Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Page 17

  He studied the departing cars. “The family has a cabin about two hours from here.”

  “Camping sounds like a great idea in the middle of winter.” She snorted. “I’m a city girl, if you couldn’t guess.”

  “Camping’s not so bad when you have company. And it’s a very nice cabin.”

  The brazen suggestion hung in the air between them. I’m not letting my mind travel down that road. “Is the entire Nicolis clan there? Their version of roughing it during the holiday season?”

  A smirk twisted his lips as if the idea was too damn funny. “Nope. Just me. I left RockGate the same day you left.”

  Interesting. “Why?”

  He paused, seemed to consider what to say. “Sibling issues.”

  That told her enough. EJ and Avery weren’t bosom buddies anymore. Probably her fault, but call her stupid, she liked living and being free. “Thanks for releasing me,” she said gruffly.

  He shrugged as if to say it was nothing. She knew better.

  “I want to help you,” EJ said.

  A bitter laugh escaped her. “Help me? Sure you do.”

  “I don’t lie,” he growled.

  Deep down where it counted, she knew he spoke the truth. “Fine. You want to help me. Get me Alamut’s blade. That’s what I need to stop the curse.” She tried tracking him. It should’ve been easy since she had contact with him at Frederick’s club. The bastard had vanished without a trace.

  Absently, he stroked his chin. “I can do that.”

  She folded her arms under her breasts and gave EJ what she hoped was a sardonic grin. “Really? Roman and Reign couldn’t find him, but you can?”

  EJ took the insult with a smile. “If I say I can do something, I will do it. Guaranteed.”

  She turned her face into the wind, away from the certainty on his rugged features, toward the highway a mile to the south. Trusting him, believing in him, God it would be so easy. Too easy. She chewed her lip. Tapped her toe in her sensible, black boots.

  “I hate that color on you.” He fingered the collar of the wool coat.

  His words surprised her, derailed her intention to flee. “Me, too.”

  “And that wig. What did they kill to make it?” He shuddered.

  Embarrassed, she ran her fingers through the synthetic strands. “It’s not that bad.” It was, but she wouldn’t admit that to him. EJ’s curled lips suggested otherwise.

  “Why red?”

  She sighed and huddled inside the coat. He wasn’t the first person to ask about her affinity for the color. “It’s vibrant. It represents life and all its aspects. Including death.” She mumbled, but then struck a pose. “Plus, I’m stunning in it.”

  “Yes, you are,” spoken husky and low. “I love you in red. Nothing sexier.” The words rumbled from him.

  Flames licked her blood. A clear warning something really bad was about to happen. Not apocalyptic bad. The bad that has your sense of self-preservation taking a vacation while your legs eagerly spread. No resistance, much like a teaspoon of butter thrown into a hot skillet.

  One guess who was the butter. She had to go...now.

  He cupped her face, swooped in as she was about to speed away. He gathered her to his body, brought her in so none of him remained a mystery. Thoughts of leaving vanished. She had to know, only then she would leave.

  Ridley braced for an attack of tongue and teeth, to be domineered and punished, surprisingly thrilled at the prospect. Not the gentle brush of his firm lips or the sigh that escaped when he settled over her surprised mouth.

  His delicious warmth, his heady taste, derailed her sense of preservation. One of his hands slid from her cheek to the back of her head while the other moved to her neck. His thumb stroked the column as his lips assaulted her with tender care.

  More. She hungered. The subtle invasion was the last thing she ever expected from EJ Nicolis. He always seemed to have the finesse of a semi at the Indy 500. Now…

  “What are you doing?” She managed to whisper when she came up for air.

  “Kissing you.” He brushed her lips again. Her nipples tightened, and tension pooled low in her groin. A tension that had nothing to do with escaping.

  “Is that what you call this?” Her voice wavered from desire spiking her blood. “I’ve had better kisses in sixth grade,” she teased.

  His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. He dropped his hands and stepped away. A cold wind whipped through the gap separating them. That was not what she wanted. Before logic replaced her temporary insanity, Ridley closed the distance and brought his face down to hers. She planted her lips on his and kissed EJ Nicolis the way she longed to kiss him.

