Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Page 19

  Reign clenched his fist. “Speak or your days in the arena end tonight.”

  Crogan shrugged. “Frederick is forming a new Divine Council.”

  “What the hell is that?” EJ’s gaze ping-ponged between Crogan to Roman.

  Crogan sighed patiently. “Long ago, in a land far, far away—Italy—there was a Divine Council. Each pantheon sent a representative to keep the peace. It didn’t work. You see, none of the pantheons got along with each other. Three thousand years ago, there was a slaughter. “We,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, then fanned it around the room, “slaughtered each other. We, the children of the gods, decimated our ranks. It has taken all this time to regain the population once more. You’d think we would’ve learned something, but no, history repeats itself.”

  “Right now, Frederick is getting all his ducks in a row to be the new leader of the Divine Council. You two wonder twins kicked his ass the other day. Guess who he will be coming after first? With all the other pantheons taken along for the show.”

  “We defeated him once. We will again,” Reign said arrogantly.

  Crogan chuckled. “Yeah. I had a live feed to that ass kicking. You two did good. Didn’t even break a sweat against the C-team.”

  The last sentence sunk into everybody’s brain. A slow hiss left Avery. From his waist down, writhing bands replaced his legs.

  Eyes wide, filled with speculation, Crogan leaned toward Avery. “I know the history of the Nicolis clan. Their lineage and such. The last time I checked, you weren’t this—” He gestured toward Avery’s transformation. “What are you?”

  “And what pantheon do you lay claim to?” Avery answered Crogan’s question with his own.

  “Fair enough.” Crogan leaned back. “We all have our secrets.”

  “How much time do we have?” Roman still hadn’t moved a muscle. He gave nothing away.

  “A month, maybe more. Frederick must travel to each city and negotiate. He has to gather a quorum of at least three factions. Nothing will happen until then.”

  Roman stood signaling the end of the confab. “Thank you for the information. What do I owe you?” I, not we, as usual, Roman shouldered the responsibility for them all.

  “Nothing…for now. I’ll note this conversation in my ledger under ‘To be collected at a later date.’ ”

  In other words, ‘you owe me indefinitely’. EJ also wondered if it would come with interest.

  The four of them strode from the room.

  “The place has a dampening spell. Once we get outside, we leave for RockGate,” Roman said.

  Music still blasted. The crowd gyrated. Something was different, off-kilter in a way EJ couldn’t explain. He slowed, and Avery braked with him. They glanced at each other, and no words needed to be exchanged. Despite being in a room full of humans and demi-gods, something hunted them.

  A tremor snaked through EJ. It started in his gut and worked its way outward. What. The. F—

  “You feel that?” Avery asked.

  EJ nodded. A high-pitched whistle sounded above the music. It whipped both of them around. Roman and Reign were yards away, a crowd separating the two groups. Roman pointed to the exit.

  “We have to get away from the crowd. Don’t want anyone hurt.” Avery weaved between the bodies, moving fast for the exit.

  EJ didn’t know what the rush was about. So what if a few gods got hurt. They were immortal. They’d bounce back. Another tremor ran through him. The sensation rolled through his gut and left him locking his knees to keep from landing on his ass.

  A hand grabbed his arm and jerked him around. “Snap the fuck out of it.” Avery hissed, his grill front and center. “What’s wrong with you?” He gripped the back of EJ’s neck and stared into his eyes.

  “Wide World of Weird,” EJ muttered and rubbed the center of his aching stomach. He hadn’t been right since he touched the Harvester. Off-kilter somehow, though he couldn’t quite name the issue.

  “Are you on something? Your pupils are blown.” Avery squeezed EJ’s neck, his face twisted in anger.

  EJ knocked his hand away. “You know I don’t do that shit.” It pissed him off Avery would even think that crap. “I saw something strange.”

  Avery cocked an eyebrow. “Stranger than normal?”

  “Definitely. Let’s get out of here.” EJ led the way with Avery bringing up the rear. They joined Roman and Reign near the entryway, and then the four of them exited the club.

