Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4) Read online

  Reign held up the roof. Roman shifted the shelving and rocks. The thin tendrils of chaos extended from his hand and brought the journal to him. Not impressive when it took three gods to retrieve one journal. Right now, their powers were better used as a scalpel, not a sledgehammer.

  He retrieved the journal and searched for the other objects, hoping they were here, too. After a few passes, there was no hope to be had. But all was not lost. Ridley took the Book of Eidos expecting to reap all of its secrets for her benefit. What would she do when she discovered the pages were blank?

  Predawn light filtered through the clouds when they emerged from the building. Snow drifted down around them and already covered the street. Roman checked his phone and turned to Avery and Reign. “I’m heading back to Egypt to continue searching for Brayden and Tyrone. I just got a text from Quin and Thane. They tried to locate a curator named William Chadwick and failed. They’ll continue to search, but believe Daniel’s gotten to him first. That bastard needs to die.” He said the last line more to himself than the people around him. “Reign, stay here and help out with the cleanup.”

  Reign surprised Avery by nodding at Roman’s orders. It was only a few months ago the men had tried to beat each other into submission.

  “Ma’am,” Roman addressed Mrs. Kelly, “With your permission, I’ll refer a trusted architect and contractor to discreetly take care of the cave in. Thane will handle the owner of this building. Will that be acceptable to you?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Kelly said. Seemed everyone knew how to handle the elderly woman except Avery. He was certain it had to do with him gaining Khuket’s power and leadership of the Order. Both were the last damn things he wanted, but he wouldn’t shirk the obligation. And he wouldn’t remove Mrs. Kelly from her position. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed the elderly woman. This matriarchal society wouldn’t take kindly to a leader with dangling gonads.

  Emeline sneezed and sniffled. She seemed to be the only one affected by the cold. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Tyrone and Brayden still haven’t checked in?”

  Roman shook his head. “It’s been months. They’ve done this before, though never this long. No details on what they were up to only that they were fine. I called his mother and went by her Harlem brownstone. No one was home.”

  “I suspect she hasn’t returned from Chemmis,” Reign said. “Time travels differently in the god realm. It is why Alexis and I rarely visit long.”

  “Whatever the reason, something’s going on with the three of them. And it’s time we find out what.” Roman thumped Avery on the shoulder then opened a vortex and stepped through.

  Reign waited until the bright light winked closed to say, “Mrs. Kelly, may I escort you back to the comforts of The Orders?” He presented his arm to her. She placed her hand on his elbow. “I bid you goodnight, Emeline, and Avery.” In a flash, they disappeared as the first rays of the morning pierced the cold night sky.

  Emeline sighed. “We have to find EJ and Ridley. I want that bitch dead.”

  Avery swung Emeline into his arms and kissed her hard. “First thing is to get you warm then we will find my brother and deal with Ridley. We will make her pay for all she’s done. That I promise you.”

  For the first time that night, Emeline didn’t argue with him.

  Chapter Ten

  Concern for EJ guided Ridley to forgo her usual precaution and head to the nearest safe house only five blocks away from The Order. Blood dripped from a gash to his forehead. Now he resembled an extra in a horror movie. His once steady, self-assured steps faltered as if his feet were encased in cement.

  The dark, deserted streets were the perfect combination to use her speed and get them to safety ASAP. She tucked the Book and the Scroll into the hidden pockets of her leather duster and took EJ’s hand. She’d only done this once with nauseating results. Tonight, Ridley didn’t have to worry about EJ spewing chunks since being in stasis removed all of the daily bodily functions. Except bleeding profusely.

  Ridley extended her gift around EJ and blurred through the distance to the safe house—or rather a one-bedroom apartment. Depending on the personal viewpoint, the beauty or tragedy of New York City was the ability to go from multimillion-dollar properties to low rent tenements with the turn of a few corners. This safe house happened to be closer to the former. She fished a huge key ring out of her coat pocket and quickly found the correct one with the address taped to the top. Thank God for good disaster preparation. Quickly, they sped through the quiet lobby to the staircase. Bumping into an early riser out for a morning jog would be bad. She peered into the empty fourth-floor hallway, then exited the staircase and zipped to the fifth apartment on the right.

