Brenda chuckled musically.
Rowan stopped her just outside of an immense ornate doorway that entered the clear domed section of the vessel—a dome that was more than thirty miles long and close to twenty miles across. Through the doorway a small, snow-capped mountain range was visible in the distance with low lazy clouds hovering around them.
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“Away. But not far, for now.”
“Will you be okay?”
“It’s a warship, Rowan. The best we have.”
He nodded. “What about Rion and his lot?”
“I hope they succeed. But if they don’t—”
“Sure.”
“You should come with us,” she offered.
“Nah. Not my style. Besides. You don’t want genes from the likes of me spoiling the soup.”
“Still searching for the ancients, are we?”
“Yea. It’s my folly now.”
“I hope you find them, Rowan. Really, I do.”
He smiled handsomely at her. “Look me up when you’re back in town.”
“You know I will.” Brenda gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. “A little something to remember me by.”
“You know you’re gonna have to give me another one of those. I still have two more of your cargo. After that last peck maybe I’ll just have to bring them up one at a time.” He grinned.
“I’ll be waiting.” She smiled beautifully.
19
R owan already didn’t like the smell that was in the air as he neared the building. The elevator even smelled like smoke. He really didn’t like the looks of this floor’s foyer with its charred walls, soggy carpet and bright yellow ‘DO NOT CROSS’ police tape stuck across the doorway of the unit he was heading for.
“Christ,” the old trapper cursed as he made his way past the half-hanging charred door and stood in the middle of the main space now, his keen eyes moving across the details of the burned out unit that Ty and Ethan called home.
Whoever had been here earlier had efficiently picked the place clean of any real evidence of what had caused the fire. But the lack of loose evidence didn’t stop the ancient huntsman from reading the remaining subtle and telltale signs and piecing together what had happened.
“Got yourself into a good old fashioned firefight again, ay, Ty?” he mused under his breath. He looked at the blast marks, his fingers moving over the several days growth of his scruff. “They just came in with guns blazing did they?”
Rowan looked around, his keen eyes taking in the slightest of details. “Looks like you two were prepared alright.” He continued to move around the apartment.
They’d obviously put up one helluva fight. At least they’d gotten away.
“Two, five, six, eight, ten. Hmmm. Two against just ten. Your boys were a little out numbered, Rigel—even for an elite squad.” Rowan mused, his brow suddenly furrowing. “What the hell are you up to?”
Rowan shook his head in disgust. “Well now. I guess that was a bit luck to save you purple-eye’d bastards for last,” he fumed to himself.
The two of them had been attacked. But it wasn’t their fault. There was a lot more at stake here now.
There was only one reason the apartment had been hit with this kind of squad. They weren’t expecting two gods—only one halfblood. Himself. Rowan pursed his lips, anger rising in his soul, the ring on his hand shimmering a deep amber red.
“You had to go and do it, didn’t ya, Rigel?” he said to no one in particular. “No, you had to go and follow me, ay? Couldn’t leave bloody well enough alone, could ya?” Rowan fumed. “Well, now you done it. You done finally pissed me off.”
20
H ey?” Paige sat down on a wooden stool at the bar in the downtown pub.
“What?” Rowan glared at the back wall with its shelves of bottles, not looking at her.
“I followed you from Ethan’s apartment. What’s left of it.”
“I saw ya.”
“You must be Rowan.”
“Yea, well knowin’ that name usually gets people like you killed, missy. Ethan tell you that about me?”
“Must have slipped his mind.”
She got Rowan to chuckle a smile. “What do you want?”
“I didn’t believe him. I mean—I didn’t think you people really existed.”
“We don’t. It’s all fairytales and unicorns. Get lost.”
“Ethan’s my friend.”
“Forget about him. Find someone else.”
“Ethan talked about getting out, into the real world. Where all of you are.”
Rowan said nothing.
“I want out.”
“Door’s over there.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t pickup hitchhikers.”
“Nobody knows Ethan better than I do. We went through school together. I could help you find them.”
“It doesn’t matter what you know or don’t know. The Seven might already have them. Poof. Gone. Like you should be about now.”
“Are you always such a pain in the ass?”
Rowan turned his head and looked her over. She wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, not at all. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders and the stretch denim she wore didn’t hide the curvy figure beneath them. “You’re a bit of a spunk. You and Ethan doing the naughty, were ya? Before Ty showed up?”
“Hardly. We do lunch, not each other.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“You want out. Why?” he asked not looking at her.
“Let’s just say my voter registration card expired yesterday; along with two-hundred million other peoples’.”
“Sucks to be human, doesn’t it?”
“No, it sucks not being able to do anything about it.”
Rowan slipped off his stool picking up his hat. “Run home to your oldies, missy.”
“It’s not missy. It’s Paige.” She followed him.
“Whatever.” He exited the door letting it swing back into her face. She caught the door and caught up beside him.
“You don’t listen very well,” he frowned.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You don’t know—who the hell you’re dealing with, that’s for bloody damn sure.”
