She had tracked Khuket to the RedZone. One brush from her hand and undeniable power stormed through Ridley, leaving her quaking in awe. A true deity of the Eidos had returned and gained her first disciple.
Ridley used her speed to follow the goddess, studied her obsession with Avery Nicolis, and figured she could use it to her advantage. The answer to breaking her curse was in one of the two tomes. Only fragments of the books had been deciphered after centuries of trying. Khuket was Ridley’s one chance at salvation; otherwise, an early grave waited.
I’m not wrong! Survival instincts kicked in. Ridley had played this too long to be blindsided by two foreigners. Not only did she have things to do, she was in charge here, not them, and it was time to prove it.
Ridley stepped forward and stood directly behind Khuket. “Great Goddess, I'm going out for a while. Please don’t leave the residence. The members are not prepared to meet you. Once we introduce you to our members then you’ll be free to roam.”
That didn’t come out the way she wanted. She braced herself for the coming reprimand, but Khuket’s attention didn’t waver from the book or the artifacts. Ridley counted her blessings and beat a hasty retreat because she had a meeting that couldn’t wait.
The stone stairs lead from the basement to a landing. She pushed a lever secreted in a side panel. A door slid open to a narrow corridor. A thick runner cushioned the click of her knee-high, candy apple red Doc Martens. Another door opened as she approached, but a tapestry guarded the exit. A quick peek around the edge confirmed the library was empty. All members of the order had access to the house and could show up at any time. That’s why she usually took the secondary tunnels that lead to the building next door but didn’t want Khuket to know of its existence. Certain things should remain a secret because one never knows when an escape tunnel would come in handy.
The takeover of the Order was supposed to be easy, especially after she disbanded the council. A bunch of crusty windbags. It was time for the elders to retire. Mrs. Kelly, their leader once removed, had left the council under mysterious circumstances. One died from old age, another from a heart attack. The last two were a bit more stubborn. One demanded a house in Miami. Ridley bought the house with funds from the Order and prayed for a hurricane to blow the bitch away. The final holdout…Ridley didn’t like to think about the tactics she took to achieve her goals, but a needle filled with a special drug and a large payment to a doctor ensured that the council member was comfortably ensconced in a long-term care facility for dementia.
Ridley traveled through the house, nodding as she passed a few staff members who maintained the residence. She marched by the vertical fountain in the black and white tiled reception area to the exit. Seven numbers in the cypher lock clicked. She stepped outside the building and waited for the door to seal closed behind her. Crisp air drew the warmth from her blood, but left her feeling alive, and wiped her mental slate clean.
One step away from the house and the darkness unfurled in front of Ridley. She froze, not sure whether to fight or flee. Then the goddess stepped forth. The bands of chaos comprising her body transformed into sleek black leather covering every inch from her neck down and a hooded cape. “I shall join you.” An order. Not a request.
Oh goody. Company. “Goddess, it’s better if you stay here, safer.”
Nothing about Khuket looked normal. Not her quicksilver skin, ash-colored hair, or her abnormally large, moss-colored eyes. Halloween had passed weeks ago. There was no way they could walk the streets of New York City….Well maybe, but even New Yorkers, unaffected by the bizarre, would take a second look and a third to stare and question. Though, by the time the fourth urge took hold, acceptance would’ve already set in.
“Better for whom?” Khuket smiled, but there was no humor in the grin. “Where do you go?”
Why? What had changed to make the goddess question her motives? And could she detect a lie? Now wasn’t the time to test the theory. “I’m going to meet a merchant. He may have something I want—we need.”
Khuket’s eyebrows quirked, her expression turned thoughtful. “Proceed.”
Ridley stifled a sigh and led the way to the car. Thirty minutes later, they entered an empty Italian restaurant on the Upper Westside of Manhattan. A waiter guided them to a private booth in the rear of the dining room. Slowly, Ridley parted the red velvet curtains and peered inside.
“Miss Cross. I thought you weren’t coming.” Vito Maggione tapped the black briefcase on the table with a single finger.
