Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Read online

  “You did what?” Avery shouted. Ink swarmed over his face and head.

  Next second, Avery was in EJ’s face. EJ didn’t hesitate; he hauled back and planted his fist in Avery’s face. EJ didn’t pull his punch. He gave the newly minted God of Chaos his best shot.

  The blow whipped Avery’s head around and knocked him on his ass. Avery rolled to his feet and paused. No Ink crawling over his face. No anger flaring from his eyes. If EJ had to guess, he would say his big brother was stunned.

  Fucking A!

  “Good luck explaining how Ridley escaped to your girlfriend.”

  “Why would you let her go?” Avery stood. He didn’t approach.

  EJ knew why he did it, but Avery didn’t deserve an answer. EJ stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his feet, and pasted a goofy smile on his face. “Bad decision, right? Rack it up to me thinking for myself. Something I’ve never been allowed to do. It actually felt good. I think I’ll do more of it.”

  He whistled as he strolled away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Exhaustion nipped at Hathor. Traces of Tau’s aura lingered all over Africa. What should’ve taken Hathor seconds, stretched into painful days. Their intrinsic link meant there was no place on Earth that could hide her child. So why couldn’t she locate him? Where is he? Became her silent chant.

  A few hours ago, she located Brayden barely alive in a backwater hospital. A trace of Tau’s aura clung to Brayden’s flesh and led her to his bedside. As far as the staff knew, no others had survived a mining cave in. Hathor didn’t believe that. Yes, she’d stripped her son of his powers to help Nu. Hathor hadn’t taken all. She’d left him enough…unless he used his power to shield his best friend and then …she forced the abhorrent thought away. Even if he were dead—she had weakened—his body would not remain hidden from her. If she had to tear the continent apart, she would find her child.

  A filthy bandage covered much of Brayden’s forehead. Dried blood caked his chestnut hair into a black, matted mess. She placed a hand on his chest and concentrated. Immediately, the wound on his forehead knit together. She sent a pulse through his body, healing all his other wounds. He coughed, a blessed sound even though that was the extent of his movement. A wave of her hand sent him back to RockGate, where the others could watch over him.

  A few questions to the locals directed her to the abandoned mining camp five miles from the town. They whispered that the dig was illegal, that’s why the government had not been informed, and there had been no search for survivors.

  Hathor swallowed her wasted anger. Recriminations wouldn’t save her son. At the brink of dawn, she arrived at the abandoned encampment. Tattered canvas tents fluttered in the stiff breeze as she floated between discarded equipment, supplies, and broken furniture. A torn newspaper lay plastered to a splintered windshield of a battered Jeep, the print dated three months ago. The villagers had abandoned the camp without a backward glance.

  A sound mixed with the breeze: a wheeze, maybe a final breath? Had she imagined it?

  Three vultures squawked near the opening of the mining shaft. The birds could mean only one thing.

  Merciful Ra, no. Not my baby

  More terrified than she had ever been in her entire existence, she ran, tripping over pottery, scrambling over the landscape in her desperation to see what carrion the birds fought over. They squawked at her, and then flapped a few yards away as she raced closer.

  She collapsed to her knees in relief, tears flowing freely. The corpse was that of an animal. Not her child.

  Gods! All of her trembled. What would she do if she didn’t find him?

  He’s alive. He has to be.

  Determination shoved her fear to the back of her heart. She used her power to fling the debris aside and gain entrance to the dark tunnel. A partially buried body greeted her a few feet from the opening. A flick of her hand removed the fallen beams and sand then gently flipped the person onto his back.

  Not Tau.

  She faced the blocked tunnel. He had to be near. She traveled through the mineshaft, shifting massive amounts of sand and rock out of the way.

  Tau could’ve done this if I hadn’t stolen his power. But what was she to do, ignore the matriarch of the pantheon and doom their entire species? Nu was the last link to Ra. Without her, they would all perish.

