With the immortal bent over at such an angle, Rhett found purchase and gave a mighty pull. The yank combined with the precarious lean threw the immortal off balance.
For one blessed second, the sword hung suspended in the air while the Servant pitched forward, boot scraping off Rhett's head in an attempt to catch his footing.
Rhett felt skin give way, felt hair get yanked out of his scalp.
In that distracting moment, he drew his boot up and planted it in the middle of the Servant's body, throwing him up and over and onto the ground. Aware the immortal would wind up rolling, Rhett didn't shoot to his feet. He used the immortal's weight against him.
Snagging the elaborate hilt, he yanked as the Servant made contact with the earth, ripping the weapon out of his hand. Head pounding, Rhett staggered to a stand, bringing the sword up, and thrust the blade down toward the Servant's neck.
Missing the thrust by a half inch, the immortal rolled to his feet.
Rhett tugged the tip of the blade up out of the wet ground when he missed and swung sideways with all his strength. The length of the sword had good reach; the Servant's head toppled off, landing with a plop in a puddle.
Out of breath, ears ringing, the taste of blood in his mouth, Rhett surveyed the carnage as if from a distance. Arms wrapped him up from behind, soft arms belonging to a soft body, and he slung a hand around her shoulders.
Hugging Evelyn to him, he bent to kiss the top of her head, feeling her fear, the shiver of her breath from her lungs.
“It'll be okay,” he reassured her. He only hoped he was right.
***
The Temple of Isis loomed against the moody sky. Alexandra, never so happy to see it, walked alongside Dracht toward the entrance to the east and west colonnades. The last leg of their journey had gone better than their first. The only trouble was finding gas, food, clean water and a boat to cross the Nile in. Between them they managed all of it in a timely manner.
Alexandra wondered if Dracht felt as drained as she did. The snatches of sleep between driving shifts weren't enough to rejuvenate all her energy. Dracht, to her, seemed tireless. Somewhere, he held a reserve of strength that he continually drew upon through each experience and situation, coming out the other side on top. Alexandra couldn't help but be impressed. It wasn't the first time she thought so.
Besides all that, she was relieved to be here without the affects of the Sixth Seal breaking loose around them. Fraught with concern the whole trip, they were finally here, a stone's throw from Eden.
Dracht didn't question her about their location. He hadn't asked any questions for miles.
What did trip them both up was a large puddle of blood on the ground. Alexandra knew he saw it the same time she did, situated between the long colonnades.
Breaking into a jog, Dracht approached, crouching down with more agility than she could muster at the moment. Holding her side with a hand, just above her hip bone, she looked down when she got there.
“This is fairly recent,” Dracht said. He stood up and searched around the area, finding another spot where more blood, less than the other puddle, stained the ground.
Alarm coursed through her at the sight of it. Immediately she wondered if Rhett had turned on her sister after all, at the very last second. Then dismissed it from her mind. Rhett couldn't be that good of an actor. His affection for Evelyn was as real as the dead bugs crunching under the soles of her shoes.
“I don't see where anyone drug a body or anything,” she added, searching around the area for signs of a corpse. “Let's just get to the East Gate and see what Ashrael knows.”
“Lead on.” Dracht continued to search while she led him to a spot in the east set of colonnades.
“You have to follow exactly where I lead. No short cuts or anything.” Scraping her hair back, she tied the dark mane into a loose knot, securing it with a few clever twists and nothing more. He loomed at her back, a warm presence she'd become used to.
Alexandra, like her sisters, knew the key by heart. She could have walked it blindfold as easily as any of her siblings. Weaving in and out of the columns, she took him closer to the end until they emerged near the tall door between the enormous pylons.
She glanced back to see if he could feel the pressure in the air, that strange prickle that alerted the senses to something supernatural. A frown marred his brow, expression pensive. She met his eyes and nodded to acknowledge what he was feeling wasn't out of the ordinary. Reaching back, she took his hand.