  Roman extended his palm to open a vortex. Nothing happened. “We’re still being blocked.”

  “I cannot flash either,” Reign said.

  “My bike is over there. You three arrived together?” EJ asked and received a nod from each man.

  “I sense we are under observation,” Reign growled.

  “Where?” Avery asked, but Roman already faced in the same direction as his twin, toward a thick copse of evergreens. More discussion wasn’t necessary; they headed that way. Within a foot, they passed through the protective barrier shielding the club. Cold silence and the scent of sulfur greeted them.

  No commentary, just steady movement forward. EJ drew his guns while Roman’s and Reign’s weapons appeared in their hands, glowing white blade for Roman, and a jagged piece of midnight for Reign. Avery didn’t need a weapon. The new God of Chaos was a weapon.

  They entered the trees and separated, each weaving through the trunks in a different direction, a move practiced many times by the group. Reign crept off to the right. Strange how he fit in without hesitation as if he’d always been in the mix of the Nicolis family and had not arrived on the scene a few weeks ago. Must be a twin thing.

  EJ took a more direct path. He moved straight through the trees, aware of the wind blowing from the East, the crunch of dry grass off to his left, the soft footfall of Reign to his right, and Avery bringing up the rear. All of the Nicolis men were present and accounted for. He sensed nothing else, yet…the wind shifted. Now it came from the north and carried that sulfuric smell. Another moment and EJ stood in a small clearing. The charred remains of a tree smoldered. Roman, Reign, and Avery gathered close.

  Roman dropped to his haunches and gathered a handful of ash. “This was recent.”

  “Why burn a single tree?” Avery asked.

  “A message.” EJ thought about the form he’d seen in the club.

  “Someone wants us to know they were here.” Roman stood and dusted off his hands.

  “A new enemy,” Reign stated, not questioned.

  “The list keeps growing.” Roman opened a vortex, and they stepped out of the city and into his study in RockGate. He shrugged off his leather coat and sat in his chair. Without a word, he opened his laptop.

  “Crogan could be behind the burning. We should kill him. Then you won’t owe him a damn thing.” Avery threw himself into the nearest chair.

  EJ didn’t think so, but kept his thoughts to himself.

  “Don’t be fooled by his easy demeanor. That man is old, older than either of us,” Reign said as he peered over Roman’s shoulder at the computer screen. “Brother? Explain yourself.”

  “Yeah. What are we going to do?” EJ jumped up and paced, his fists clenching and unclenching.

  “We’re going to gather forces,” Roman said without glancing away from his laptop.

  “What forces? There’s eight of us. One is upstairs having a marathon nap. The other is fucking missing.” Avery scowled.

  “There are more of us, aren’t there?” The light bulb finally went off in EJ’s head. “There have to be. Nu wasn’t the only god out screwing the locals.”

  Reign went ramrod stiff. “Careful with your tongue if you desire to keep it.”

  Oops. Poor choice of words. “Sorry, but I’m right, right?”

  Roman nodded.

  Avery sat, shaking his head. “Why aren’t they here?”

  “They weren’t orphans, Avery. I couldn’t take them. They had…have families, the potential for normal futures ahead of them. Also, some want
ed nothing to do with me, like the Judge. He relented only after he fathered Jackson and took ill soon after his birth. I respected the right of our fellow descendants to live their lives the way they chose to.”

  “And now, Brother?” Reign cocked his head to the side.

  “Now, all bets are off.”

  “RockGate is ground zero. We should evacuate. But to where?” Avery whispered.

  “The Egyptian realm. The home our mother provided.” Reign folded his arms.

  Roman nodded. “We can send the women, Stella, Alexis, and Ember.” Roman tipped his head toward Avery. “And Emeline.”

  Avery glowered at some distant point out of the nearest window. Then his chin dropped to his chest, and he sighed. “We are not exactly speaking right now.”

  Awkward, silent moment, since all of them had been in similar situations. Except for EJ. Then again, Ridley had run off without him…twice now.

  “Do you love her?” Roman leaned back in his chair.

  “Yeah.” Avery’s voice was small, like a wounded child’s.

