“I’ll consider it for you then.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I don’t know when I became such a Pollyanna.”
Ra shifted, standing in front of her. Rose’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, but he was still mostly a dark, nebulous form. She couldn’t make out his individual features.
“I like how you are. Dry. Sarcastic. Everything about you shows me that you are smart and will find a way to survive.”
That was sort of the story of her life. Things went sideways, and she survived. “Maybe what you like about me are the things I like about you. Smart. A survivor. A sense of humor only someone who really knows you will get.”
He made a noise in his throat as if he didn’t disagree with her and maybe even liked what she said. His next question surprised her. “What is your happiest memory?”
“The day on the pond with the three of you,” she replied. The wind picked up, whipping right through her coat, and she shivered. “And my mom. At the Arboretum. When a bird crapped on her head. It was before she got sick. I wasn’t hurting so much that day, and we trekked over the paths and up Peters Hill. She looked up and plop! Right on her forehead.”
He moved to stand next to her, then reached for her. He entwined their fingers and squeezed. “Your happiest memory is the day a bird crapped on your mother?”
Something about the word “crap” coming out of Ra’s mouth made her chuckle. “Yes.”
“But I am in your second happiest memory.” His voice was quiet, barely discernible over the wind.
“Yes.”
His form blurred as he took her in his arms. Then he kissed her. He tasted like cinnamon and chocolate, and she had a flash of him sneaking a bite of chocolate bar he’d hidden in the freezer. She jerked back, ready to chide him for not sharing, but he wouldn’t let her go.
He dove his hand into her hair, holding her in place while he drank from her lips.
He was velvety warmth, sipping at her. She held onto his shoulders. Using him to balance, she stood on her tiptoes. Ra made a sound deep in his throat that had her arching even closer.
He was ruthless, just the way she expected he would be. His lips were firm and his entire body rock solid.
That was Ra. Steady. Ruthless. Solid.
But passionate.
All of those thoughts passed through her mind, along with the overwhelming desire to get closer. She loved his hands on her. The way he held her in place and controlled the kiss, but at the same time gave her exactly what she needed.
What in the world made a man like Ra interested in someone like her? What had made him stop on that snowy night and save her life?
“Stop.” The words wound through her mind. “There is no one like you. Not anywhere. Strong.” He punctuated the thought with a kiss. “Beautiful. Smart. I never believed someone like you could be mine.”
She was his. Maybe it had been chance that he’d saved her life, but she was consciously choosing him now. With each breath they shared, he became more and more hers.
“Yours.” There was wonder attached to his thoughts now. He’d never thought of himself as belonging to anyone before. Well. He should now. She’d just claimed him.
Ra chuckled as he eased away. “I like how certain you are.”
“I am,” she replied. For some reason, it seemed important to say this out loud. “You’re important, Ra.” That wasn’t exactly what she meant, so she tried again. “You’re important to me. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. I want to protect you.”
The images came in a flash. Ra, sword in hand, as he sliced his way through humans. In this memory, Rose saw the world from Ra’s perspective. She knew his brothers were behind him, and that he had to protect them.
The sun beat down on his back, burning his skin so it felt tight. The scent of blood, metallic and sour, filled the air. He was thirsty, so thirsty, but he didn’t want to drink from these humans.
He wanted every piece of these humans to be destroyed. Blood splashed across his face. Good. Each human dead was one less person who could hurt his family.
Rose gasped as the blurry memory came into focus. Some parts of the image were so sharp. A woman’s dark hair wet with blood. Her eyes—they looked like Ra’s—staring sightlessly at the bright blue sky. But the rest of her was hazy. Her facial features blurred, like Ra was trying to zoom in on them, but he couldn’t recall the details.
Rose was hit with impressions. Mother. Beautiful.
The next images were ones from a nightmare. Rose gasped and bent at the waist, aware with some part of her mind that Ra had gripped her arms.
The smell—pennies and burned flesh.
A man, hand outstretched, reached for the hazy woman. This face was razor sharp and almost identical to the one she’d just held. Rose followed the line of his fingers along his arm and then wished she hadn’t.
He was in pieces. Hacked and broken.
“He tried to get to her,” Ra whispered. “To save her. They had to cut him apart to stop him.”
“Your father.”
Ra might have nodded. It was too dark for her to see. “I made them put him back together before I killed them all.”
Oh my god. She didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to imagine how horrible that must have been. “Why?”
It didn’t sound like him when he spoke—he was too removed. Too distant. Like he was repeating something he’d read a thousand times and was merely a statement of fact. “We believed souls returned to their bodies. I couldn’t let him return to pieces.”
She knew better, though. That distance was armor, and his hurt was tangible, pulsing through his body. Rose went to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed. “You’re a good son.”
