• • •
Charon stood on the edge of the Isle of the Blessed and Condemned. He felt the pull of Jaiden’s books, felt their power humming in the air. His robes fluttered in the breeze as Terror Sky appeared beside of him.
“I have located several of the books. Two have crossed Angelica’s hands,” Charon stated. “Several of them are in the Heavens above. Varick’s destiny is being tampered with as we speak and so is Angelica’s for that matter.”
Terror Sky nodded, his expression blank. “Travel to Earth and find those books. It’s time we intervene before more damage is done.”
“What of Gyth? He’ll not be so welcoming once he learns who I am and what I’m after.” Charon lifted the hood of his robes revealing his face. “He will fear the worst if he suspects I am after Varick.”
“Let him fear whatever he will.” Terror Sky turned to walk away. “Someone needs to put some fear into him.”
Charon narrowed his eyes. “Do I have free reign?”
Terror Sky stopped in his tracks. “Do what you must. Varick must make the choice, regardless of what the gods above or below have planned for him. Gyth has changed so much of his true destiny it’s uncertain if we can even correct his path.”
“And Angelica? Is she to be protected or is she disposable?” Charon laughed as Terror Sky dropped his head. “Disposable then.”
“Her destiny is of little importance. In truth, she was never meant to be born. She is a consequence of Gyth’s actions. Pity that she must pay the price for Gyth’s lust to create the perfect Destroyer.”
“Is she not as her brother is? Will she not be a Destroyer after she goes through the Burning?” Charon’s question hung in the utter silence.
“Isten doesn’t see her future. Women were never to be Destroyers. Her destiny is a blank page. Varick is to be the focus of your attention.” Terror Sky turned slightly, shadows of secrets in his swirling eyes. “If Angelica becomes a problem, kill her.”
“Will that be necessary?”
“I wouldn’t order her death if it wasn’t.” Terror Sky’s jaw tightened. “Go. Do what must be done.”
Charon waved his hand and a vortex appeared. The River Styx gurgled, swirled, and waited. As he stepped into the vortex, an odd sight was displayed before him. Zena’s image appeared in the bubbles, swirled in different directions, and slowly disappeared.
She thought to use the portals without paying the ferryman? Charon grinned. She would pay; all paid the ferryman in one form or another. It had been too long since he bartered with someone for using Styx and he looked forward to the collecting. And he was eager to see exactly what the beautiful vampire goddess had to trade.
Chapter 13
Alera waited patiently in front of the museum for Angelica to come out. Running her hands over the steering wheel of her Jaguar XKR, she tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing. Angelica needed to know to the truth, needed to know what was going to happen over the next few days.
Her hands trembled as she looked down at her arms. Turning, she grabbed a light jacket from the back seat and shrugged it on. Her mate had returned home briefly and had left his calling card all over her. As quickly as tears slid down her cheeks, she wiped them away. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself, but the shame would always be there, lingering in the depths of her heart.
Lost in her thoughts, Alera jumped when a horn beeped. Squaring her shoulders, she watched as Angelica walked down the steps in front of the museum. She shut her eyes, counted to five, and stepped out of the Jaguar.
“Angelica?” Alera smiled when Angelica waved. “Do you need a ride?”
Angelica hurried across the parking lot. “Sure.”
Once they were both seated, Alera started the car. “You know, it’s not real safe to be walking alone around here.”
“I don’t have much a choice. My car is broke down and can’t afford to get it fixed anytime soon. Besides, God gave me two legs and two feet, might as well use them.” Angelica looked out her window. “I don’t see any danger in walking. It’s not like someone is going to jump out and grab me in broad daylight.”
“Still, you should consider getting your car fixed.” Alera tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “There’s all kind of things that could happen, especially to someone like you.”
Angelica laughed. “Someone like me?”
Alera thought of her sisters. Women who were descendants of the gods above needed to be protected at all times. So few of them lived through the Burning.
She knew it was time to explain things to Angelica whether she wanted to hear it or not.
“Yes, someone like you. There’s something I need to explain about that birthmark.” Alera glanced at Angelica; saw the sudden peak of interest in her eyes. “Just promise to listen to everything I need to tell you.”
Angelica slowly nodded, biting her lower lip. “Okay.”
Pulling up to a red light, Alera reached over and squeezed Angelica’s hand. “Some of the things I’m going to say are going to be hard to believe.”
“You act like there’s going to be skeletons falling out of the closet.” She pulled her hand away. “I’ll listen just because I’m curious about my mother.”
The light turned green as Alera cleared her tight throat. “We’re descendants of the goddess Amay, the last descendants.”
“Stop the car.” Angelica grabbed the door handle. “Stop the car, Alera!”
Alera swerved to the curb, the front tire hitting the concrete. She grabbed Angelica’s arm. “You said you would listen.”
“You need professional help.” Angelica jerked her arm away. “I’m not going to listen to this garbage.”
