Evermore (Descendants of Ra: Book 3) Page 4

  Though he healed faster than the average human, he wasn’t immortal. He couldn’t take a bullet to the heart like Roman and pop up refreshed and ready to die again for another cause du jour. You can’t stop the first function programmed into your brain, though he tried. His lungs quivered, then rumbled, and spasmed.

  His feet touched the bottom and he pushed off, hard. His hands and legs coordinated to get him to the surface and fresh air, even though his limbs were turning into lead. Instinct overrode his will and Avery sucked in the brackish water. He choked, but he didn’t flail. He was too well-trained.

  A face came into view. No, more like an alabaster mask bobbed toward him. Ember?

  Was he too late? Two deaths in one night? He couldn’t return to the house with this news. The numbness faded from his limbs and he kicked toward the child. Arms and legs propelled him forward and he closed the distance between them.

  The face shifted. Glowing, greenish eyes bore into him. It wasn’t Ember.

  It was a woman. Part of the murkiness, yet distinctly separate, she moved against the flowing water. Her darkness was deeper, denser, living in a way other than the water surrounding her. Her body churned like ink trapped in a whirlpool while her alabaster face twisted with an unspoken hunger. Noctilucent threads unfurled from her body as black silky ribbons swaying in the water.

  This had to be a dream. He’d believe nothing else.

  Avery blinked and she was on him, wrapping her tendrils around him, and strapping his arms to his sides. A straitjacket gave more comfort. He had no leverage to rip her from his body. He sank and she followed him into the depths. Once again, his muscles jellied and his mind turned muddy, confused. Was this the second time this had happened, or the third? His thoughts were too scrambled to remember.

  She placed her white lips upon his and kissed him.

  I am Khuket, Goddess of Chaos, your new master.

  The words seeped into his mouth, filled his brain, and drowned him more than the water ever could.

  Give me.

  She dived into his core, ripped the confines shielding what he’d buried long ago, and took from him what he thought no one could ever take: the anger, the hate, and the shame he had buried so long ago. She cracked open the vault that held his private chaos and dined. A roar shot from within him and slammed into the creature

  The Phantom vanished in the murky water. Abhorring a void, the lake rushed into his mouth and filled his lungs, leaving him to continue his journey to the bottom. It wouldn’t be so bad to let go.

  Truth is he ran out of excuses the second EJ was able to take care of himself. He was so proud of his brother when he came home from his first mission. And sad. He didn’t search for a reason to go on; he didn’t want one. He still ate, drank, occasionally screwed when he found a woman who didn’t stare at his scars with complete disgust.

  He did everything to function as the laws of nature demanded, but without an ounce of passion. Existing, not living. Dying right now…how bad would it be?

  A hand grabbed Avery’s collar and dragged him upwards. He broke the surface spewing water from his desperate lungs as he was dragged towards the shore. His feet brushed the pebbled bottom of the lake. Avery pushed away from his brother and staggered up the bank. He collapsed next to the small sailboat and didn’t care that EJ and Quin stood over him with their questioning stares.

  “You okay?” EJ asked.

  Avery didn’t answer because he sensed nothing would ever be okay again. He pressed a hand against his aching temple.

  “Did you hit your head when you fell in?” Quin asked.

  “Yeah,” Avery said. A lie was better than the dual truths. Something had attacked him, almost killed him. Or he’d imagined the whole thing and had a secret death wish. Neither was some he wanted to share.

  “He may have a concussion,” Quin said.

  “…Nah. His head’s too thick for that.” EJ replied.

  “Neither of you two went to medical school so shut the fuck up,” Avery groaned.

  “See, he’s fine.” EJ propped himself against the boat. “I think Ember may be at the Judge’s.”

  Too tired to point out he’d already come to that conclusion, Avery grunted his agreement.

  “You coming? Or should I send for a pillow and blanket?” EJ stretched out his hand. Avery ignored it and rolled to his feet.

  Though shaky, he took the lead and stalked into the woods. The three of them broke through the tree line in time to see an ambulance drive away from the cabin.