He stiffened. “If I’d been a good son, I would have stopped them before they were murdered.”
What could she say to that? Guilt was something she understood. How many times had she wondered something similar? If only her mother had focused on her own health, instead of Rose’s, she could have gone to the doctor earlier. The cancer wouldn’t have been so advanced. There would have been a chance.
So she said nothing. She merely held him and waited for him to ease into her embrace. It took a long time. Her teeth chattered and her feet were numb.
When his arms tightened, she let out a breath. She’d absorbed his stress and hadn’t even realized it.
“Horus and Seti are going to come looking for us soon,” he murmured. He rested his head on top of hers. “And you’re freezing.”
“I think I have frostbite.”
He jerked back and swept her into his arms, rushing back the way they’d come. Her eyes watered from the cold wind, but she laughed at both the sensation and his worry. “I was joking!” she cried.
It only took seconds before the house came into view. The door opened, and they were enveloped by heat and light.
She was out of breath, like she’d been the one running, but realized it was from laughing. Running with Ra was like being on a motorcycle, racing headfirst into the wind.
He glared down at her. She tried to hide her smile, but it was impossible. “I’m not sorry.”
Leaning down, he gave her a hard kiss on her cold lips. “Did I ask for an apology?” Lifting his eyebrows, he straightened to his full height.
She shook her head, rolling back on her heels. “Can we do that again? On a warmer day?”
Ra’s only response was to groan and tip his head back to the ceiling. “Do I look like something to be ridden?”
Nearby, someone choked, and Rose lost it. She laughed so hard her side ached and she had to pinch it.
Ra, when she met his gaze, was smiling broadly.
“You did that on purpose. You knew exactly what you were saying.” Her face hurt from smiling.
He merely shrugged. “Perhaps.”
The day had flown by, and she was wrung out, exhausted. Rose yawned. “It feels late.” Nothing had been accomplished, and yet she had the sense that they’d made some head
way. She—at least—knew that going forward, she had one goal.
Slay an army.
15
Ra
“How much did you see?” Ra asked his brothers as he watched Rose climb the steps to her bedroom.
The door between Rose’s thoughts and theirs slid shut so quietly, so quickly, she wouldn’t even notice.
“You can’t think we’d leave you out there?” Seti seemed to think that was the most idiotic thing ever. Ra hadn’t thought that. He’d felt them near, tracking him and Rose as they went for their short walk. They’d hovered at the edges of his consciousness, but they’d also hovered in the shadows.
“He knew we were there,” Horus stated. “He means how much of what he showed Rose. He wants to know that.” His voice turned sad. “All of it, brother.”
That he hadn’t meant to happen. He should have shut the door before they saw their parents.
Above them, Rose’s door shut, and Seti faced him. “It is something I replay in my mind as well.” He continued on silently, “I don’t remember her face. Why can I remember the smell of her death, but I can’t see her face?”
“I don’t remember her either.” Horus’s voice was quiet. “The only reason I remember our father is because he looked like you. But our mother? All I have are flashes.”
Ra ran his hands through his hair, turned away from the stairs, and strode into the library. It was dark, but he didn’t need light.
With Rose, he began to act more human than he really was. He made noise when he walked. Turned on lights. Took a shower. He even ate when Rose ate.
But he didn’t need to do any of those things.
Above him, she moved about. The water in the bathroom came on, running in the sink before shutting off again.
Without even trying, he could hear her heart beating in her chest and—if he worked only a little harder—the blood rushing through her veins.
How did this small person think she could destroy an army? His question echoed in his brothers’ minds as well. “She thinks she is their creator,” Seti said. He closed his eyes, and Ra got the sense he was opening the door between them. “She is plotting ways to kill them right now.”
“I didn’t invite you to my plotting.” Her voice was as clear as if she stood next to them.
Something, the fist around his heart maybe, eased upon hearing her.
“We should be plotting together,” Seti replied. “We have had much more practice.” He said it as a statement of fact, but Rose sighed. Then she spoke aloud. “I am sorry.”
In a flash, Seti was gone, leaving Ra and Horus alone in the library. His footsteps echoed across the floor above them.
Ra stared at the ceiling, tilting his head as he caught the slight uptick in Rose’s heartbeat.
His brother’s serious voice filtered to them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
16
Rose
Rose’s heart pounded at Seti’s sudden appearance. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Logically, I understand that,” she said. God. This house was freezing. She hadn’t been able to get warm. It was beautiful, but so drafty. She shivered despite Seti’s closeness.
“Come on” he said, lifting her into his arms. “You need to get comfy.” The word sounded funny coming from him, but she didn’t argue. She let him place her on the bed and snuggled under the covers. When she held them up as an invitation, he kicked his shoes off and got in with her.
