by Evi Asher
Wyatt seemed to be one of the good guys, and when you lived forever, good guys weren’t always easy to find.
“The archives are going to be a tough one.” Wyatt got moving again.
“Why? It’s just a library, not some kind of treasury or vault,” Grave pointed out.
“Yeah, but Ryder is in charge of it, and he’s worse than... Damn I can’t even think of a good comparison where his tenacity is concerned.”
“That bad, huh?” Athera asked.
“Ryder is the King Kong of bad-ass vamps. He’d as soon kill you as look at you. The only thing he gives a shit about is that archive, and getting past him is going to be damn near impossible.”
“But not completely impossible.” Grave moved another branch out of the way, and Athera saw ahead in the distance the crumbling façade of a mansion. She walked forward, but Grave was next to her, and in a few steps, he seemed to be keeping close to her. She had to admit she liked his hovering.
“No. Not impossible. I’m one of Ryder’s few friends. I might be able to get you access.”
“But we are going to see the king, and he will give us access, I’m sure of it and—” Athera didn’t get chance to finish her sentence, because Wyatt was laughing.
When he stopped laughing, his expression grew serious. “Ryder doesn’t give a shit what the king says. He does what he wants to do. The king wouldn’t even try to order him around.”
“What makes him so special?” Grave asked.
“Not special—deadly, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s the king’s twin brother.”
“Poe’s uncle?” Athera was shocked. She instantly pictured a doddering old man with a walking stick. “Deadly?” Nah, he couldn’t be that bad.
“Worse than a hemorrhagic fever in a human city.” Wyatt shook his head and walked onto what looked like it once was the mansion’s lawns.
“I’m going to get you settled into some rooms first, then I’ll go hunt down Ryder and try and talk him into letting you into the archives. There is no point you seeing the king now. Only Ryder can decide.”
“No, we will go with you directly to Ryder,” Grave informed Wyatt.
Wyatt shook his head and sighed. “It’s your decision, but it’s a bad one.”
“Noted.” Grave waved his hand toward the mansion. “However, us standing around or waiting around isn’t going to get us any closer to that weapon, so lead the way.”
Chapter Seven
Athera tried to take in the scenery as they made their way through the decrepit mansion, but Grave distracted her. He kept touching her, and whenever he touched her, her heartbeat sped up.
Focus, she admonished herself. Always know your way out. It was the first lesson Archer had taught the phoenix women when they’d started training.
She could hear his voice in her head. Know at least two exits to wherever you are. You do not want to get cornered. You never want to get cornered.
She took in her surroundings. They were moving through the mansion. It looked as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. The wallpaper was peeling. There were holes in the wooden floorboards. She stepped around one as she glanced into what should be the living room or parlor of the house—sheet-covered furniture lumps shrouded in the darkened space. It was eerie, and she felt a shiver race up her spine. Not the pleasant kind, either.
Grave seemed to tense next to her. He glanced over at the living room and frowned. Was he sensing some kind of presence there?
Athera nearly stepped in a hole. She quickly side stepped, just as she felt Grave’s hand on her lower back steering her around it.
She didn’t need to fall in another hole. That was what got her in trouble in the first place, that and her stupid curiosity.
If only she’d stayed at the entrance of the tunnel where she’d fallen in and where the others were above her. But noooo, she had to go explore the tunnel she’d uncovered. She had to find the interesting sarcophagus. Worse than that, she had to touch it.
They walked past the staircase—if one could call it that. It was a collection of broken boards and missing stairs. She’d be terrified of climbing it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Wyatt said from his place leading their little procession. “But if you know where to step, you can get to the top with no problems.”
“Who would want to?” Athera grimaced looking up at the darkened hall at the top of the stairs. The place was spooky, and yet even more spooky. She didn’t like this place at all. It reminded her of the horror movies Dani and she enjoyed watching. She found herself edging closer to Grave. If anyone could protect her from the boogieman, it had to be death, right?
Wyatt pushed through a swinging door that creaked with an ominous sound, making shivers race up Athera’s spine. She followed with Grave close behind her, and found herself in an antiquated kitchen, complete with a range stove and a rotting center table.
“The freaky keeps on coming. This place screams haunted mansion.”
“Yep,” Wyatt agreed. He turned into the far corner of the kitchen and Athera spotted a door.
Wyatt pushed through it and started down the stairs. “Step where I step. If you step wrong, you’ll end up at the bottom in a heap of disjointed angles.”
Athera swallowed the excess saliva that flooded her mouth and made a mental note to have a month long vacation when she finished taking out Nex-asshole.
She watched with intensity as Wyatt maneuvered down the stairs. He put his feet in specific paces, a discordant pattern that he seemed to know instinctively. At times, he would balance only on the front of his feet. It was like a dance, and she didn’t know the steps. She followed his example and breathed in a lungful of air as she reached the bottom. She was so aware of Grave right behind her that she automatically took two steps forward to give him space at the foot of the stairs.
“Vampires are determined to kill anyone who wishes to come and visit them,” Grave muttered, but that big warm hand of his was pressed to her lower back and she was too wrapped up in the feeling of safety to care what Wyatt answered.
