door.
EJ’s cell phone rang. He ignored it, and it rang again.
The front door opened as he answered his cell, but Ridley only had eyes for Marilyn. “Hi.”
Marilyn nodded and bit the corner of her lip before saying, “Hi.” Then, “I didn’t leave to hurt you. I was just afraid,” burst from her and she took Ridley into her arms. The two wrapped around each other and held on.
“Say that again,” EJ said behind her. His voice was a rough growl with a razor edge that made her hackles rise. Someone was going to die. Who…the only unknown.
“Do you want to meet her?” Marilyn asked when they parted.
Ridle
y nodded, but she glanced at EJ and saw the last thing she expected—Fear.
“Alamut has Emeline and Stella.” Avery’s voice crackled with energy that reached through the speaker of EJ’s cell phone and touched her. “He wants you and the Harvester in exchange. She’s pregnant, EJ. Eme’s pregnant, and he has her.”
EJ looked at her. The question in his eyes, he didn’t have to ask. Ridley closed her eyes and stretched her senses. From a distance, she heard Avery yell something through the phone and EJ’s response, “Hold on a second.” A minute passed as she searched then another.
EJ said something low and heated into the phone. The tension in his voice distracted her, but then she caught a faint tendril of the thread she sought and reeled it in. Then the thread was gone again.
Wait—it was back. Vortex jumping was the only explanation she could come up with. All of the threads were in upstate New York. She needed to go there to get a better lock.
But that meant... She turned back to Marilyn.
“Who’s Emeline?” Marilyn asked.
“EJ’s sister-in-law.” Ridley’s watch beeped. She had one hour left. “And a sister of the Order.”
“Mommy?” A small voice called from inside the house.
“Just a sec, Josie,” Marilyn yelled
So close. All she had to do was step in the house, close the door behind her, and doom Emeline and her unborn child.
“When she gets old enough, tell her about me. Tell her I loved her more than anything in the world, and I wanted to spend my last hour with her, but…but I needed to help save someone and her baby. I hope she understands. And forgives me.”
“She will. I’ll make her.” Marilyn hugged her again. “Go, save our sister.” She stepped back into the house and closed the door.
Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Page 30