  Ridley slanted her mouth over his and licked at the seam of his firm lips until they parted. Her tongue slid inside and invaded, yet he owned her mouth with each brush and thrust of his tongue. A tremble raced through her body. Her knees buckled a little and she had to grab onto his coat.

  His arms banded around her waist and brought her flush with his unyielding body. Captured, he moved her into the shadowed recess of the tree house. He took the kiss to another level. A level where the only thing that mattered was the man holding her, the feel of him, the heady taste. The heat—the desire and passion—denied so long, festering deep below the surface of her skin, clawed its way to the surface and demanded she pulled a chair up to the buffet bar and feast.

  Deprived of a family, her child, love, everything she’d ever wanted, now…Ridley wanted more. The more she couldn’t have because of the curse.

  No, whispered in the back of her mind.

  The sliver of rational thought died as their tongues dueled in a sensual dance. Breathless, she clung when she should have been running. She moaned when she should have been ordering him away for his own good and especially hers.

  Instead, she tilted her chin up for more.

  EJ snatched the wig off her head and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Her scalp stung, her body hummed. The hollow place between her thighs slickened, fueling her desperation. It had been so long. Years. His hands, she needed them on her. She unzipped her coat and did the same to his.

  She moved around the guns dangling from holsters under his arms and the blades lining his ribs to lift the hem of his shirt. Her cold palms met the ripples of his abs. His body jerked like a bow pulled tight and suddenly released, then he settled into her palm, encouraging her to explore.

  “Candy Cane,” he murmured into her mouth and licked his way deeper.

  He’d called her that the day they first met in the gathering room of the Order. On his tongue, coming out of his mouth, the words were more than a holiday treat. It was an endearment. One she wanted to hear again. Her hand slipped lower to cup the bulge straining between his legs.

  “Shhhit.” He hissed and gripped her wrist so she couldn’t move, as if it was her plan to grab a feel and retreat. His face loomed close, as did all of his massive body. Shadowed, his features were hidden then so were hers. He couldn’t see the need twisting through her. God, she wanted him deep inside her. His weight pinning her down, taking her to that place.

  Never going to happen. It was really time to go.

  EJ knocked her hand away and snatched her pelvis against his. “You want this?”

  Yoga pants. Damn! Every inch of him ground into her. Sweet Jesus. Her core clenched, ripping an anguished moan from her throat. Say no! Say NO!

  “C-can’t. The curse.”

  He rocked against her. “There are other things we can do.”

  His suggestion nearly made her explode. Made her want to say yes. Made her want.

  His hand snaked down the front of her pants, into her panties. Fingers parted her lips, slid against her clit—a needy cry ripped from her. She gripped his wrist hard to pull him away. A finger circled that tight bundle of nerves, tapped it.

  Ridley spread her legs and arched her pelvis for more. She welcomed his finger dipping into her core. It’s been so long.

  “I want to taste you.” He drop
ped to his knees and placed a hot, wet kiss on her abdomen and then licked his way to her bellybutton.

  Tellhimstop! Tellhimstop!

  His tongue dipped and swirled into the indent.

  Ridley gripped the back of EJ’s head. Thoughts of stopping him fled as his mouth moved south following the trail of exposed flesh his hand kept revealing.

  A flashlight sliced through the night. “Whoever is out there? Let’s go. The Christmas festival is over, and the school is closed.”

  The security guard’s voice was a douse of cold water to her fevered blood. She ripped out of EJ’s arms and yanked her pants up. The loss of his mouth on her body left an unbearable ache. She stumbled away.

  “Don’t,” EJ said coming to his feet.

  She could’ve asked him, ‘don’t what?’ but she knew what the ‘don’t’ was about. She leaped away from him and the shelter of the tree house. And into the beam of the flashlight. EJ followed her. The light haloed around him, making him seem larger than life. An illusion that was much too real.

  “Don’t,” he said again and stretched his palm out. “Let me help.”