“A bit further now.” He moved to a shelf in the far corner of the dark basement and depressed something—Athera couldn’t see what—and the shelf slid out of the way.
“Seriously,” she muttered. “I feel like I’m in a B-grade horror movie.”
“Yeah, I keep expecting Dracula to jump out and lift his clawed hands and holler, I vant to suck your blood,” Grave rumbled and Athera felt the laugh bubble up her throat. Her reaper had a sense of humor, surprising.
Ha! Rethink that one, girly. He isn’t your reaper.
She ignored the stray thought and braced for the next clichéd part of the trip.
A tunnel opened up behind the shelf and the cliché ended. It was lined with steel like a bunker. Light across the ceiling at intervals gave off lots of luminance, no gloomy corners, and no spiders staring out of webs with creepy eyes.
Normal—well, as normal as an underground tunnel could be.
Wyatt waited for them to enter the tunnel before depressing a button that swung the shelf back into place.
“Are there other exits to this place?” Grave asked, just as Athera remembered Archer’s rule.
“Plenty, if you know where to find them. I’ll show you a few in case things go bad and I’m not around to save your asses,” Wyatt offered.
Grave nodded. “That would be appreciated.”
“Come, let’s get a move on. The sun is going to rise soon, and I want to try to catch Ryder while he’s in the archives.”
They walked for about three minutes before they reached the exit of the tunnel. Standing there with arms cross across his chest was a huge vampire. He glared at Wyatt.
A bass voice rumbled from the vampire’s chest. “It’s about time. Did you take the scenic tour?”
“Dorian. I didn’t expect to find you guarding the entrance. Have you been demoted? No longer the king’s boot licker? Now, a door guard?”
Dorian flashe
d a set of impressive fangs at Wyatt before answering. “The king wants to meet the visitors you’ve brought in.”
“Sorry, my man. No can do. We have to head straight to Ryder. You know Ryder, right? The king’s twin, the one we don’t fuck with because he will feed us our own junk?”
A low growl escaped Dorian’s chest. “The king will not be happy.”
“Yes.” Wyatt nodded, his features taking on a mock-sad expression. “Thi, I know, but if I don’t take them to Ryder first... he did request their presence... ” He left it hanging.
Dorian stepped out of the way. “I will inform the king.” His fangs flashed again as he smiled slowly. “I will enjoy the punishment he gives you.” Without saying any more, Dorian turned and walked away down the right hand fork of the passage.
“Oh, I’m going to pay for that later,” Wyatt muttered as they took the left fork.
“Why didn’t you take us to the king, especially if you are going to be punished for refusing?” Grave asked.
“If I take you to the king, it will be a week before you get anywhere near the archive. He will have you jumping through every hoop he can manufacture before he lets you near his brother.”
There were doors on each side of the tunnel as they moved down it, some open to show other areas, some closed.
“Will he send other vampires to insist?” Grave asked.
Athera was sure he was thinking ahead, and about protecting her when the need arose. It made her hide a smile behind her hand. He was taking his task seriously, and she appreciated it. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy.
What kind of sap was she that a little protection from Grave made her go all ga-ga and melty?
“Not in time.” Wyatt stopped in front of a door that looked like all the others. “This is the door that leads to the archives. Let me do the talking, okay?”
“Sure.” Now that they were there, Athera felt her throat close with nervousness. She was praying they would find what they were looking for.
Athera followed Wyatt as he pulled the door handle open and strode into the room.
“Ryder... ” he started to say
There was a feminine screech from inside the room and Athera ducked around Wyatt to see who had made the noise.
Athera’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene in a moment.
They were in a small room that one could only call an office. The furniture consisted of a desk and two chairs, one on each side of the desk. Shelves lined the walls with books from ceiling to the floor, but what caught and held Athera’s attention was not what was in the room but whom.
A woman was diving for her clothes on the floor, scrambling to pull a dress over her head and getting it stuck. A large male hand reached over to help the woman, and Athera’s eyes followed the hand back to the male in question.
Wow...
He was as naked as the woman, and he didn’t seem to care. He stood tall and proud, helping the woman get her dress over her head as if he was wearing a tux and not his birthday suit. He was almost as tall as Wyatt, with muscle stacked on muscle. His abs were... She counted. The fiend had a frigging eight pack—never mind a six pack—and as her gaze traveled lower, her jaw unhinged.
He was erect and proud, and not small in that department.
This was the king’s twin? Her mental picture of an old doddering man went out the window.
“Damn it, Ryder. Do you always have to take your name so literally?”
Huh? Athera didn’t get it for a second, then chuckled. Ryder, Ride-her.
A large hand clamped over her eyes, blocking off her view of the infamous Ryder.
“Are you serious? Take your hand off my eyes, Grave. Right now!” Athera demanded.
She tried to peel his fingers off, but he was not letting go.
A deep laugh from Ryder made her more frustrated. Grave was treating her like a kid.
“Wyatt! You should know better than to barge into my office.”
Ryder’s deep voice made Athera tug at Grave’s fingers harder.