  Two locks later, Ridley had both of them inside. She was certain they were alone; still, she absorbed the silence for a full minute, searching the shadows cast from a street lamp. Confident, she felt along the wall for the light switch. EJ grabbed her hand, stopping her progress. “Wha—” She was about to snatch her hand away when she remembered the directive she’d given him earlier.

  Tick-tick-tick.

  If EJ had been himself, would he have helped her? She shook her head, squelched the urge to laugh at her stupidity. No, he’d kill her twice on principle, no matter her reasoning. But for now, protecting her remained his priority.

  Not that she could tug away from his tight embrace. His large hand smothered hers with cold, strong fingers. A shiver ran through her and he pulled her along behind him as he peered into the kitchen, the living room, and bedroom. Their last destination was the bathroom. This time he didn’t stop her from flipping on the light and shoving him to sit on the closed toilet seat.

  She hoped Avery and the others were too busy with their injuries to come after them right away. Damn it, she didn’t have the journal. She wanted to go back for it, but she had to fix EJ first.

  Ridley scooted between his open legs to cup his face and tilted his chin up. The gash had healed and most likely his other injuries. That didn’t stop her from running her fingers through his short—surprisingly soft—buzz cut. Finding nothing, she continued her exploration. She shucked off his coat, let it thud to the bathroom floor. Guns dangled from holsters beneath both armpits and knives were secure in special pockets in his custom sweater.

  Almost of their own accord, her hands traveled over his impossibly broad shoulders, aware of the bunched muscles beneath. She leaned close to peer at his back, searching for telltale blood, and found none. His chest came next. Covered with soot and streaked with dirt and blood, she took her time skimming his hard pecs and tight abs through his sweater. Blood dotted his thighs. She suspected the splatter came from his brother and the healing wounds on EJ’s knuckles. Satisfied, Ridley balanced on her haunches and looked into EJ’s blank eyes.

  Sadness swallowed her. After such an intense experience, she needed someone to talk with. No, not someone. Him. She wanted to ask if he was okay, wanted to apologize for what she made him do, wanted a deeper connection than their one-way conversation. Wanted what she couldn’t have with a man who’d stumbled into her life and who would regret it the moment he was free. The path the gods had placed her on could not be altered. Even with the collateral damage, Josie came first.

  Ridley heaved a sigh and shifted her attention to the man in front of her. EJ was filthy. Funny how she hadn’t noticed or cared about him being dirty when she examined him for wounds. She retrieved a facial towel from a nearby closet, which also had a small washer/dryer combo, and wet it in the bathroom sink. The blood on his forehead hadn’t quite dried, so it cleaned away easily. Next came the soot on his lean cheek. She paused. Tracks lined both cheeks as if he had…cried?

  That wasn’t possible. EJ and the women of the Order were empty vessels. Khuket erased everything they were. That is what the goddess said.

  Whoa! Khuket’s dead.

  And Avery Nicolis is the new God of Chaos.

  HOLY SHIT!

  Her mind reeled. Right no
w, she couldn’t focus on that new development. Her plate runneth over. Not another morsel could fit.

  Heart thumping from a significant amount of fear, Ridley turned her attention back to EJ. She stared deep into his icy blue eyes, which somehow seemed colder, deader, a landscape devoid of life. She shook her head and sighed again. His condition wasn’t her fault.

  Admit it. It’s your fault. You sought out Khuket, brought her here, and let her loose on the world. Doing it for Josie’s sake doesn’t negate your actions. It’s. Your. Fault. Own it.

  “I’m sorry this has happened to you. That I happened to you.” The apology sucked dirt and was just as worthless, but it was all she had to offer. “And I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t think this would happen.”

  Knew it was a possibility, though.

  “Uggh!” She ran her fingers through her hair and gripped the short ends. Unable to stare into his frozen eyes anymore, her gaze dropped to the burgundy bath rug next to the tub. “You don’t understand—Josie...” The face of her daughter filled her mind, almost made it impossible to talk. “J-Josie, I have to protect her. I can’t leave her to the same fate my mother left me. I won’t do that to her.”

