by Addison Fox
“What did you do with Brody? And where’s Grandmother?”
“I’m sure he’s tearing up the house right now, he and his little friends. I made an excuse to use the restroom and he actually allowed me to go.”
Grandmother stirred slightly, the movements catching Ava’s attention. They’d captured Grandmother, too? For the first time Ava could remember, she thought she saw fear on her grandmother’s face.
Where was Brody?
Her head swam with pain, but Ava fought to keep her stomach intact as Enyo grilled her uncle. “You really are a miserable little prick—you know that—to do this to your own mother.”
Wyatt held up his stubby little hands. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
Enyo gave a wicked little smile as she squeezed Wyatt’s knee. “It wasn’t part of your plan. She’s always been part of mine. A little extra insurance, as it were.”
Ava watched in disgust as one bloodred nail traced a path across her uncle’s inner thigh. “We do know how devoted sons are to their mothers.”
Disgust shifted to repulsion when her uncle closed his eyes, ecstasy stamped on his features as Enyo continued to trace pattern after pattern.
“Enjoying yourself, Ava?”
“No. I’m repulsed.”
“Oh well. The night’s young.” Enyo’s attention never wavered, but Ava held her ground, her gaze equally firm and unyielding in return. “I’ve been waiting to meet you, you know. Ever since I found out about your great prophecy.”
“Prophecy?”
“Oh yes. You’re the Chosen One.”
“What line of bullshit did my uncle feed you? And why ever would you think that about me?”
Wyatt’s eyes popped open from his lust-induced coma. “You see visions when you’re near the stones. Your father told me.”
As a strategy, denial was fairly weak, but she’d take what she could get. “What are you talking about?”
“He told me how upset you were by the stone he smuggled home. And then it was in his journals. Your reaction. How much you hated them. How the stone acted on you.”
“How the stone acted on me?” Play it, Ava. Make it seem real.
“A vision!” Small beads of spittle formed at Wyatt’s lips as he shouted. “Your father told me!”
“Maybe he had a vision, but I had nothing.”
“Now, now, Wyatt.” Enyo patted him on the thigh again, the move even more repulsive the second time. “There’s no need for this outrage. We’ll find the truth out soon enough. In the meantime, have you told your niece your little secret? I’m sure she’d love to know.”
Unwilling to show interest, Ava clamped her mouth shut. She would not ask.
“What secret, my Queen?”
Enyo flicked another fingernail down Wyatt’s thigh. “That very big secret, Wyatt.” Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, yet loud enough Ava could hear the entire thing. “You know the one I mean. The secret that you killed your brother.”
Ava’s vision swayed as the air in the limousine evaporated. Panic exploded in her chest, along with a soul-searing pain that sent shock waves through her nerve endings.
“You didn’t?” she whispered.
“Oh, yes.” Enyo smiled. “He did. Not all by himself, of course. He hired thugs to do the job, but it was convincing.”
Before Ava could digest anything else, the limousine pulled to a stop and two oversized men opened the doors—the butlers from before.
With pointed teeth and horns?
Oh God, what were they?
Ava pulled her grandmother to her as one reached in to grab the older woman. When he proved too strong for her, she reluctantly let go of her grandmother’s arm.
The second goon grabbed her, dragging her from the car as well.
“Phobos and Deimos, be careful with them. You can’t play with your new pets just yet.”
The hard pushes on her back grew softer, but they were still awkward. Like puppies who didn’t know their own strength, the two of them had a lightness to their step at odds with their large bodies.
Just like Enyo.
The one shoving her along—Deimos, she thought—pressed her toward a set of stairs. Ava swatted at his hand, the overly long fingernails pressing into her back giving her the chills. “Be careful with my grandmother. She’s old and she’s disoriented.”
For one moment, she thought Phobos was going to push the old woman. Ava let out a great shriek, which was obviously what he wanted. He turned and shot her a wicked grin, then turned to sneer at Deimos.
“I got it first!”
“She didn’t scream for herself. She screamed for her grandmother.”
“Like it matters.”
“You said scream.”
“Right. No rules on it. I win.”
This continued all the way down the stairs. Phobos and Deimos? The ones Brody told her about?
“What has Wyatt gotten us into?” Grandmother whispered to her as they hit the last step and were dragged down a maze of hallways.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
And then there was no more talking because Deimos and Phobos pulled them up short next to a heavily armed door.
With those large, oversized movements, Phobos unlocked the door, then dragged both of them through it.
One overhead light illuminated the dank room. A line of bars ran along one wall.
A jail cell?
And inside that cell was one lone man.
Then Ava screamed all for herself as she realized whom she was looking at.
Dr. William Martin lay dead in a pile of decaying food. Rats crawled over and around his body as he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.
Brody stalked around the house, his lion fully extended in his aura, stalking right next to him. The beast hadn’t stopped roaring since they returned home, the echoes of those primal cries ricocheting through the cavernous space of the house.
His brothers came running, Callie bringing up the rear.
“Brody! What is wrong with you?” Quinn’s bull reacted instinctively, escaping from his tattoo form and riding high in the Warrior’s aura, poised to fight with Brody’s lion. Only when Callie screamed and stepped in between them did both men stand down.