Ridley glared at the repugnant little man in the cheap, brown suit and gaudy green striped tie. “My time is valuable, Vito.” She moved aside and let the goddess slide into the booth first. The hood covered her head and gloves covered her hands. At least she knew no one must see her face. Vito’s eyebrows shot skyward and interest sparked his bloodshot eyes.
“You got me here, so what do you have?” Ridley diverted his attention from Khuket.
Vito turned the briefcase around, popped the locks, and opened the lid. Ridley leaned over and studied the items. Mostly trinkets, a non-descript piece of gold, and a few semi-precious gems tourists would find tempting were artfully arrayed on black silk. “You brought me here for this crap?”
“Anything Egyptian, bring to the Order, first. That’s how it’s been for years.” Vito shrugged.
“Not inferior gems and broken pieces of jewelry.” She rose, but Khuket’s gloved hand grabbed her arm. With her other hand, she pointed to the gold.
“This,” she said in the old language.
A smile cracked Vito’s wrinkled face. The toady didn’t understand the ancient language, but he did understand profit and motivation. The eagerness in Khuket’s voice played right into his greedy hands. For an all-important goddess, Ridley needed to teach her the art of the deal.
“Why?” Ridley in the same language.
“Sijnruhs, Anu’Ra,” Khuket whispered reverently.
The translation came to Ridley slowly. Soul Catcher, an ancient relic of the gods. The lore surrounding Soul Catcher history returned to her, but like everything in the Order’s grimoire, the information was spotty. Ra commissioned Osiris, the God of the Underworld, to fashion special Orbs for each god. Each Orb was attuned to each deity and his or her specific power. The purpose, to check the balance in the pantheon. But when Ra ascended to the cosmos, the Soul Catchers vanished.
Ridley picked up the broken relic. “Where did you get this?”
“Do you think I’m going to tell you? Now that I can get you to pay more?” Vito grinned, cocky and confident, he had them where he wanted.
Ridley buried the urge to reach across the table and rip his throat out, but that wouldn’t get her what Khuket wanted. Khuket shifted and from the corner of Ridley’s eye, she saw the lower half of the deity revert to its original state, ribbons of chaos.
She wants them, badly. Why and can they help me break the curse? Quickly, Ridley quelled the bud of excitement unfurling in her heart.
“Let me handle this,” she whispered to Khuket and didn’t wait for her reply. “Is this all you have?” Ridley asked Vito.
“I have access to more.” He nodded and grinned.
Ridley pushed the curtain aside and waved at the waiter. “Quickly, pen and paper please.”
The waiter returned with the items. Ridley handed both to Khuket and asked her to draw the amulets, then eased out of the booth. She nodded at Vito to follow her.
“Who’s your strange friend?” Vito asked. His arm brushed hers.
Ridley stared at the man standing much too close. His smelled of garlic and stale beer. If she didn’t need those amulets, his windpipe would be decorating the carpet. “No one you need to remember.”
The paper came through a part in the curtain. She studied the egg-shaped design and the animal image drawn on each Orb before passing it to Vito.
“Fifty thousand for the pieces you have now and ten thousand for each additional Orb. She didn’t smile at Vito’s stunn
ed expression or his crafty speculation. He thought of gouging her for more money. And he would try, the only question being now, or later when he had the other items.
He opened the briefcase and handed everything over. Smart, he’d try it later with more bargaining chips. “Don’t make me kill you, Vito, and hire someone else.” She enjoyed making him sweat for the money.
His tongue slid out of his mouth and licked his fat lips, leaving a sloppy coating of saliva. “You’ll have your trinkets tomorrow.”
Ridley waited for Vito to leave before she parted the privacy curtains. Khuket was gone, the booth empty. Relief swamped her and her shoulders sagged…until she heard her name.
Khuket stood by the window next to the exit, staring in the direction Vito had left. “I am ready to depart.”
Good, back to the house where the goddess belonged. “Of course. I’ll take you back home.”