  Just thinking about her girl made her tears flow. With a firm hand, she dashed them away. “She deserves more.”

  She studied EJ’s placid face, silently begging for understanding only to receive none.

  “Get in the shower,” she said to him and didn’t think much of her statement until EJ pulled the curtain back and stepped fully clothed into the bathtub. “No! Ughh!”

  She’d forgotten she had to explain everything in minute detail. “I want you to strip everything off and toss them outside the shower. Then, you will turn on the water, adjust the warmth, and use the soap.” She pointed to the yellow bar in the soap dish and passed him a washcloth. “Wash everything.” She made a few circular motions over his chest and groin area. “Rinse off and turn the water off. I’ll go find you a towel.” Shoulders slumped in weary defeat, Ridley left him in the bathroom.

  She retrieved her precious cargo from the hidden pockets of her coat and hid the Book and Scroll in the back of the closet in the bedroom. Studying them right now would steal the rest of her flagging energy. And she still needed the journal. Her shoulders slumped more.

  She stripped off her favorite coat and checked for damage. Finding none, the corners of her mouth twitched with a smidgen of happiness. Her bleak existence receded a bit more when she retrieved a protein bar stashed in a side pocket. Moving as fast as she did burned a ton of calories. She ate as fast as she moved, no time to savor the raisin and nut combination.

  Next, she searched the closet and dresser. There was plenty of women’s clothing she could borrow, but nothing for EJ. Not even a robe that would fit his six foot six frame.

  Ridley stripped out of her dirty clothes and dumped everything in the washer. She covered herself with a cotton robe before returning to the bathroom to snatch his discarded clothes off the bathroom floor. The opaque shower curtain hid him from view. Not the sound of water hitting flesh.

  “I tried to find something for you to wear, but there’s nothing here. There’s a towel for you on top of the toilet. Wrap it around you and come out when you’re clean.”

  His clothes joined hers in the wash. Then she moved to the fireplace in the corner of the living room. Gas operated, she opened the vent and flipped it on. A cheery fire warmed the front of her. Basking in the heat, she tipped her head back and noticed the pictures lining the mantle.

  Ridley flipped the frame down. She had enough guilt and didn’t need to see the photos to add more of the toxic emotion.

  In the kitchen, she discovered a lonely bottle of scotch, which needed a friend. Good thing she had plenty of openings. She downed two shots in quick succession with no breath between the glasses. The third followed after the dull ache in her stomach subsided. With her superfast metabolism, it would take a lot more than three glasses of passable scotch to get her buzzed. But it was a start.

  She’d tipped the fifth down her throat when the bathroom door squealed. Waiting to swallow and then turn would’ve been the smart thing to do. However, no one had ever recruited her for her brilliance. An unexpected shiver snaked through her, which she squelched.

  He’s just a man with the same parts all men have. No big deal.