“You’re going to enter the Burning.” Alera slammed the car into park. “Things are going to start happening to you. Your hormones are going to go into over-drive. The first signs are dizziness, confusion, an overwhelming need to have sex, and … ”
Angelica jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Alera cursed under her breath and slammed her palms onto the steering wheel. She had to get Angelica to listen even if she didn’t believe any of it.
Turning the key off and getting out of the car, Alera followed Angelica, sped up to catch her. “And there’s a chance you won’t make it out of the transition alive.”
Angelica stopped. “Do you have an idea just how crazy you sound?”
Alera glanced down the sidewalk, noticed how quiet and empty the row of houses looked. They were all the same; white picket fences in neat little rows, same structure, and same color. The wind wasn’t blowing; the air was dead and empty, stale. She felt like she was standing in the center of a movie prop or a ghost town.
She shook off the eerie feeling and nodded. “Yes, I know it sounds crazy.” She held out her arm, pointing to the birthmark. “This isn’t just a birthmark. It’s a sign, a warning for those of us who have to go through the transition.”
Angelica looked at her wrist. “What transition?”
“Descendants born on Earth mature in a human form until they reach thirty years of age. That’s when the Burning starts.” Alera took Angelica’s hands into hers. “The dormant DNA in your body will surface, change your cell structure. It’s painful and terrifying. If you survive, the power of the One Race will flow through your veins.”
“If I believed anything you’re saying, which I don’t. My first question would be; why would descendants have to go through pain? Why wouldn’t they just be born with power?”
“Members of the One Race are only part god or goddess. The laws of the Heavens decree anyone born with human DNA isn’t allowed to dwell in the Heavens. Those same laws say that for us to have power, immortality, or any kind of distinction, we must endure the Burning.” Alera released Angelica’s hands. “You must allow someone to take you thro
ugh it.”
Without a word, Angelica pushed past Alera and walked away. Alera stood there, praying to Gyth for Angelica’s safe journey. Her niece had no idea just what she was going to experience, the pain, the fear, the maddening drive to mark the one who took her through the transition.
She looked up to the clear sky and closed her eyes. “Gyth. Angelica Dark, my neice, descendant of Amay, has no idea of what is to come. Please, pick a worthy, gentle Destroyer to help her survive this.”
Lightning danced across the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance. When she opened her eyes, clouds had appeared. Quickly getting back to her Jaguar, she trembled as she slid under the wheel. Her car started of its own accord, the radio blasting in her ears.
The sky rumbled and hail fell from the Heavens.
• • •
Gyth glided down the hall of One Race Legacy, his pristine robes swirling about his bare feet. On both sides of the hall, scrolls lined the shelves. Within the pages, every member of the One Race was listed. Their birthdate, names, and their date of death inscribing as the events unfolded.
Stopping, he reached out and took one from the shelf.
Amay’s name was etched into the seal and he slid his fingers over each letter. The letters began to glow and the scroll opened. He ran his finger down the length of names, dates, and genders until he found two that were not deceased. Gyth stared at one of the names, his eyes swirling with golden fire.
Angelica Dark’s name stared back at him. Gyth read the small passage under her name, his anger flushing his cheeks. Someone had taken very careful steps to hide her from him but thanks to Alera, he now knew of her existence.
He spoke and the walls shook, the floor groaned, and dust fell from the ceiling. “Daughter of Feverand and Antonia Dark, the only female born from one of my Destroyers.”
Slamming the book shut, he turned on his heel. No doubt, Amay and Grace were behind this incident. They continuously conspired with one another, creating drama and needless chaos. He had overlooked most of their childish antics; this time however, he would not be so forgiving.
“Lord Gyth?” The female voice was low, childish. “I would speak with you.”
“Yes.” Gyth narrowed his eyes as one of the bookkeepers appeared in front of him. “What is it?”
“Charon is awaiting you in the throne room. He insists he must speak to you at once.”
“Charon?” Gyth handed the small goddess the book. “Charon the ferryman?”
She nodded, her blond curls bouncing around her angelic face. He watched her float up and replace the scroll. His jaw flexed as he leaned against one of the shelves.
True, he was lord of the Heavens, but he wasn’t all-seeing or all-knowing. That didn’t mean he didn’t have eyes and ears everywhere.
“Who else comes to visit this place?”
She turned, still hovering by the shelf. “Most of the other gods and goddesses have been here.”
“Do any of them look at these scrolls?”
“They stand and stare at most of them, but only open their own.” She shrugged as she floated to his side, “A few have tried to open other books but no one ever succeeds. The books only open to you and to the bloodline of which it’s inscribed.”
“Amay and Grace?”
“They have stood where you stand now. Thirty human years ago, Amay opened the same one as you.” She looked down the hall, her blue irises swirling. “Charon grows impatient.”
Gyth could barely remember the old god’s face, hadn’t seen him since the Olympians had been defeated. And he didn’t really care if Charon was growing impatient or not. Under the circumstance, he had bigger issues to deal with.