  Judge Mitchell Nicolis Grayfield waited on the porch seated in his electric wheelchair. First the quimaera, then Roman and Reign, now the Judge. What else could happen tonight?

  ***

  Khuket floated above the lake and watched Avery Nicolis crawl from the water. Her prey was a fine specimen of male virility. Well over six feet tall, muscles bulged beneath his tattooed skin which added to his tasty aura. He wasn’t the biggest of the bunch, but the bleak fury polluting his soul leeched from him in delightful waves.

  Fortune favored her when she had stumbled upon his aura during the disastrous brawl at RedZone. She went there to capture Reign for SET, the God of All Evil. Instead, she found Avery. His discovery redeemed her failure.

  When she’d wrapped him in a tight embrace, potent, heady energy flowed into her. A floodgate of deliciousness surged through her weakened form, strengthening her. His sweetness filled her in ways she had never experienced. The undying hunger that limited her power and fixed her to a point she couldn’t surpass would end with him. Avery would sustain her. All she needed was for him to be willing.

  He puzzled her, though. She had sunk into his skin and muscle, bone and marrow, and burrowed into his soul. She expected a barrier, thick walls to keep the chaos separate from the mental processes which kept him functioning. Instead, his core was open and accessible. Black tight weaves, similar to her pattern, had spun in a systematic fashion. No malevolence. No anarchy had thrashed about, searching for a way to be free. Churning, uninterrupted in taut, orderly bands, no human could affect such control over the most basic of impulses. What was he? How was that possible from a being so perfect for her needs to be in complete control of such sweet chaos?

  And his strength. A blast had come from his core and shot her out of the water. Oh, his power was more potent than she ever expected. She wanted him, worse—she needed him. Only he could nourish her. His chaos would keep her alive to exact her revenge on the Egyptians.

  I will have him. Every inch of him will be my slave.

  A brief flash of darkness singed her senses. Alamut! If she hurried, she could locate him. But the child, the host of her greatest enemy. Now would be the perfect time to exact her revenge. Kill the child, kill the Goddess. Khuket was too weak before. After feeding on Avery, strength flowed through her, but not enough to destroy two adversaries. The battle with the child and Nu would have to wait until Khuket secured her army. And so would her new pet.

  She glanced at Avery as he disappeared into the tree line. “Enjoy your moment of freedom. It will be your last.”

  Khuket caught a breeze and darted away.

  Chapter Five

  Emeline hated ambulances. The noise of the siren, the cramped interior, and the desperate efforts of the EMTs to save a patient; all the medical dramas she’d watched didn’t prepare a person for the real thing. Everything was so much better on television. Real life sucked.

  “Is he going to be okay?” she asked for the third time only to be ignored. Though this time she wasn’t quite sure if she’d actually said the words aloud. Air rattled in Grand’s chest. Pneumonia again, maybe a collapsed lung; his labored breathing could be either. A bruise colored his forehead. She gritted her teeth against her own pain to keep from exploding. For every one of Grand’s injuries, Ridley would pay with blood.

  Emergency vehicles had arrived five minutes after Ridley had left. Grand, unconscious on the living room floor with her curled beside him: that’s how the police
found them when they entered through the unlocked kitchen door.

  “An intruder broke in, one guy wearing a mask. Couldn’t tell his color or ethnicity. He beat me up. I screamed. He ran.”

  They kept asking questions, she stuck to her answers. She hoped the police bought it because that’s all they were getting. When they loaded Grand into the ambulance, she ignored the EMTs’ protests and climbed inside.

  “He’s the only thing I have left of my parents, don’t make me leave him, please.” She didn’t have to manufacture the tears; they came naturally. They had wanted to examine her. An examination could wait until the hospital. She needed to be with her grandfather.

  The ambulance hit a pothole, jostling her. Grand moaned and his eyes fluttered. She stroked his arm and clutched his fingers. “Grand? It’s Eme.” She wanted to apologize, but wouldn’t give the EMTs something to report to the police following them to the hospital.