  “Then fix it,” Roman said.

  Avery turned back to the window. “You think I haven’t tried? Some things may not be fixable.”

  “Then sever all ties. To do less only places her in danger.”

  “You say that like it’s easy. Could you do that for Stella or Alexis?” Avery nailed both men with a bitter glare.

  In unison, they said, “Yes.”

  “—To save Stella—”

  “—Alexis, we would.”

  Tension thickened the air.

  EJ thought of Ridley. Could he let her go to protect her from danger? It would bite, like sucking dirt through a straw and into his lungs, but yeah, he would do it. Only one problem. She wasn’t his. Right now, she was out there on her own. And he was here.

  Roman turned to EJ. “Get Thane and Quin. We need to bring them up to date.”

  The order rankled. EJ headed to the exit. “You got two other lackeys here. I got shit to do.” Like find his female so he could protect her.

  EJ stormed through the house. He had no idea where she’d hide, where she’d seek refuge. Did she have any friends? He was certain the answer was no. Ridley wasn’t the type to seek the comfort of female companionship, and any male friends would climb into her pants at the first opportunity. He growled at the thought and immediately gave himself a mental slap. She wasn’t his, regardless of how much he wanted her.

  He texted Quin, asking him to retrieve his bike at the club, then pressed the garage door opener and watched the door lift. Brayden stood at the edge of the open garage, staring into the night, ass out in a hospital johnny.

  “Yo!” EJ rushed to Brayden’s side and drew him into a tight hug. “’Bout time you woke up.”

  Stiff as a board, face vacant, Brayden gave no response to EJ…yet his lips moved, and the barest whisper could be heard. Pasty and smelly, but he was upright.

  “B-buddy, you all right?” EJ gave him a gentle shake.

  Slowly, Brayden blinked, and his eyes focused on EJ. “Hey.”

  “Yeah, hey. You okay?”

  “Tired…so tired. Gotta find Tyrone. Gotta get the voices outta my head.”

  “Cool. Let’s get you back inside first.” EJ turned Brayden around, and there was Hector, frantic until he spotted them.

  “Oh, thank heavens!” He rushed over.

  EJ handed Brayden over to Hector’s care and grabbed the keys for the Range Rover. The roar of the engine vibrated through his body, made his blood hum. Right now, finding Ridley was his priority. She needed him, whether she liked it or not.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ridley crouched behind a naked hedge and surveyed the two-story house in Long Island. She wasn’t breaking the rules. This visit was a part of the agreement between her and Marilyn. Ridley provided the home and all the financial stability Marilyn and Josie needed in exchange for brief glimpses of her daughter on her birthdays and at Christmas.

  At age two, Josie was such a perceptive child. She clung to Ridley more than Marilyn and wailed at the end of every play date when Ridley had to leave. “It’s not healthy to confuse the child,” was the reasoning Marilyn used to end the visitations. Last year, Josie opened presents and played as a cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace. Ridley hid outside, peering into the window, stealing treasured glimpses of her daughter.

  She watched her child have the life she couldn’t give her and was grateful Marilyn allowed her that snippet of Josie.

  It made sense…was completely logical. Tell that to Ridley’s broken heart as she inhaled Josie’s Baby Magic scent for the last time. Now, these clandestine visits were all she looked forward to. This was better than waiting for Daniel to crawl out of his hiding place. Days of waiting and frustration were all she had to show for it.

  She zoomed across the backyard and pressed herself between the cold stone façade of the house and a pair of bushes guarding the family room window. Breathless with anticipation, she rose halfway and peeked into the large bay window, expecting a holiday scene out of a Thomas Kinkade painting except the room was—

  Noooo! Marilyn wouldn’t have—she wouldn’t!

  Ridley marched to the sliding glass door and lifted her foot to kick her way inside. The security bar wasn’t deployed. She gripped the handle and yanked.

  The door glided open with a whisper and Ridley stepped inside. Stripped of every piece of furniture, pictures, and knick-knacks—the only thing not taken was the dusty ceiling fan. The house was hollow. No presents. No decorated tree. No cinnamon buns, hazelnut coffee, and bacon scents warming the home.