“We are not returning to the Order. I have another destination in mind.”
No, was on the tip of Ridley’s tongue, but Khuket’s gaze landed on her. An itch started in the pit of her stomach and climbed up her throat. Ridley shuddered, couldn’t help it. The itch spread to her lungs and left her gasping for a deep breath. She stared into Khuket’s eyes, which were swirling orbs inside the goddess’s grayish face.
Ridley needed Khuket alive and willing to help save her favorite assistant. Only then could the goddess die. “Yes, Great Goddess. Where would you like to go?” she wheezed.
“Who is most knowledgeable about the Book of Eidos? I want to meet her.”
Why? Was the first question that came to Ridley’s mind. “Belinda Randolph is the head archivist. I will take you to her tomorrow.” She braced her hand on her knees and tried to suck in more air.
“Now.” Darkness slithered in the depths of her murky eyes. A cloying enticement to obey, a delicious threat of the consequence of refusal.
Bile clogged Ridley’s throat. Dry heaves punched her stomach and left her clutching her throat. Yet she managed three words. “Yes, Great Goddess.”
Magically, the pain ceased. And though grateful to still have her life, Ridley suspected the torture had only begun.
Chapter Thirteen
Like a good puppet, Emeline obeyed Ridley’s order and turned in the opposite direction. A cold knot fisted her stomach. Having no choice sucked! Being Ridley’s toy wasn’t something to add to a resume.
Deserted streets and a single woman. Emeline wasn’t a fool. Tension and expectation strung her muscles tight. It didn’t take long for footsteps to fall in behind her. First one, then another echoed in the night. Emeline stopped in the middle of the block. She wasn’t going to play this game.
“Let’s get this over with.” She turned and faced two men. Both were average height and muscular build. Masks covered their faces. Cowards.
“Ridley sent you?” One of them nodded while the other cracked his knuckles. She wasn’t up for another beating. “Okay. You each get one punch and then I’ll start screaming.”
A muffled chuckle sounded from beneath a mask. “That’s not what she paid for. She wants you hurt. And we aim to please.” He swung for her head.
Each Null had a skill. To some degree, they all had the ability to sift through the emotions of others. Some could decipher thoughts. Emeline counted her sifting abilities in the deficient column. Although where sifting skills fell short, other skills emerged.
Emeline raised her arm in time to block the fist aimed for her head. She grabbed his elbow and tossed him into the nearest brick wall where he slid to a heap. The next one charged. A punch to his throat stopped him, followed with a spinning back kick, dropping him to the pavement. Her superior strength went into the plus column.
God, it felt good to hit something and finally use her mixed martial arts training. Strength was her skill. Though she didn’t trust herself getting in a ring and going toe to toe with an average woman, MMA training helped control her gift.
She’d given up so much when Grand checked out of the nursing home and showed up on her doorstep. Her freedom, social life, training, privacy, and the Order all went poof. Truth be told, she only missed the training and the Order. For so long, the women there were her only friends. Now, she had none. And the training gave her an outlet for her pent-up energies, read: sexual frustrations.
“Wakey.” Emeline slapped the guy on the pavement and then hauled him to his feet. She figured she didn’t have much time before Ridley or Avery arrived. She would prefer Ridley so she could finish working off her aggression.
Her would-be assailant pushed her off and swung a fist at her cheek. Emeline leaned into the punch and took the blow on her jaw. Been a while since she’d been tagged hard. It scrambled her brain a bit, but she’d had worse. She shook off the pain, then one of them threw her to the ground, left her dazed and gasping. She’d fallen right on her sore ribs.
Fucker! She curled into a tight ball and rode the pain, used the agony to fuel her resolve. Then she shut it down. The pain could wait. Now, she focused.
A car screeched around the corner.
“Come on, we gotta go.” One hauled his pal to his feet and they took off down the nearest alley while the cold seeped into Emeline from the concrete.