  “You’re gonna be okay,” Emeline told him because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  His eyes opened and his watery gaze focused on her face. A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth beneath the oxygen mask. He pulled at the mask. “I want to go back home.” His thready voice drifted at the end.

  Emeline moved his hand before the technician touched him. “I know. They’re going to check you out and then you will be back home. I promise.”

  They’d had this conversation before. He didn’t want to die in a hospital. Emeline gave him her word he wouldn’t. When the end came, he would be in his recliner, feet up, with the TV on AMC.

  Faded hazel eyes, so much like her own, held her captive and demanded the truth. She nodded and managed a bright smile. The tension eased from his features and his body sagged on the stretcher. His complete faith in her abilities weighed on her shoulders. Not good when you’re standing in quicksand. Grand thought she could do anything, while she knew her limitations. And with Ridley’s foot on her neck, those constraints kept growing.

  Hours later in the emergency room, she lay on a stretcher, one curtain away from Grand. They’d x-rayed her chest, then tapped her ribs and gave her a prescription for pain meds. She needed them. They were keeping her grandfather for an MRI and observation.

  “Can’t be too safe with a patient this old,” his doctor informed her.

  “Thanks for taking care of him.” Staying in the hospital and out of the line of fire was exactly where she needed Grand to be.

  She pulled back the curtain and peeked inside. Grand snored. An IV pump hummed, a heart monitor beeped, and a Foley bag hung at the end of the stretcher. She could imagine his fury when he awoke. At least he’d be safe.

  “Give ‘em hell, Grand.”

  She kissed his cheek and left the room. Code blue room nine sounded overhead and staff rushed by. In the maze of rooms and curtained bays, Emeline had no idea where to exit.

  She heard a nurse directing family members to exit through the Pediatric ER. Emeline joined the crowd. Lost in her private hell, she shuffled along. All of her options circled her brain; none led to a doable conclusion. Trapped didn’t feel like a rock and a hard place, it felt like hell. Air fought its way out of her lungs and she inhaled a harsh breath. Lemony disinfectant clashed with the waxed linoleum and the subtle hint of stale piss.

  Her stomach heaved, but there was nothing in it to expel. Frantic for a breath of unfiltered air, she searched for an exit, but her head decided to join the party with a swim session. The room dipped and she stumbled into a wall, grateful she hadn’t landed on her ass.

  Except—her wall moved. A hand touched her lower back, steadying her.

  “Excuse me.” Mortified, she jerked away and glanced up. And up. Past a massive chest covered in a black sweater. Past the linebacker shoulders. Past a thick neck corded with muscles to a face, she knew all too well.

  Her breath seized in her lungs as she forgot to breathe and her mind blanked. Yet one thought managed to circle her sputtering brain.

  Ridley hadn’t lied.

  ***

  A bull in a china shop appropriately described Avery as he leaned against a wall in the Pediatric Emergency Department. EJ and Quin had opted to stay with Ember, leaving him as the only giant in the waiting room. Two little boys gawked and pointed while their parents tried to stop them. A security guard eyed him, issued an unspoken challenge. If he had a sense of humor, he’d laugh, but he was too weary. The smirk on his face would have to be enough.

  Stella raced through the entrance, her white coat flapping open, and stopped at the information desk with Thane by her side. A clerk pointed her in their direction. She glanced his way and rushed over.

  “Is she all right?” Stella stopped in front of him.

  Avery stared into her gray eyes and nearly choked on the pain swimming in their depths. “I don’t know. The doctor hasn’t spoken to any of us yet.”

  She nodded and her gaze wandered around the room and finally came back to him. “Thank you for finding her.” Her arms circled him, tentative with their embrace. Tremors wracked her slender frame, but she managed a hug, while he gave her back an awkward pat.

  How do you comfort someone when their grief is so raw, the wound to their heart so new that you bleed with them? Reign would pay with his head on a shelf and his guts in a bowl. Pain sparked in Avery’s damaged muscles. The throbbing kind you couldn’t ignore, yet mustered the energy to do so, even as that crawling sensation returned.