  A seductive offer. One she couldn’t accept, no matter how desperately she wanted him. No one could help her. Especially not EJ Nicolis. His phone rang. He didn’t make a move to retrieve it. His gaze never strayed from her face. Good, he couldn’t see her knocking knees and trembling hands. She had to go right now before lust robbed her of her will and she chose him.

  “Sorry,” was a whisper snatched away by the wind. And so was she.

  Ridley kicked into overdrive, her feet a blur, her heart a leaden ball as she zoomed away.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Hovering on the rooftop of a house directly across the street from Emeline’s childhood home, Avery didn’t take his eyes off the silhouette passing in front of the bedroom window. She was in there, alone with the ghost of her grandfather. Alone with her anger and hatred. Did they give her comfort? Keep her warm during this frigid December night? Doubtful since she prowled her bedroom at two a.m.

  Three damn days and not a word. Never had he been so easily dismissed. No regret. No remorse while, with every breath, the memory of her scent teased him. Every thought ended with her sultry smile. He searched for the dulcet tones of her voice in every sound. Even when he closed his eyes all he could see was her caramel skin and dangerous curves.

  Hunger drove him to this favorite perch, the one he frequented when he stalked her last summer. He shouldn’t be here. Honoring her decision and the memories were all he had left. Yet he wasn’t able to withstand the urge to come to her home.

  The light in the upstairs bathroom flicked on. All of him tensed as a shadow moved past the frosted window. Too bad Neanderthal tactics went out of fashion. The need to barge into her house and drag her away rode him hard. His bands writhed in anticipation of the act. Every day he battled to keep the vast well of chaos dwelling within his soul under control. Emeline was a balm. A few days without her and…

  Avery morphed into a dark mist. He ghosted across the street and coalesced on her doorstep. His reflection showed in the glass insert beside the front door. A hard face incapable of smiling. Coal black, dead eyes.

  Monster.

  Emeline deserved better. The thought of another man touching her made him psychotic. Lord help the unfortunate man because he would die in bloody chunks. Avery leaned against the door, forehead against the cool wood. The toxic emotion replaced the blood coursing through his veins, reining it in was not an option. But he had to.

  Two sets of footsteps echoed down the street. Avery waited for them to halt at the bottom of Emeline’s stairs. “What?”

  Roman and Reign stood on the sidewalk, both stoic with empty hands.

  “We need your help,” Roman said.

  Avery’s gut knotted, and he gave them his full attention. “Is it EJ?”

  Roman shook his head.

  “Brayden? Is he awake?” Hathor had delivered Brayden to his bedroom, alive. Days later, he still had not awakened. Reign had lain his healing hands on the man and still nothing.

  Roman shook his head. “He continues to sleep. We need your help with something else.”

  “Not now.” He had to see Emeline. Talk to. Reason with. Touch. Breathe her in or he was going to lose his fucking mind.

  “If you come, you may get to kill something,” Roman added.

  That got his attention. He didn’t have anything better to do on Christmas Eve. But—he glanced at the home behind him.

  “Sometimes the best thing to do is to walk away. Give her time to calm down,” Roman explained while Reign stood silent.

  Not what Avery wanted to do. “Is that what you did with Stella? Back off?”

  Roman chuckled, rubbed his five o’clock shadow, and had the decency to give Avery a sheepish glance. “…No. I went to Alexis’s home prepared to drag Stella out of there for her own good. The only reason it worked was because she was ready to go.”

  Reign laughed. “And Alamut was chasing both of you.”

  Roman shoved Reign into the garbage cans stacked neatly on the sidewalk, then turned back to Avery. “Going in there pissed the fuck off will not get you your woman back. So come with us, kill a few things that need killing, then maybe you’ll be calm enough to come back and talk reasonably with Emeline.”

  Killing something sounded like an epic idea. He wouldn’t give Roman credit. “Coddling, Roman? I’m not an eight-year-old girl.”

  “We’re hunting demi-gods. Last offer.” Was Roman’s reply.

  “And if that does not prove fortuitous, we hunt Alamut as always.” Reign freed himself from the trashcans.