  Still, guilt assailed her. If Tau died because of her actions…

  No, it was impossible. His power far surpassed hers. Once released from the protective cage, and after she borrowed them, they would have returned to their rightful owner. As the product of two pantheons, Tau should be impervious to any harm. He couldn’t be buried here. He couldn’t be dead.

  She pushed through the last barrier and discovered a small space. Tau’s essence was strongest here. That of the living. Not the dead. He survived the cave in. So where was he?

  “Tau!” Hathor expanded the space so she could stand. She spun, searching for her child. Once again, panic sliced her and quickly changed into desperation. “Tau!” Her voice croaked through the one syllable.

  “Greetings, Hathor.”

  Everything inside Hathor ground to a halt. She froze, her fear magnified tenfold. That. Voice. A mirror of her own, only laced with menace and no trace of love, she hadn’t heard it since…

  “Yes. It is I.”

  Breath suspended in her chest, Hathor peered over her shoulder into a corner. The darkness peeled away as if it were a curtain on a Broadway stage. Revealed in the slit of unknown light, Sakhmet.

  “Greeting, Great Goddess.” Sakhmet, The Lion, Butcher of Ra, The Destroyer, bowed low. “It is good to see you continue to live, sister.”

  Terror gripped Hathor’s soul as she absorbed the unexpected presence of her greatest enemy. She was dressed in the same bloody linens she wore when condemned, only now she was ashen with shriveled skin, and gray hair. In a blink, Hathor’s stunned senses processed it all.

  “I am not your sister,” she hissed as she gathered her power to strike, even as the knot in her chest expanded. If Sakhmet was free and here, where was Tau? Fear nearly paralyzed Hathor at the thought of Sakhmet sinking her claws into her son.

  “You have spoken true. Our connection is much closer than mere siblings. We are one and the same. I am you. You are me.” Sakhmet moved closer with an undulating grace that belied her pitiful condition.

  “I am nothing like you,” Hathor snapped.

  Sakhmet’s pitted eyes swirled with an unholy light. “True. We are dissimilar in every way…now. The purity of your soul is an armor—”

  “—against the blight of this world.” Hathor finished the sentence. “Against you.” Her power coalesced into a tight ball in the palms of her hands.

  Sakhmet’s laugh rippled the air between them. “What do you intend with that baleful display? Please Hathor, do not tax yourself. I have no intention of harming you or your progeny.”

  Hathor stilled. “I have no progeny.”

  “Do not speak falsehoods.” The words crackled with menace, though her features remained blank. “It is beneath our stations to attempt such deceit when the truth is apparent. Blood calls to blood. My blood calls to you. His blood calls to mine. Your blood calls to him. It is a balance within the three of us that shall not be broken.”

  “Where is my—he?”

  Sakhmet’s head cocked to the side as if the question surprised her. “You do not know? Can you not sense him? My, how your powers have waned over the millennia.”

  Her words cut deep. “As have yours. The Egyptians are no longer in power. None of the pantheons are. Disciples are few. Humans prefer one God, rather than many.”

  “Then it is fortuitous I have borrowed your son’s vis’Ra.”

  The blast hit centimeters above Hathor’s heart and pinned her to the cave wall. Pain danced through every fiber of her body. She tried to speak, to curse the wretched creature stalking closer to her. No sound issued from her vocal cords.

  Sakhmet moved closer,
her movements fluid, graceful as a panther about to strike. “Your son is beyond your reach.”

  Despair gripped Hathor and multiplied. There was only one place Tau could be where she couldn’t reach him. A place only Sakhmet could’ve sent him. A place where Hathor could never go.

  Against her will, her chin raised, exposing the column of her neck—the human eye would’ve seen nothing more than a blur of motion—Hathor witnessed Sakhmet’s transformation from a resurrected deity to a monster. She didn’t close her eyes. She watched Sakhmet’s lips peel back, fangs drop down, and talons spring from her hands.

  Sakhmet struck fast. Flesh gave way under the brutal assault. Sakhmet’s fangs pierced Hathor’s skin and muscles to bury deep in the artery. Mundane blood would not sustain. She sought the viscous ichor flowing in the veins of all deities. With deep suction, she pulled the divine elixir out of Hathor. The resounding growl of a large cat pleased with its kill filled the space. Hathor shuddered and locked her knees. She would not fall.