The palm, lined with callouses from sword practice, engulfed her own. Alex led him forward, passing through the thick portal that didn't lead deeper into the temple but into an entirely different looking day. The shivering warp lasted only a second; when it fell away they faced the East Gate, sun shining bright and mellow from a blue sky. Gone were the thunderclouds and solemnity; here green grass spread out in all directions, plants and flowers dotting the ground in patches against the base of the Gate.
Ashrael was there, where he was supposed to be, as well as Minna, Rhett and Evelyn. Her sisters looked as ragged as she did, their hair in messy tangles, clothes wrinkled and askew. Rhett had blood on his shirt, his whiskers layered as thick as Dracht's on his jaw. The men looked gritty, hardened.
When Evelyn saw her she came over and Alex hugged her. One armed, smooching her cheek with relief. She did the same to Minna while the men greeted each other in a much more subtle manner.
“It's been a while, Alexandra,” Ashrael said.
“Yeah it has. You're lookin' goo--” Alex caught sight of a headless body off to the side, between the pylons and the East Gate. She couldn't really comprehend what she was seeing; the corpse was so out of place in this peaceful setting. A black smear, something sinister marring its pristine surroundings. The leather armor, just the feel of it hit her all wrong.
A Servant of the Fallen.
“He followed Evelyn and Rhett back from the cave and confronted them outside,” Ashrael explained. His armor had smears of blood all down the front that she hadn't seen thanks to the other distractions.
“Won't that start a war, Ashrael, you killing one of theirs?” She turned her face up to his, concerned.
“I didn't kill him. Rhett did.”
“What?” Shocked, Alexandra looked at Rhett. He was in one piece, not missing any arms or legs. A mortal man defeating a Servant of the Fallen was an impressive feat.
Rhett nodded once to confirm it was true.
“You must be Dracht,” Ashrael said, taking stock of the man. He did not offer his hand.
“I am. Who are the Servants of the Fallen?” Dracht was still staring at Ashrael with a considering frown.
Alexandra got caught up on what was happening at the same time Dracht did. She knew who the Servants were, what they represented, but not how it applied here.
Ashrael explained they were offspring of the Fallen, warriors gathered into an army waiting for one purpose. Children, yes, but not like any other children on earth.
“The rest we'll discuss when your father and brother get here,” Ashrael said, walking through the wide mouth of the Gate. From the other side, leaning against the wall, he picked up four swords and brought them back with him.
Gleaming, they looked new. The hilts were ornately carved as Ashrael's own sword, with gold lining the silver detail. Strips of leather wrapped each handle and arcane lettering marked the blade. A language long lost, symbols not seen by human men for centuries. Ashrael stabbed each one into the ground outside the gate and said nothing more about them.
“Wait, Dragar and Christian are coming?” Alex asked. She wasn't sure why or how Christian, of all people, would be allowed here. Not after his betrayal.
“Yes. And once they do, I will explain the next step on the journey.”
“What journey?” Dracht asked, frowning at Rhett and Ashrael.
“The one where we go get fruit from the tree of life and become their official Guardians,” Rhett answered.
Ashrae
l crossed his arms over his chest, back in front of the Gate. “That is not the journey I speak of. That is the trip you take after you and the Templars retrieve the stolen Seals from the Fallen.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ashrael would not be swayed into divulging more information until, if, Dragar and Christian arrived. He provided them with cool water, sweeter and clearer and better tasting than any left on earth, clean clothes, and bowls of fruit he carried out from Eden. The fruit were indigenous to Eden, made of round red globes, oblong peach shapes, small berries in clusters of dark blue and pink, and trough like wonders that filled a man's belly like meat. It satisfied every nutritional need; the other fruit burst on the tongue, loaded with juice, the flesh either neat to bite into or soft and buttery, all but melting in the mouth.