  Ridley turned and promptly wished she hadn’t.

  ~~~~~~~

  I’m not a fucking child! I know how to wash my own ass without blow-by-blow instruction. Yet, without her explicit instructions, he would’ve stepped into the shower fully clothed. So yeah, he was a six foot six, two hundred and seventy pound, twenty-six-year-old child.

  He kicked off his combat boots. His pants were next, then he yanked his shirt over his head, which freed his six-legged hitchhiker. The cockroach landed on the tile and scurried behind the toilet.

  Ah, sweet freedom. At least one of them had it.

  Water pounded on EJ’s head, which matched the headache pounding inside his skull. His powerless state fueled his anger, which was a downgrade from the rage he’d nurtured since the moment he met Ridley. Her words, her sobs, and tears, shouldn’t have affected him, not after everything she’d done. Not after she made him fight Avery, beat Avery, nearly kill—he couldn’t finish the thought.

  The memory of the cave-in, the sound of the rubble cascading from the ceiling, slamming into his brother’s body while he stood there, unable to help, ripped EJ apart. Him, aiming at Emeline.

  Firing at Avery. The bullets striking his brother.

  The only thing that made everything that had happened bearable was seeing Avery heal, hearing his steady breathing, knowing his big bro survived. That Ridley helped him dig and pull Avery to safety… confused him.

  Why’d she do it when she had what she wanted and getting the hell out of there was the wisest thing to do? Hell, leaving both him and Avery there to die would have been the smartest choice. If he’d been Ridley, that’s what he would’ve done.

  Then she threw Josie into the mix as if she thought that would explain everything. Her cryptic sputtering further muddied the waters. Why did she give Josie up, and what did she have to save the child from? Those were the questions that burned through EJ.

  And why did he suddenly care? Ridley Cross was the last woman who deserved his sympathy.

  And she wouldn’t have it. No. Nope. Not happening. She would rot before she got that from him.

  As ordered, he washed, like a good little slave. He cut the water off and loosely dried himself with the towel she’d left. He had to admit, it did feel wonderful to have the grime off his skin even if the bar of soap left him smelling like a Disney princess. Though that was better than what he smelled like after days of not bathing.

  He thought of Josie. The one brief image of her running across the playground to her mother and the scorching anguish on Ridley’s face. Right then he knew Ridley hadn’t willingly given her up. If he hadn’t been so bitter and fixated on killing her, he would’ve seen it sooner. A few times she had spoken of a curse. She said it in passing as if she was alone. She’d reduced him to an inanimate object, there for her personal use and forgotten the second that usefulness ended. That grated.

  Everything about her grated on him. Soon he’d be rubbed down to a nub.

  No matter how long EJ wanted to linger in the bathroom to study all the sides of this mystery, his body had orders to follow. He wrapped the towel low on his hips, as was his norm, and exited the bathroom. He hadn’t noticed the steam until he opened the door, and it rushed out and contacted the cooler air of the living room.

  Ridley leaned against the kitchen counter, a half-empty bottle of something in one hand and a glass in the other. She saw him, sputtered, and coughed. Liquor dribbled down her chin as he stood half naked a few feet from his prison guard.

  Somewhere in the house, a washing machine kicked into the spin cycle, the only sound other than her sharp breathing. She stared with a
hungry gaze he wasn’t unaccustomed to. Well, actually he was, just not from her. He’d always appreciated being ogled by a desirable woman and now was no different as her amethyst eyes moved south from his face. His blood heated and he didn’t mind. Love had nothing to do with this. This was a hormonal response, a chemical reaction honed by evolution. He’d be a liar to deny the appeal Ridley held. Even though he was pissed to hell and back, a part of him wanted her flat on her back, legs spread with him locked between.

  Good thing he was practically a zombie because right now, revenge sex held a certain appeal. Her gaze hadn’t strayed from the towel knotted above his groin. He wanted to grab it, rip it off, and end her speculation.

  He waited for the tingle in his balls. Waited for his blood to pool low and fill his cock. Annnd continued to wait. Seemed like a year though only a few seconds had passed before true panic set in.

  Holy Hell, she’s made me a eunuch.

  He was softer than ice cream left in the sun.

  Which moved him from pissed to furious. Ridley came close, invaded his personal space, and stopped a breath away from him. Dust from the cave-in clung to her eyelashes, turning them into tiny strips of antique lace surrounding her smoldering eyes.

  “God, I wish you were in there.”

  Why?

  Her gaze lowered and a shudder seemed to rack her body. Heat leached from her, warming him.

  “I could use a friend right now. But, we passed that point a long time ago.” Ridley sighed, and her breath stroked his chest. She took his hand, threaded her fingers through his. The act so simple, yet his heart clenched when she gently squeezed. Her gaze lifted to his. “Come on.”

  She tugged and he followed. This time he didn’t mind as she led them to the bedroom. She yanked the covers down. “Get in.”

  EJ stretched out on the bed, suddenly nervous. Until he caught her hands trembling as she drew the covers over him and perched her ass on the edge. Sadness cloaked her and the longing he’d glimpsed erased, regret its replacement.