Callie held a firm hand to his chest. “Brody, tell us what is wrong.”
“They’ve got her! Enyo’s got her!”
He walked them through the last few hours, shared what had happened at Ava’s grandmother’s house, each second ticking by an agony of missed opportunity.
“Did she get the GPS on Wyatt?”
“I think so.” Brody paced, his lion pacing next to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I never even heard them leave.”
Quinn had calmed down, his bull back in his tattoo and his fingers busy flying over his BlackBerry keys. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?” Callie asked.
Quinn tapped a few more keys and let out a grunt of satisfaction. “I’ve been playing with an algorithm focusing on pockets of energy and electricity, all in an attempt to triangulate Enyo’s position when she’s active.”
“And?”
“And, there have been two pockets of extra charge that aren’t tied to any ConEd digging or maintenance.”
Brody wanted to tear into all of them, the information coming in frozen dribs and drabs. “Get to the fucking point.”
Quinn eyed him head on. “Two areas of higher than usual electrical readings. I just overlaid the GPS tracker on it.”
“Come on, Quinn. I’m aging here,” Kane said with a heavy sigh. “Get to the point.”
“We’ve got two locations. An old abandoned subway and rail tunnel. And Cleopatra’s Needle in Central Park. Both have had activity. But the tunnel’s my bet for the moment. My GPS reading just matched the location.”
“I’m going there first. Quinn, send reinforcements to the needle and give me the coordinates for the tunnel.”
The insensate anger
driving Brody calmed ever so slightly at the knowledge they had some sense of where they were going.
“Why send additional men to the needle?” Callie demanded.
“There’s an added piece of the prophecy. The needle acts as a harness for the power. They feed it back to the users of the stones. If Enyo’s already on her way there, I want to make sure we’re covered. The needle is her end goal.”
“Grandmother,” Ava hissed, “are you okay?”
“Other than having my arms and legs bound, yes, I’m fine.”
“How’s your head?”
“The worst headache I’ve ever had that didn’t involve a martini.” Ava heard her grandmother moving around, which she took to be a good sign. When she heard the added grumble of, “The martinis were a hell of a lot more fun, too,” she actually felt a smile cross her lips.
Despite the brave front for her grandmother, Ava felt her spirits waning. Did Brody get out of the house? Or was he being held prisoner there? Enyo had to know about killing him by his head.
Ava knew he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. She’d know.
Right?
She’d know if something had happened to him. The bone-chilling numbness in her would feel . . . something.
Right?
Oh God, how were they getting out of this one? And how could she get a message to Brody if he was alive? To his brothers? Did he have any idea how to begin looking for her?
And why the hell had she left to go find Grandmother?
With a sigh, she realized the hows and whys really didn’t matter. What mattered was what was.
It was time to figure that out.
“Grandmother. Do you have any idea of where we are?”
“I’m not certain, but I believe it’s one of the abandoned subway tunnels.”
“But we’re on a bed.”
“So she must have rigged it up as a waiting area.”
She?
What would Grandmother know of Enyo?
Of its own volition, Ava’s mind went back to Dr. Martin. She hadn’t been able to remove the image of his lifeless body from her mind’s eye or erase the evidence of how horrific his last days were. “There aren’t jails in the subways.”
“She probably rigged that, too.”
“Here. Give me your hands and I’ll try to work on the knots.”
As her grandmother shifted to make her hands more accessible, she kept up a steady stream of quiet chatter. “What does this woman want with you? And what did she want with your boss, the poor man? Is something going on at the museum?”
“Appears so.” Ava tugged at the knots, but they were incredibly tight. With a dark sigh, she reset her focus, trying to orient herself by running her fingers over the knots.
Grandmother’s voice grew quiet as she held her hands still. “Is my son involved in this?”
“I didn’t realize it until last night, but I’m afraid so.”
“Oh. Oh no.” Grandmother didn’t say anything else, but just held herself ramrod straight as Ava worked at the knots.
Ava felt the knots at her grandmother’s wrists slip just as the sound of the door lock began to open. “Don’t let them know we’ve got you out.”
“Of course.” Aha. There was the haughty disdain Ava knew and loved.
Bright overhead lights flipped on as Enyo and Uncle Wyatt moved into the dark, dank room. Wyatt ran immediately to her grandmother’s side of the bed. “Mother, are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not okay. I’m tied up.”
Wyatt straightened, his focus on Enyo. “Surely you can let my mother go.”
Enyo’s smile spread out. “Surely not. Your mother is my insurance policy.”
“But I’m already helping you!”
“It’s not for you, Wyatt. It’s for your niece. I want to make sure she’s more than willing—eager even—to help me, too.”
As Enyo’s focus spun around to her, Ava’s stomach did a pitch and roll. The only thing for which she could be grateful was that her stomach was empty.
“Insurance for what?”
“Well, now that you’ve seen how your dear friend spent his last days, surely you will not wish the same thing on your beloved grandmother—the woman who raised you and the only link a poor orphaned girl has to family.”