Obviously, Ashrael had prepared for their return after the initial group left on their mission. He encouraged them to bathe in a hidden spring behind a cluster of bushes and to sleep on the soft bed of grass when the sun finally sank, spraying the sky with orange and pink streaks. He did not let them cross through the Gate and into Eden itself, but allowed them to rest and recover in that pre-space between the pylons and the entrance.
Sleeping in Eden was a peaceful affair. The grass felt like velvet and cushioned exhausted bodies like welcoming hands. The temperature never dipped below seventy-two and didn't rise above seventy-six. A gentle breeze buffeted the trees and the skin, luring them all into the abyss of dreams.
Ashrael watched over all, seeing to their needs, attending everything except their constant barrage of questions and probing looks.
Tomorrow, if they were lucky, they would have the answers they sought.
***
The longer they waited, the more nervous Evelyn became. Every hour seemed to drag by, every minute an eternity. She and Rhett made periodic trips outside the pylons to check and see if Dragar and Christian were there. Ashrael cautioned them to have a care for any other Servants or the Fallen themselves. He thought it was unlikely that they would have spared more than one Servant following, but one could never be too sure.
She expected violent earthquakes, spewing volcanoes and horrific storms to descend any moment. Standing out between the colonnades, she stared at the gray day. Even the black sun couldn't penetrate the cloud cover. It lie like a behemoth over the earth, ready to dump a deluge down. Evelyn hated how suffocating and confining it felt. Stepping through to the East Gate was like drawing in a breath of fresh air compared to the dismal, perpetual gloom on the other side.
Her mind continued to play over the thoughts of claiming back the rest of the Seals the Fallen had stolen from the caves. She knew it wasn't only a test of the Templar's skill—though Rhett had won approval after his defeat of the Servant—but because the gift of immortality didn't come lightly. Fruit from the Tree of Life would not be handed across at whim. It had to be earned, as she and her sisters had been earning it all this time.
Christian would get a chance to redeem himself and explain why he'd done what he'd done. She still didn't believe him to be a heinous villain with greed and murder on his mind.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Rhett asked.
She smiled. It had become a fond question of his whenever she grew too thoughtful and introspective. “I've been worried the chaos will start all over again any time, before they get here. Or that they hit a snag somewhere along the way. Looking ahead, too, to what might await us when we go search for the Seals.”
“I think he should keep you girls here.”
“What? Why?” She stared aside, aghast.
“Because. This isn't going to be an easy task no matter how you look at it. The point is to protect you--”
“No, the point right now is to prevent the apocalypse from beginning again.”
“We're used to working together. You and your sisters will complicate things.”
“We might be able to help you. We know about them, what they're capable of.”
“I've seen what they're capable of.”
“Not the Fallen themselves. They're like Ashrael, and if you think he's like fighting the Servants, you're dead wrong.”
Rhett glanced at her. “So tell me. What's different?”
“I'm not going to tell you.”
“It would help us later on.”
“It might, but we'll be there anyway, as we should be. Only we can authenticate the Seals, too, in case they try to slip fakes past you.”
“I'm sure I'd be able to tel--”
“No you wouldn't.” Petulant about him wanting to leave her behind, she stared out beyond the edges of the colonnades.
“Are you going to start?”
“Start what?”
“One of your back-and-forth sessions with me.”
“Do you have to sound so reasonable? I'm starting because suggesting we stay here is ridiculous.”
“If I sound reasonable, it's because you secretly know I'm right and don't want to admit it.”
She snorted, a sound Alexandra might have made. “That's not true at all.”
“Yes it is. So tell me.”
“Ashrael will give you a rundown before we go.” Evelyn speared a hard look sideways at him. The bastard, all gruff and rugged, was grinning. She smacked his bicep and didn't care if she bumped a wound.
“I like it when you get mouthy.”
“You just like to goad me and get a reaction.”
“That too.”
“Are you going to suggest to Ashrael that we stay here?” She suspected it.
“Yes.”