  Stella sniffled and didn’t meet his gaze when she pulled away. She moved toward the staff member waiting to lead her through the security door to Ember.

  Avery scrubbed a hand down his face. He needed air, lots of it. He had pivoted toward the exit when an automatic door in the corner of the room swung open. Though he didn’t know why, he stopped and waited for the door to slide open. Staff stepped out. He turned away, but out the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a riot of jet-black corkscrew curls and a face he had denied himself the pleasure of seeing.

  Emeline Gamble stepped into view.

  He froze, blinking hard because he didn’t trust his weary mind. Then his eyes drank in her heart-shaped face. Dark smudges stained the caramel skin under her almond eyes. Combined with her slumped shoulders and tight features, they told a story he wanted to know.

  She paused and shrugged into a short leather jacket which accentuated her long legs and dangerous curves. He hadn’t realized he trailed her until she staggered. He caught her and she leaned on him. Her softness sunk into his body, causing an instant hardening of every single muscle. He’d never been this close. He sucked in a sharp breath, which filled his lungs with the scent of a desert rose. He leaned closer, practically buried his nose in her curls, and inhaled.

  His mouth watered.

  Must be some type of lotion or perfume.

  She said something, but lost in the ecstasy of touching what he long desired, he hadn’t heard a word.

  “What did you say?” His voice sounded harsh to his ears.

  She turned. Her eyes widened, took on a hunted wariness, and she jerked out of his arms. “S-sorry.”

  Her voice held a note of fear. And her body, tense muscles, feet braced apart, shoulders back said she was prepared to defend. The question being, against what?

  Avery took a micro-scan of the waiting room. Other than her and him, nothing seemed out of place. Patients groaned, waiting their turn. Machines beeped. The drone of a twenty-four-hour network news channel added to the ambient noise and drowned out real conversation. Though there were only a few voices because they were now the center of attention.

  What was she doing here?

  He remembered her grandfather. Had time caught up with the old man? He opened his mouth to ask—not that he had a right to—and caught himself. He needn’t have worried because Emeline had pivoted and hustled to the door, her heels doing rapid fire on the linoleum. Everything in him ordered him not to follow. His feet didn’t listen.

  The sliding doors parted just in time for her to breez
e through and cold air to rush inside the building. She paused while the wind tossed her hair about and her breath curled, then her spine seemed to stiffen and her shoulders squared. A cab rolled to a stop at the curb. She opened the door and glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes, they captured him, slid beneath his skin, and caressed him.

  No, that was his imagination. She didn’t know him. He was a stranger she’d bumped into. But he knew her. Not intimately, though he couldn’t deny the thickening of his blood.

  Emeline disappeared inside the cab. For a final glimpse of her, Avery stepped outside. The cab rolled forward; another inch and he wouldn’t be able to see her. Suddenly, her face appeared in the rear window, somber and drawn. Her eyes unblinking, she studied him as if she knew him. Which wasn’t possible…was it?

  Chapter Six

  Child! What have you done?

  Ember recognized the voice of Nu, the goddess who had haunted her since her first thoughts fermented in her mother’s womb. Immediately, she shut her mind down and withdrew to her secret place, the playroom at a daycare she used to attend. Once, she saw a picture of a dome covering a town on the cover of a book. She projected that image around her and the colorful playroom in her mind.

  Child, I tire of the game you play. You are not the invalid you pretend to be. You willfully keep yourself from me, preferring to wither rather than thrive. Explain.

  She wouldn’t explain anything to the enemy who took her hostage. Her body, which lay in a bed, the Goddess could have, but not her mind.

  Ember. I am not your enemy.

  She was her enemy. She took her body, hijacked her will, and made her a slave. Ember hadn’t succeeded in ending her life in the lake. This time she was determined nothing would cause her to fail. She wouldn’t let Nu, the mother of the Egyptian pantheon, to enter her private domain.

  “Go away!”