  Minutes or millennia, Hathor couldn’t guess how long Sakhmet pulled at her throat. The assault seemed to go on forever until Hathor was certain, regardless of the consequences to herself, the Butcher would drain every drop. A husk would remain, nothing more than the dried outer shell of her divinity. Would she do it? Would Sakhmet actually kill her? Disbelief kept Hathor pinned to the wall as much as Sakhmet’s power.

  The last drop of her essence scraped through her artery, crawling up her chest and neck, searching for purchase, anything to hang onto and not leave the only environment it had ever known. Hathor was beyond shocked. This couldn’t be how she died, killed by—

  At the cusp of touching Sakhmet’s fang, the suction ceased. One lick from the Executioner’s rough tongue sealed the punctures closed.

  “I shall not slay you. Not only because you are dear to what is left of my heart. I want you to suffer. To wonder. To die a little each day, as I have. Only then will I take the one thing you love.”

  Slumped on the ground, Hathor didn’t have the strength to scream.

  Her beauty restored, her veins filled with the vis’Ra of Hathor and Tau, Sakhmet spun in a wide circle; a laugh cascaded from her like the fall of water striking stone. “Freedom! Goodbye, Hathor. I will not be so kind in our next meeting. Prepare for the pain of a thousand lifetimes.” Sakhmet vanished as the last word echoed inside the chamber, leaving Hathor huddled on the dirt floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A familiar, calloused hand caressed Emeline’s cheek. She purred and nestled into the warm palm, seeking more of his touch then winced. A muscle in her neck twinged in protest, which opened a floodgate of memories.

  Ridley! Emeline knocked Avery’s hand away and jerked upright. She scanned the room, instead of focusing on the man she loved.

  “Where is she?” she snapped and leaped from the bed. Intent on returning to the basement, she almost didn’t hear Avery speak.

  “Gone.”

  That single word or the graveled tone of his voice, she couldn’t be sure which, halted her. Gone could mean so many things. Gone to sleep, gone as in dead—which would greatly please her—or…

  Emeline pivoted, her body taut. Avery’s grim face answered her unspoken question. Still, she had to hear him say it. “Where?”

  One word. One syllable. Yet a thousand unsaid things hung in the space separating them. “EJ let her go.” Avery rose from his seat on the edge of the bed.

  He did what? Her breath left her on a whoosh so fast she forgot to inhale before, “You let him,” wheezed out. She sucked in a much needed breath of air and screamed, “Where did she go? What direction?”

  His hands fisted at his sides; a statue displayed more emotions. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

  I had her. She was finally gonna pay for everything she put me through, for killing my grandfather. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. “Why didn’t you stop them?”

  Something akin to pain pinched his marbleized features. She blinked and it was gone. “Emeline—”

  “She has to pay, Avery. For what she did to the Order and my Grand.”

  He came to her, gently grabbed her arms, and stared deep into her eyes. She wanted none of his reasoning.

  “She killed him. She killed Grand! She has to pay for it!”

  He shook her hard. “You already beat the crap out of her. She knocked you out in self-defense.”

  “She got lucky!”

  Avery gave a brittle laugh. “What did you expect? For her to lie there and let you kick her ass?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did.” Emeline mustered as much sarcasm as she could.

  “Do you not understand you both could’ve died? How much more do you want?”

  “I. Want. Her. Dead,” she said with all the hatred boiling in her heart.

  “For your grandfather?”’

  “Yes.” She hissed and tried to pull away, but his hands were steel cages on her arms. “He didn’t deserve to die on the sidewalk, no better than roadkill, his lungs filled with smoke.” Would she ever forget his last breath or the blue tarp covering his body? No. No, she wouldn’t.

  “Baby, she didn’t light the fire in the warehouse.”

  “She was the reason we were there.”