He responded by using his free hand to pull her against his body, giving him better leverage.
She felt air rush past her and realized the female must have left the office. The sound of a zipper pulling up got her released, and she blinked her eyes a few times.
Damn, Ryder had pulled on a pair of pants and picked up a wine glass. He took a sip and went to sit in the large chair behind the desk. The bare skin of his chest was a soothing contrast to the oxblood red of the leather.
He put his bare feet up on the desk and raised an eyebrow.
Ryder was looking directly at Athera. “Who do we have here?”
Athera found herself behind Grave’s back before Ryder even finished his sentence.
She rolled her eyes and stepped around the reaper. “I’m Athera Phoenix. I’m pleased to meet you.” It didn’t hurt to be friendly. She needed access to the archives.
Ryder’s gaze moved to Grave.
“Grave,” he muttered.
Athera had to stop herself from elbowing the stubborn reaper in the ribs. Gah, did he have to be so sullen?
Ryder looked at Wyatt last. “Well? Why have you brought me visitors?”
“I need a favor... ”
Before Wyatt could finish his sentence, Ryder started laughing.
It was a deep laugh, but infectious, and Athera felt a smile pull her lips.
Ryder’s laugh wound down. “You always need a favor. It’s a good thing you are my favorite poker buddy, or I’d have to take you out.”
Wyatt grinned. “You know you can’t beat the Duke without me.”
Before he could say anything else, there was a pounding on the door.
“Open in the name of the king.”
Ryder dropped his head back with a sigh, and called out, “What does my brother want now?”
The voice on the other side of the door ignored his question and repeated, “Open in the name of the king.”
“Oh for the love of... ” Ryder started.
Grave yanked Athena out of the way just as the door flew open with force, narrowly missing hitting her.
Two men barreled into the room, weapons drawn.
Athera felt her eyebrows climb to her hairline as she saw what the weapons were. Both men carried long swords. The things were nearly as long as she was tall. It would take some serious muscle to swing those babies.
Ryder was up and leaning forward, his knuckles on the desk. A growl filled the small room.
“How dare you,” he hissed, fury making a mask of his masculine features. Two-inch long fangs curved over his bottom lip and only seemed to grow longer as he drew back his top lip.
Once more, Athera was taken out of her direct view of the action by Grave. He yanked her behind him, and when she tried to step around him, he shoved his arm back, holding her there.
“Stay put,” he hissed.
Athera wanted to snort and tell him to shove his protective crap, but she decided she’d have to pick her battles with him, and this one wasn’t worth winning. Besides, she liked his protectiveness.
The first guard spoke. “The king demands the presence of the phoenix immediately.”
His sounded less sure of himself, and Athera could understand. From her position behind Grave, she still had a good view of Ryder, and the vampire looked seriously pissed off.
With the guard’s words, Ryder’s attention snapped in her direction and she swallowed the fear that filled her throat.
“Phoenix... So it’s not your last name, it’s your breed?”
“Yeah.” She was trying for flippant, and the word came out sounding unsure. Gees, she needed to pull herself together.
“You were going to tell me we had a real phoenix in our presence when, exactly?” Ryder speared Wyatt with his glare.
Wyatt shrugged and moved to lean against a bookshelf, crossing his arms over his chest. “Wasn’t like I got a chance to tell you anything before dumb and dumber here burst in.” He hiked his chin
in the direction of the guards.
Ryder glared at the guards. “These people are here to see me, not my dear brother. So you can run along now.” He straightened and waved them off.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the younger of the guards spoke up after a brief look passed between them. “The king was adamant. He vowed to separate us from our heads if we don’t return with the phoenix.”
Ryder let his head fall back. “Gods, does he have to be so melodramatic?” He looked over at Athera and Grave. “He gets it from our mother, I swear it. Thank the gods that is one gene I missed.”
He looked over at the guards again. “Okay, take them to the drama queen, but warn him I will be coming soon to fetch my guests, and he’d better not try any stunts that will get them killed before I can see them.”
The guards sheathed their swords, obvious looks of relief on their faces.
Athera wished she could feel the same, but she didn’t. She was so tense her stomach felt like a lump of rock.
One of the guards turned and walked through the door. The second motioned for Athera and Grave to follow.
Grave reached back and clasped her hand in his, then led the way. The second guard followed behind.
Athera cursed inwardly and used a military term that suited their current dilemma. SNAFU—Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.
Chapter Eight
It was another long trip through the bowels of the Vampire’s bunker, but this time Athera didn’t pay much attention to the scenery. She was nervous, her hand still clasped in Grave’s as he walked at her side. Wyatt trailed behind them. She had no idea why he’d decided to go with them, but a somewhat familiar face was not unwelcome.
Athera had a bad feeling. Yes, it might sound like a cliché, but it was true anyway. They were in strange territory, a place they’d been warned was fraught with danger. She was aware they were supposed to see the king to start with, but suddenly it didn’t seem like such a good idea.
They reached the end of a long corridor and a large set of intricately carved wooden doors. She didn’t get a chance to see what the carvings were of before the doors opened from the inside and her attention was on what was in the room.