Angelica Dark’s Burning. What were the odds she would be like her brother? What were the odds she would make it through the transition alive?
“If anyone comes to this place again, inform me immediately.” He straightened himself and glided back up the hall.
She bowed her small head, “Of course, my lord.”
Chapter 14
Varick stood in front of Angelica’s door. Nervously pulling at the collar and tie of his black dress shirt. He considered turning to mist and taking his ass back home to change into jeans and a T-shirt. A quick glance at his Dodge Viper changed his mind. How would he explain his disappearance if she saw the car before he returned?
He was a proverbial train wreck, derailed and useless. He readjusted his collar and ditched the tie. Trying to convince himself he could make it through the night without appearing to be crazed, he cracked the muscles in his neck and regained some of his calm.
The dark purple roses in his hand slipped from his grasp and he caught them an inch before they hit the porch floor. Inspecting them carefully, he wished he had gotten the red ones. Or the yellow ones.
He ran his free hand over his hair making sure it was neatly pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck. He could do this. Romancing a woman was easy. A few right words and a few well-placed touches and she would be more than ready for him. She would be begging.
He had this under control.
Gods above, who am I kidding? He was completely hot-wired, a remote controlled time bomb waiting to explode and Angelica was holding the detonator.
Said detonator holder opened the door and he forgot how to breathe as he took her appearance in. She was flat out gorgeous. A black, tight leather skirt hung from her hips like a second skin. Her black hair was pulled back with ringlets of hair hanging down her shoulders. Onyx earrings dangled from her ears and she wore a matching ring on her forefinger. He silently wished he was her black, silk sleeveless blouse so he could wrap around her body the same way it did.
She smiled, her eyes dropping to the skirt. “It’s not a dress.”
Varick handed her the roses rather clumsily trying to find his voice. Angelica stepped back, invited him in.
“I like it. You look good in black.”
“I love the color black, always have.” He went to the living room as she spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll just put these in some water and I’ll be ready to go.”
He looked at the door, was tempted to haul his ass right back out of it. But he couldn’t do that. His beast needed to be sated. He turned and watched Angelica. He liked her, she was spunky and charming. The best inside his mind roared with agreement.
The way she was standing and moving reminded him of a moth. Delicate. Soft. He liked moths. They were graceful and beautiful. And creatures of the night, just like him.
He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? Once he was through with her, he would go back to his normal life of hunting and destroying. She would be just a memory and he would never look at another moth the same.
Angelica set the flowers on her table and walked toward him. “Ready?”
He nodded. Letting her take his arm, he led her out the door and waited as she locked up. Her scent danced around him making him to want to bury his face in her hair, in her neck.
She stepped off the porch and looked over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He tried to smile. His face felt like it was made of stone. “It’s been a long day.”
“We can cancel, if you want to.” He sensed her disappointment. “I’ve had a long day too.”
He went to his Viper, opened the door for her. “Absolutely not going to cancel. We have a date and it’s a special day. Happy birthday, Angelica.”
Her face lit up. “Okay. Where we going?”
“I made reservations at Raven’s.” She slid into the car giving him a questioning look. “Raven’s is down by the beach on Third and Main. Members only.”
“Oh.” She relaxed into the leather seat as he closed the door and sprinted around to the driver’s side.
He slid into his seat and started the engine.
He heard her laugh. Glancing over at her, he put the Viper in reverse. “Is something funny?”
“A demolition man?” She ran her hand over the dash of the car. “Very nice car.”
He drew his eyebrows together. Nodded his head. Realization dawned on him, he had driven one of the most expensive cars he owned and was taking her to the most expensive place in Fether.
“Destroying things pays damn good.”
“Apparently, it does.” She smiled. His heart hammered. “Maybe I should go into that line of business.”
Varick laughed. “It’s dangerous and dirty. Lots of smoke, fire, and flying debris.” He backed out of her driveway and pulled up to the first stop light. “Long hours and huge messes to clean up.”
They rode in silence through the city, the occasional street light flickering. When he pulled into the parking lot at Raven’s, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles before getting out of the car.
If he were smart, he’d take her back home. Just forget the whole thing and deal with the beast on his own. He opened her door and knew he couldn’t. As she stepped out and slid next to him, his heart seized and his beast rattled his brain cells.
• • •
In the park across from Angelica’s house, a slack jawed woman stood. Her empty eyes followed the black Dodge Viper as it drove down the street. Through her eyes, Damon watched. As he closed the connection, the woman fell forward, dead before she hit the ground.
Damon turned from the cauldron in his room and paced the floor. He had been keeping an eye on Varick for some time now and knew the Destroyer couldn’t sense witches as he did vampires. It was disgustingly easy to spy on him.
This woman Varick had become attached to intrigued Damon. And the street she lived on was interesting as well. The witch could not cross the street which meant someone was protecting the woman. Someone was hiding her.
Embrace the Fire Page 9