  “No.” He shook her again. “Your grandfather did that. Not Ridley. He lied to you, led you to the warehouse. He—”

  “Are you defending her?” Emeline yanked out of his embrace. “Ridley Cross broke into my home, threatened to hurt my ninety-two-year-old grandfather if I didn’t deliver you to her so she could hand you over to Khuket.”

  “She’s also responsible for getting us together.” He waved a finger between the two of them.

  For a moment, her fury ebbed and love swam in her eyes. In the next blink, it was gone. “She sent two men to kick my ass the night you scooped me up off the pavement and conveniently became my bodyguard. She orchestrated, manipulated our lives. Ridley’s responsible for all of this!” Emeline flung her hands in a helpless gesture.

  Avery folded his arms across his chest. “You tell me this now when you’ve had ample opportunity?”

  Stunned, her mouth hung open. “That’s your response? After everything I’ve said, you’re pissed at me?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Would it have made a difference? Would you have stopped her from leaving? Kept her locked up?”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  And with that, she had all the answers she’d ever need.

  ~~~~~~~

  Avery had tried, but Emeline wouldn’t listen. Vengeance clouded her brain to anything else. The best thing he could do now was to leave her alone, let her calm down before they said something they’d regret. Maybe later she’d be able to see his point, hear what he had to say, possibly view her grandfather through a new pair of glasses. The man wasn’t noble. At every opportunity, he’d used and manipulated his granddaughter. Avery said as much, as gently as he could, but that old adage ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead’ hampered him. Eme couldn’t see any of her grandfather’s faults. In death, he’d become a saint.

  “I can’t stay here with you any longer. I’m leaving.”

  Midway to the bedroom door, Avery halted. Those were the last words he’d expected to hear. Anything but what she’d just uttered. Her declaration struck deep and stayed, wedged in bone. His Ink swarmed across his skin, hurtling him toward a precipice.

  He should pull her into his arms, kiss her, confront her, demand she stay. Bend her to his will. He could do it. Using his new powers to control her would be so easy. Too easy.

  He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. If her love for him—for what they had—wasn’t strong enough to keep her by his side… “No one will make you stay. No. One.”

  The words ripped from his throat with a snarl that wasn’t quite human. She gasped, and he scented her fear in the air, and didn’t care. The chaos swirling in his veins doused his kinder emotions. The control he fought so long to achieve
crumbled.

  Chaos leeched out of his pores. In his final moments of clarity, Avery swept out of the bedroom. He entered the hallway as a dark swirling mass of destruction. The walls cracked. Chunks of plaster and ceiling tiles rained. He burst through the window at the end of the hallway and into the midnight sky.

  Rage propelled him miles into the heavens. His trajectory aimed at taking him as far away as possible from hurting anyone. He passed the stratosphere and the mesosphere where no airplanes traveled, and exploded in a riotous display of lightning.

  Hours later, he returned to the earth miles away from their home. He walked to the Order, afraid of what he would find though not surprised when he pushed open the bedroom door to the suite they shared and found it as empty as his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hathor flashed onto the rooftop of her Harlem Brownstone. It had taken her hours to gather her strength. In that time, she’d cried for all she’d lost and failed. Now, decisions had to be made, plans set in motion, defenses enabled.

  Head tilted back into the biting cold, Hathor sobbed, “My love, I have failed our son. Forgive me and give me the strength to defeat my demon.” She didn’t speak her name, wouldn’t give her further dominion over her life.

  “The first round is yours. But this war is just beginning. Tau will return. He will find a way, and together we will shove you back into your tomb.”

  The wind shifted, caressed her cheeks, tugged on her ceremonial robes, and brought the scent of charred flesh to her nostrils.

  Sedately, she turned and faced the door to the rooftop. Without preamble, she opened the door. The smell would’ve choked a human. After living through the birth of a planet, endless wars, a few centuries in the lava pits of Duat, she had intimate knowledge of what the odor meant.

  That knowledge didn’t stop her wobbly knees as she walked through her bedroom. Her gaze touched on a few mementos. She could’ve flashed and been in the living room in an instant. That would have robbed her of her last precious seconds of sanity.