“Rhett--”
“Look, Evelyn. It's what I think is the right thing to do.” He met her eyes. “It's not that I don't want you with me—us—but it'll be safer in Eden. That's why I started this whole mess to begin with. To make sure you're safe.”
“Even if it means your own life?” She put her hands on her hips. Evelyn knew the answer before he gave a curt nod.
“That's right. That's what Guardians are for. It's like the secret service to the President. That's their job if they think his life is in immediate danger. I just prefer keeping you out of the direct line of fire if I can. It'll help me concentrate if I don't have to wonder what's going on with you.”
“I can understand that.” Conceding his point on that term, it didn't dissuade her from her own. “Alexandra and Minna have fighting skills you might need. I don't, not really, but I can be helpful in other ways.”
“I'm not arguing against anyone's prowess. It's just simpler to me to keep you here where you're already safe, in the presence of a built in Guardian until we get back.” He arched a sandy brow.
Evelyn wished the expression he wore—one of thought out consideration with a dash of challenge—didn't affect her like it did.
He opened his mouth to argue when two figures lumbered around the corner of the west colonnade from the direction of the docks.
Dragar and Christian, clothes grungy, eyes lined with dark circles, headed their way. It looked like someone had chewed Christian up and spit him back out; his shirt had several small tears at the seams and tiny puncture wounds ran along his arm from the wrist under the sleeve. Hair a wreck, mouth grim, he stalked next to Dragar who didn't look much better. The eldest Sagan's whiskers had filled in around the goatee, giving him a light beard. Evelyn could see that they'd been in fights, perhaps several, by the bruising around a cheek and on an arm.
Rhett waited for them to come to him, but Evelyn could read the relief in his eyes, his posture.
And she was glad he had the last of his immediate family accounted for. The men clasped arms and Christian greeted her with an acknowledging kind of nod. I know I screwed up. I'm sorry.
There would be time later, maybe, for explanations.
“We need to get you inside--”
“Inside where? Hello, Evelyn.” Dragar took the time out to greet her formally, despite the situation they found themselves in.
“I'm glad you both made it.” She tur
ned to start leading them to the end of the east colonnade with Rhett bringing them behind.
“What the devil is going on, Rhett?” Christian asked.
“It's a long story. This is the way into Eden.”
“The Garden of Eden?” Christian sounded disbelieving.
“Yes,” Rhett answered, crowding Evelyn's back.
It could have been an awkward moment, considering Christian had tried to kidnap her out of the Templar stronghold back in Athens. She let it go; there was no need to hold grudges right now.
“Follow our path precisely. Don't deviate or take shortcuts,” she said over her shoulder.
“Why are we going into Eden? I really had something else I needed to be doing--”
“Christian.” Rhett's tone carried a warning that his brother heeded immediately. This was something bigger and more important, and Rhett didn't have to vocalize that to be understood.
Evelyn took that as her cue and began the intricate weaving web, steering the men through the ancient columns. The stone and earth smelled damp still from the onslaught of rain. Three quarters of the way through, the oppressive sensation hit her skin.
At the tall, square doorway, she glanced back, catching a view of all three faces. Rhett, experienced and knowing; Dragar, frowning and concerned; Christian, a mix of bewildered and confused.
She led them through the doorway, past the eerie, prickling warp of gray, into the much happier, sunnier Eden.
Behind her she heard Christian draw in a sharp breath and Dragar rumbled something incoherent and shocked. Stepping aside, she let them take the scenario in; the majestic Gate, the green, green grass, the others lounging around eating fruit and drinking water.
Dracht got up off the ground, brushed his jeans off, and went to shake his father and brother's hands.
“Son.” Dragar kept his greeting simple.
“Dad. Christian.”
Christian inclined his head curtly to his brother.
“Dragar, Christian, this is Ashrael.” Evelyn made the introductions from Rhett's side. Dragar and Christian both understood who and what Ashrael was—not that his armor and stature didn't give him away.
Daughters of Eve Collection (Books 1, 2 & 3) Page 47