  Her heart squeezed, while her breath curled in the frigid air. Ridley swept her hand over the bare surface of the mantle. Pictures of Josie had crammed every inch of the surface, mainly random, silly moments, those precious instances of childhood joy captured for posterity. Captured as proof that a childhood wasn’t so bad, regardless of what life tossed at you, once you were happy and therapy free.

  Where are they?

  The bare countertops had no answers. All the disastrous possibilities filled her head, made her heart fist so tight she couldn’t breathe as she faced the glaring reality.

  There was no abduction. No act of violence. This was a planned move.

  She whipped out her phone and dialed Marilyn.

  “The number you have reached is not in service at this time,” a computerized voice droned.

  Rage honed Ridley’s emotions and propelled her through the dining room. Teetering on the fine edge of destruction, she peered into the half bathroom and laundry room, her footsteps echoed on the concrete of the empty two-car garage. She smashed a fist into a utility cabinet, denting the metal.

  One foot in front of the other, she methodically climbed the staircase. Her heart no longer seeming to beat, now it was a lead ball dragging her forward. One thought circled her brain, Marilyn did this on purpose.

  Ridley pressed on. She paused at the top of the stairs, torn between running away or taking the short journey down the hallway and peering into the three open doors: The first two, Marilyn’s bedroom and a bathroom, the last, Josie’s bedroom.

  Ridley walked down the hall, passed by the spaces where Josie’s Christening and kindergarten pictures had hung. She didn’t glance into Marilyn’s bedroom or the bathroom yet felt the vacancy in her bones. Nothing prepared her for the moment she stepped into her daughter’s bedroom.

  The clean, new squares of flattened carpet gave evidence that once the room had been occupied. The placement of every item of furniture, she knew because she’d bought them. There was a white canopy bed with pink trim. Matching night tables and dresser completed the ensemble. Also, a cedar chest filled with toys had rested beneath a window.

  In her peripheral view, Josie’s empty closet was a dark cave. A few random hangers dangled like forgotten soldiers who’d missed the last transport out of the hot zone.

  Standing in the center of the room, Ridley took it all in as the e
arth moved beneath her feet. Bitter outrage vibrated through her and extended outward. The room shook in response.

  Then she saw the envelope on the window seat. Rage drained from her system. She stumbled to the seat and dumped herself onto the hard surface. In bold, black marker, her name was scrawled across the outside.

  Ridley ripped it open. A single picture floated out while a folded letter stayed wedged inside.

  Dressed in a black sweater with leopard trimmed fur, matching leopard print legging, and kiddie combat boots, Josie had one hand on her hip and her other holding a skull and crossbones purse Ridley had given Marilyn to give to Josie for her last birthday. Poised in front of a Christmas tree, the irritated smirk on her face summed up her opinion. Ridley drank in the image.

  Josie. Age eight, was written on the back.

  Ridley pulled the letter out. She didn’t want to read it, dreaded what it would say. Sticking her head in the sand—no, rather a vat of concrete until the world went away seemed like an epic idea. That had never been her way, and starting now wasn’t an option.

  I’m sorry Ridley,

  I know you’re asking why, why did I do this. Call me selfish, but in these last days of your life, I don’t trust you to stick to our bargain. I can’t risk my daughter’s wellbeing and remain in a place where you have easy access to her while you unravel. She doesn’t know you, and I won’t have you destroy the happy, healthy child we both love.

  Please know that Josie is safe and loved. She is my world and will have the life we both want for her.

  We’ve moved out of the state. Don’t waste your last days trying to find us because you won’t.

  I didn’t do this to hurt you, Ridley. Please believe me.

  Marilyn.

  The glue that had always held Ridley together shattered. She’d held it together until the undeniable truth couldn’t wait any longer. Now, the dam broke, and nothing could stop the pain.

  Josie!

  All she ever wanted was her baby, and Josie was the one thing she couldn’t have. A scream shredded her soul and tore from her throat. The house absorbed the sound and seemed to scream with her.