  He was one second away from refusing the handholding pity party when the porch light flicked on. Bravado fled. “I’m in,” he said.

  Roman opened a vortex. Both men stepped through. Avery lingered a second longer and caught Emeline’s voice asking ‘Who’s there?’ Regret sliced him as he stepped into the portal and was spirited away.

  ~~~~~~~

  “Where is Frederick?”

  “Why is he not here?”

  “It’s Christmas Eve—”

  “You’re the descendant of a pagan God, and you celebrate Christmas?”

  “My spouse is Christian.”

  Shadowed high in the rafters of Frederick’s club, Daniel leashed his budding hatred as he listened to his lessers bicker. Ingrit, a descendant of the Valkyries, Lionel, a descendant of Bacchus, the Roman God of Wine. Cyrus, a very distant descendant of Zeus. A Pict named Varney and his wife Morgane, all minor deities had gathered at Frederick’s command.

  This plan of Frederick’s—Daniel grimaced at his dismal prospects—it had better work because my time is running short. Twice in the past week, he had been summoned to the Egyptian realm. A god demanded his presence. SET or Anubis. He had no delusions; either one could end him.

  The first Summoning had been a weak pull on Daniel’s soul, which he easily ignored. He had no intention of returning to Chemmis, ever. The second Summoning was a harsh yank that left him staggering in front of Naomi and his growing army on the astral plane where he secreted his hybrids. He fought the effect only to have a vortex open and threaten to suck him inside. Facing transportation to some unknown place at the mercy of Anubis—or worse, SET—Daniel did the only thing he could. He transformed into Alamut and tossed a few members of his army into the vortex with orders to kill the first thing they saw.

  The vortex snapped closed the moment the three entered, leaving him with no answers.

  Better them than me facing a pissed off god.

  But why didn’t Anubis come to this realm? He’d done it before, so why not now? Even though he couldn’t stay without a host, visiting should be a breeze for the powerful spawn of SET and Nephythys. Something fundamental must have changed for Anubis to be so limited.

  Alamut left the astral plane with half of his army, recruitment foremost on his mind. Vengeance second. He needed more members, more quimaera.
Unfortunately, the Harvester made the decision on whose soul it would take. Only the most polluted were Harvested.

  Revenge, that’s why Daniel was shrouded in darkness and spying while waiting for his partner to make his entrance.

  Frederick sauntered into the room, dressed in a full-length mink coat, slacks, silk shirt, and loafers, ready for a day in the office. Whether it was his dapper attire or casual greeting, the four men and one woman went silent.

  “You’ve healed well,” Lionel griped and scratched at the purple bruise on his jaw.

  “I thank my ancestor for that gift, Lionel.” Frederick took the stage and draped the mink around him as he sat on a stool on the edge of the stage. A spotlight flickered on, illuminating his bronze skin.

  “Why are we here, Frederick?” Ingrit, the Valkyrie asked.

  Frederick adjusted in his seat. “I see some of you are still recovering from our latest adventure. The Egyptians, who would have thought they would rebound so well?”

  “My ancestor defeated their pantheon and cast them to an outer realm along with their descendants,” Lionel bragged and sipped from a goblet.

  “And that worked so well that just two of them kicked our asses,” Morgane said. On her arm, the blue tattoos of the Picts glimmered.

  “True, Morgane. That’s why I’ve asked all of you to be present tonight. As leaders of our earthbound pantheons, we have a decision to make.” Frederick paused to bait his audience.

  “Stop masturbating Freddy and get to the point.” Ingrit flicked a lock of blond hair over her bare shoulder.

  In so many ways she reminded him of is lovely Naomi. She’d had as much fire as Ingrit until the Harvester sucked the life out of the woman. The men snickered and Daniel joined them. The descendant of Freya had spirit.

  Frederick’s eyes narrowed at the beauty. “We, descendants of the Gods, have had an accord with each other for centuries. We’ve lived amongst ourselves and the rest of the world in harmony. The Egyptians ended that peace. Once again, they seek to conquer. It is up to us to put them back in their place.”

  Murmurs of agreement filtered to Daniel.