“Oh, yea?” She took him by the arm stopping him on the sidewalk. “I can see right through you, Mr. Tough Guy. You’re not half as bad as you smell.”
“Really?” Rowan sniffed his clothes under his arm.
She pushed him. “No, doofus, I just made that up. You don’t smell. But I do want out.”
“Don’t we all.” Rowan started quickly down the sidewalk. He moved a little too fast for anyone she’d ever seen. He turned into an alley ahead of her. Paige ran to catch up but when she turned the corner, he wasn’t there. It was like he was just—gone.
Rowan stood on the other side of the portal watching her looking around. She looked confused, but there was curiosity and cunning in her eyes. “What are you going to do, sweetheart?” he mumbled under his breath. He watched her lean against the side of the building, a frustrated look moving across her face.
Paige looked down the alley. It was a dead end. There wasn’t even any place to hide behind. She looked down at the cracked pavement. Two wet boot prints led out of a small wetted area from a dribbling drain spout. But the boot prints just suddenly ended, one with only half a boot print.
Huh?
Paige bolted where the boot prints led.
Rowan caught her as she plowed right into him.
“Oh! Jesus.” She alarmed, feeling his arms around her.
“Not bad.” She watched Rowan nodding, still held in his arms. “You’re not half bad,” He repeated.
“I, ah,” she stammered. God he smelled nice. Was that cologne, or—”
He let go of her and walked away leaving her standing. She turned around looking at a kind of doorway, the portal that led to the alley where she’d
just been. She walked back to the portal’s opening and then stuck her head out finding herself looking at the alley again instead of the room she was in. She then pulled herself back in just as the doorway shimmered out of existence.
She now looked around the massive concave, dome-like room she found herself within. It was nothing like anything she’d ever seen before. It seemed to be a mish-mash of something artistically ancient and ornate but then redecorated in dusty outback Australian. It totally didn’t work for her.
What really caught her attention was the massive wall of windows that showed a sandy underwater aquarium. A few odd looking fish moved in and out of the light next to the glass.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“A little place I keep, for when I need to just get away. It’s my personal hideout. It’s not quite at the bottom of the Marianas, but close enough. Used to be a mining outpost a while back.”
Rowan had already sat down in an old wooden reclining office chair that creaked wickedly as he kicked his boots up onto his matching old mahogany desk. Both the desk and the chair had seen better days.
“Your decorator’s, ah—” Paige tapped her knuckle on a shiny clean gasoline pump from the Australian 1920’s. “a bit eclectic. You like to restore old things?”
“I bought that new.”
Paige raised her brow, moving past the gas pump. “How old are you, exactly?” She leaned against a twenty-foot tall and badly weathered totem pole.
“A century older than Jesus. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Perfect.” Rowan reached back behind himself and from a hanging mess of different things tangled into an old green fishing net he slipped a large buoy knife from its sheath. The glistening blade twirled in his fingers and was suddenly airborne. It buried itself a couple of inches into the wooden eye of the totem face right next to her.
There wasn’t time to flinch. She just looked at the blade only inches from her head. “You missed.”
“Hardly. Take it up.”
With quite a bit of effort Paige wriggled and pulled the blade from the wood.
“Now give me a nice deep cut right across your palm.”
“What for?”
“You want to be awakened, don’t ya?”
“A hypo a little too upscale for the outback?”
“Don’t have any.”
“Maybe I’d prefer to be fucked instead.” She looked at the sharp blade and then back at the tall, tanned, broad-shouldered handsome Aussie.
“Oh you are defiantly root material, Paige, no doubt about that; trust me. But that ain’t gonna happen. Not with me.”
“You don’t like girls?”
“Not that at all. Just old-fashioned.”
“You know it’s the 21st century, right? A quick tryst—”
“I didn’t bring you here to be my mistress, Paige. You want to be awakened or not?”
Paige walked up to him and let the razor sharp blade sink into her skin. It hurt and began bleeding profusely. Like a flash Rowan was out of his chair, the blade now in his own hand. He sliced his palm deeply and then took hold of her hand quickly.
Paige’s palm was suddenly tingling. The pain vanished almost immediately. Something warm and oddly euphoric was moving up her arm. The sensuous sensation bolted into her chest; a deep warmth that very quickly began moving all thorough her. Her knees buckled as a sudden weakness overtook her; but Rowan easily caught her. He lifted her off her feet and walked her to a wide hanging hammock in the room.
Paige could feel her body on fire with emotion and a building ecstatic feeling.
Rowan watched her carefully; watched the deep euphoria that had taken over her body. Paige took a deeply rippling breath, her back arching weakly as a massive ecstatic feeling rocketed from her womb to her extremities curling her fingers and toes, causing her to writhe and half scream in ecstasy.
“Yea, it’s always fun to watch when that one hits,” he mumbled to himself with a grin. He watched her eyes changing colors. They soon settled into a deep golden color.