Tires squealed to a stop. It wasn’t long before a pair of combat boots came into her line of sight. Strong hands scooped her up and cradled her against a broad chest encased in a leather coat. Warmth surrounded her, made her want to burrow closer to his heat. Male musk and a hint of something else, something dangerous, filled her nostrils.
“I got you.” His voice, guttural and so damn sexy, rumbled through her.
No, he was on the hook. And she had just reeled him in. Her teeth chattered from the cold, his heat, her nerves, the lies.
Avery opened the passenger door and carefully sat her on the leather seat. He hit the overhead lights and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Calloused fingers brushed her hair away and angled her face toward the light.
“Who did this to you?” Low, his voice promised retribution.
“I didn’t get their number.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. His intensity made her insides squirm.
“I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“No.” She touched his hand. “It’s okay, not as bad as it seems.” She wiggled her jaw and managed only a slight grimace.
He leaned closer. All of him filled her vision. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Captured by his heated stare, she shook her head.
“How many were there?” His finger trailed over her cheek and down her neck.
Her thoughts kinda fizzled at his touch. “Who are you?” she remembered to ask again. He gave her a quizzical look, possibly thinking of a lie, she wondered. Her phone rang. Emeline fished it out of her purse and answered without looking. She listened to Zachary pound his chest about hiring a bodyguard for her. He was so proud of himself and expected a reward. The sick hope in his voice almost made her laugh.
“Describe him.” She ordered watching Avery.
“Big guy, bald, pissy attitude. I wanted his brother, but he volunteered,” Zachary said.
“Thanks, Zachary. I owe you one.”
“Really? Well—”
She pressed end. “So you’re my bodyguard?” Perfect. Zachary finally did something right.
“Until I get someone else.” He stepped back and slammed the passenger door closed.
Why accept the job only to get someone else? Nerves made her stomach flutter as she watched him walk around the front of the Range Rover and climb into the driver’s seat. “Do you have a name or shall I make up one?”
“Avery,” he said without looking at her. The car rumbled to a start. Something loud and angry blasted from the speakers. He clicked it off, though she didn’t mind. She preferred hip-hop, R&B, and a little bit of rap. No love songs, though Luther Vandross could put the most celibate body in the mood.
“Emeline,” she offered when
he didn’t ask. A giggle threatened to escape, but her bruised ribs would have none of it. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.’ Well, we are both well and truly tangled.
“Something funny?” He pulled into traffic.
He’s observant as a killer or watcher should be. No more lapses. She had to be on guard. Emeline noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel. Big, capable hands. “Two men. They wore masks. Tried to steal my purse.” He glanced at the satchel in her lap. Damn, she should’ve insisted they take it.
“Two men, one purse?” His gaze locked on hers. “Why do you need protection, Miss Gamble?”
She hadn’t told him her last name. She could call him on it, but he’d say Zachary told him, so she let it slide. “I don’t. I’m not the one who hired you.”
“Your ex is very concerned about your welfare.”
“You know a lot about me in such a short time, Mr.—what is your last name?” The car rolled to a stop at a red light. His head turned to her and she shifted in her seat to keep an eye on him.
“Nicolis. Your ex filled in a few blank spots before I caught up to you. Anything else you want to know?”
“Yeah. Did he fill you in on where I live, too, ’cause we’re real close?”
His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the surrounding area. The light turned green. “Your boss said someone broke into your house. Beat up you and your grandfather. Now you're attacked on the street. Your enemies, who and where are they?”
She lives in a big house on Riverside Drive. I will take you straight to her. “I don’t have enemies.”
“We all have enemies,” he growled. “Some closer than others.”
Ain’t that the truth.
“Did you file a report?”
“Yes.” Though she had to fabricate a story about a break in, and at this moment she couldn’t remember exactly what she told the police. Lie now and Avery could check it, trap her, and unravel everything. She glanced at him. He studied the road. She opened her mouth to ask about his rabid interest and quickly shut it.
Evermore (Descendants of Ra: Book 3) Page 10