Raw, rank terror like she’d never felt before gripped her insides. Ava clutched at her stomach, clawing at the roiling pain. Partly in terror, partly with remorse, her mind whirled with the reality of her situation.
She was trapped by a crazy goddess with superhuman powers.
She and her grandmother would likely not make it out alive.
She had finally found a life—and someone in it—worth living for and she was about to lose both.
“Now, Dr. Harrison, seeing as how we understand each other, you’re going to listen to what I have to tell you. And you’re going to follow my directions to the letter. Do you understand?”
Fear choked her throat, but Ava nodded her agreement—as if she had a choice.
The door opened again, Deimos and Phobos bouncing into the room like a couple of psychotic clowns.
“Did she scream yet?” Phobos balanced on the balls of his feet.
Deimos pushed his brother so he lost his balance. “Cried, too? I love it when they cry.”
If she wasn’t scared out of her mind, Ava realized she actually might be fascinated by the two of them—the sort of fascination one would have for a king cobra, but fascinated all the same.
Enyo shot a benevolent smile in the direction of her nephews, then turned her full focus on Grandmother. “I believe it’s time, Patrice. Don’t you?”
Patrice? How did Enyo know Grandmother’s name?
And why was Grandmother standing up, exposing her wrists?
“Grandmother!” she hissed at her. “Sit down.”
“No, dear. I don’t think I’m going to do that.” And then her grandmother dropped the chains at her wrists and smiled—smiled?—at Enyo.
“Grandmother!” Ava hissed again. “Your blue blood won’t work on this one.”
Her grandmother paid her no mind. Her usual brand of self-belief was in full force.
As though looking at a movie montage that pulled all the pieces together, Ava suddenly saw the truth.
Grandmother continued the walk over to Enyo and stood next to her, like a soldier falling in line with the leader.
Her grandmother smiled broadly. “I told you I’d come through, Enyo.”
Ava felt Enyo’s gaze laser into hers. Dark, evil currents swirled there, and underlying the mix was pure triumph.
Victory.
With a small pat on the back, Enyo smiled benevolently down at Ava’s grandmother. “Yes, Patrice, you were the only one I knew I could count on.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Ava couldn’t tear her gaze off Enyo and her grandmother.
What the hell?
Of all the things she’d learned over the last week, of all the things she’d had to accept, this really was the bomb of the century.
Impossible.
Her grandmother was in league with the goddess of war?
“Grandmother, what are you doing here with her? With Enyo?”
“Ava, Ava. You really are a disappointment to me. Nothing but a boring scientist after all. No imagination. No spunk. No zest. If only one could choose their bloodlines. Choose their lot in life.”
Choose?
“Choose what, Grandmother?”
“The prophecy should have foretold of me. Of my gifts. Instead, they passed through me! Through me to my son and his useless daughter. It was my gift!”
Wyatt chose that moment to pipe up. He hadn’t left his mother’s side since he’d come into the room; he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. In fact, if Ava had read the situation correctly, she’d have said he was growing distinctly uneasy about the choices he’d made.
“Ava is the answer to the Great Prophecy, Mother. You told me that years ago. You said we cou
ld use her to wield the power of the stones.”
Grandmother didn’t even turn her head, but just kept her eyes turned on Ava. “And we will, Wyatt.”
“How long have you been her partner, Grandmother? Since Daddy died?”
“Even I’m not that crass, Ava. Enyo and I have spent the last few years working on this project. How else did you think you got the curation job? And why else was the dig reopened in Egypt?”
“You did that?”
“Of course I did. All of it. And you were so easy. You’ve been so easy all along. All I have to do is mention your beloved father and you go into fits of need, desperate to please his memory. What a disappointment you are.”
Enyo let out a loud yawn, turning her attention to her nephews. “Deimos. Phobos. Please load up the limousine. I’d like to try out my new toys. Today.”
The Bobbsey twins grabbed Ava and Wyatt, while her grandmother was allowed to walk on her own. Now that the visage of frailty was off, Ava saw she had amazing use of her arms and legs, easily walking back up the steps of the old tunnel.
Oh God, where was Brody? Or his brothers? The freaking zodiac cavalry.
Maybe Brody really was hurt. Ava hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on that idea, but what if he was dead? Ajax had used the poison on him to great effect—what if Enyo had conjured something like that?
As they marched back up the stairs they’d descended only the evening before, she tried desperately to come up with a plan. Of course, one scan of the broad backs of Deimos and Phobos and Ava had to acknowledge this wasn’t the ideal time to make a break.
When that suggestion passed, she found she was dismally empty on any other ideas.
Her gaze continued to roam the inside of the luxury car, desperate for answers—for something, for some idea that might help her get out of this.
Brody dropped into the abandoned subway tunnel, his port matched exactly to Quinn’s instructions. He found the heavy feel of his drawn sword a comforting weight on his shoulder muscles.
The Xiphos was fine for daily combat, but these were their pride and joy—swords forged on Mount Olympus from the heat of Zeus’s thunderbolts. Themis had gifted each of them with one on their turning.