“Oh, yea. There we are. That’s the perfect shade. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya, Spunk?”
Finally Rowan watched her sink into the sleep.
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I’ll see you in about two weeks if not sooner. Don’t go anywhere,” he smiled. Rowan picked up a knapsack from a coat tree. “Bout bloody time I found a sheila with some balls.”
He took a step and disappeared into nothing.
21
then another beast more fearsome
than any before it descended out of the darkness
all the kingdoms of the Earth trembled in fear
and all of them bowed in homage before it
—The Books of God
T hirteen sat encircled around the great chamber. The last of the old gods spoke quietly to one another awaiting their messenger.
Rigel entered the great chamber and strode elegantly, confidently into the center of the grand room’s open round table. He bowed deliberately to all of them. Hades spoke first.
“Your request for an audience was urgent, my friend. What news do you bring us?”
“It is not good news, I am afraid,” his seasoned British accent was always thick and refined.
“The Wraith continue to grow stronger, no doubt,” Athena assured.
“Indeed they do; but—”
“The explosives we used against the secessionists have strengthened our grip on the Americas.”
“Indeed, how—ever,” Rigel broke into their banter forcefully. “Neither the Humans nor the Wraith are our greatest concern at the moment.”
“What could be more pressing than the Wraith?” The face of Solis drew troubled.
“The dark lord has emerged. He is on the move.”
Murmuring broke out between the enthroned gods seated around the stone table.
“What are his intentions?” Hera asked.
“Revenge.”
Rigel’s answer echoed throughout the chamber sending silence and a chill over the skin of the assembled.
All looked at one another.
“Then the Endymion waypoint has already completed its cycle, ahead of schedule,” Athena spoke, alarmed. “The prophecy will execute. And we are to late to stop it.”
“But HOW?” Anger rose in Solis’ voice.
“Only the Fates would have such power.” Hermes glared.
“Indeed,” Rigel agreed, a deep frown crossing his face.
“They have betrayed us!” Solis glared at Rigel.
Athena stood. “Be still, Solis. The Fates owe allegiance to no one.”
Solis held his tongue, fuming. She was right.
“Is there nothing that can be done?” Hades asked, his solemn look meeting the eyes and faces of the others.
“No. I am afraid,” Rigel assured. “With the emergence of the dark lord, the Second Kingdom,” Rigel paused, pursuing his lips, “they must already be moving among us, unseen.”
“How!?” Hermes now stood. “We would know. This is impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Athena corrected.
Hades now stood. “The Wraith will need to be dealt with, but the dark lord,” Hades shook his head, “his presence presets a strong impediment to our designs. We are not ready.”
“Perhaps,” Arcus now left his seat to walk in thought. All eyes were on him and his wisdom. “If the dark lord could be—influenced. Allied. To our side, once again?”
“Dangerous.” Athena warned.
“Rigel—” Hades began, “the Fates are obviously involved.”
Rigel agreed. “They will be,” Rigel paused, drawing an uncertain breath, “difficult, to deal with now.”
“No matter.” Arcus added. “We can overcome even them. We hold this world in our grasp.”
“Still,” Rigel hesitated. “Arcus, what you are suggesting may be even too difficult for all of us.”
“Perhaps not,” Arcus continued. “The
dark lord is not without his weaknesses.”
“I agree,” Hera moved to where Hades stood.
“And what of the Sentinels. Surely they must know by now?”
“It appears they do not, at the moment,” Rigel informed.
“Then Rion is a fool.” Athena moved into the center of the circular table. “The power of the ancients at his beck and call and still he is as blind as he is stupid.”
“Apparently, he does not realize the legacy to which he belongs.” Hades entered the circle with Hera and Solis behind him.
“We will not long stand against the Second Kingdom.” Rigel assured.
All of them nodded.
“Surely the Fates themselves are aware—” Solis wasn’t liking the direction this audience was heading.
“They are aware, my friends,” Arcus entered the circle now. “The prophecies are clear. They will draw the dark lord into their designs to unite the three Kingdoms. It has already begun.”
“To what end?” Hera asked.
“Unknown. The Sentinel Masters hid the last tome of the Books of Ra.”
“Within the Tomb of the Ancients, no doubt.”
All of them nodded in their agreement.
“Then we must reopen the tomb.”
“How?”
“I will find us a way.” Arcus said flatly. “Even if I have to use the Fates themselves to do it.”
22
I thought the gods were supposed to be vegan?” Ethan poked at the small fire that had several skillfully filleted trout slowly baking in a twig mesh over the top of it.
“We are, when we can be,” Ty lamented. “But we need to eat.”
“I’m not complaining.” Ethan looked out over some nameless lake the two had found deep in the forests of Georgia. The sun had long since set, giving way to a bright starry night as temperatures dropped into the low forties.
“I can’t believe I’m not freezing. This cold air feels really nice.” Ethan removed the unbuttoned Henley he was wearing so he could feel the cool forest air against his bare skin just as Ty had done earlier.
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