Seti lifted his arm, and she ducked under it to rest her head on his chest. His heart was slow, a heavy thud with long seconds between each beat.
“Still cold?” he asked.
Even with her socks on, her body was covered in goosebumps. “Yes. The air must be coming in between all the cracks. Can you feel it?”
He shook his head. “No, but changes in temperature don’t affect me like they do humans.”
“Hmm.” His body didn’t feel warmer or cooler than hers.
Rose took a breath and let it out, like she was blowing out birthday candles. Seti chuckled. “Are you expecting to see your breath?”
“Yes.” Her teeth clicked together, and he glanced down at her, concern drawing his brows together.
“Rose…” He cut off suddenly, lifting his head and glaring toward the window. “Don’t move.”
“What—” The door between their minds was steel and not moving an inch. He was a blur of motion, one second at her side, the next at the window. He stared outside before his gaze went to the roof and across the ceiling.
Something was on the roof.
Pushing the covers off her legs, she attempted to move off the bed. Seti waved his hand, and the door opened a crack. “Don’t move.”
So she was going to just sit here, waiting for something to get her, while the brothers prepared to fight.
Slowly, she reached for the bedside lamp. It was made of brass and heavy. One tug pulled the cord from the wall. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Hopefully, her skin would be metal today, because as substantial as the lamp seemed, it wouldn’t do her much good against a vampire or soldier.
Cold air whooshed over her neck, and Rose glanced toward the door. Like something from a nightmare, the door creaked open. Seti tugged her back, but she caught a flash of milky blue eyes and gray skin.
Lurching around her, Seti grabbed the creature. “Wait!” it cried, voice garbled. It reached clawed hands toward her. What in the world?
“Wait,” Rose found herself repeating.
The window behind them shattered. She spun, lifting the lamp into hitting position, but it was Ra who came inside. He didn’t spare her a glance—his entire focus went to the crawler. “Kill it.”
Horus came through the bedroom door a second later, smelling like snow and salt. And out of breath. “It is alone.”
“They’re never alone,” Seti said through clenched teeth.
Ra opened his mouth, but Rose interrupted before he spoke. “Wait.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but gave a short nod.
This creature here, he could be one of hers. She might never get this kind of opportunity again.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
Its gaze went from Seti to her. “Smelled you.”
Smelled her? “Just now?” she asked, “when I was outside?”
It didn’t answer, so Seti gave it a little shake. It came alive then, hissing and spitting, clawing and kicking to get away. “No!” it got out. “Smelled you on them!” Speaking of smells, the sour and rot of the crawler was beginning to overpower the freezing air coming in through the broken window. She could almost taste it when she breathed. God. She was going to be sick.
It cried out as Seti hissed. Its skin changed colors, gray to pink to red, boiling up like a blister.
And just like they’d said happened to the crawlers at the Arboretum. “Let it go, Seti,” she rushed out. He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had, but this could be important. “Do it, please.”
“Then get behind me.” Horus moved next to her, a sentinel between her and the creature.
“Please,” she repeated when it looked like Seti wasn’t going to move.
With a flourish, he dropped the creature and flexed his hand. It was red, like whatever had happened to the crawler’s skin had hurt him, too.
It stayed where it fell, but rocked restlessly, forward and back.
“You smelled me on who?” she asked.
It looked at Ra and Seti, then lifted a claw to point at them.
“At the Arboretum?”
Nodding, it rocked toward her again. Was it trying to get closer? To hurt her? That didn’t seem to be it, though. The other crawlers she’d seen, they were focused. The ones that had attacked Horus had lasered in on him. But this one was jumpy. Confused.
Like it couldn’t stay away from her.
“Who am I to you?” she asked, waiting for the answer she already knew.
She felt Seti watching her. Horus touched her shoulder, offering support, but she could handle this.
“Creator.”
Sucking in a breath, Rose leaned toward Horus.
“Why didn’t it attack us?” Horus asked. “Like the others there?”
Maybe it couldn’t. Or maybe its desire for self-preservation overrode whatever it was Stone wanted it to do.
“Why did you follow them?” she asked. “You must have known what would happen.”
It hissed but bobbed its head. “Had to. Wanted to.”
Wanted to. She glanced at the guys. “Is this normal?” Was this the connection between creatures and their creators?
“What do you want?” she asked. “You wanted to come here, you’re here. Now what?”
“Don’t know.” It spit when it spoke and wiped its hand over its mouth. Rose studied it closer. The skin that had blistered had begun to heal, smoothing out into the bluish-gray hue. While it smelled, it wasn’t falling apart like some of the others she’d seen. Tufts of hair still stuck to its head. It was young.
“When were you made?”
It froze, cocking its head to one side, animal-like.
“Not long ago,” Ra answered for it. “Months old. If that.”
“Don’t remember.”
“And you don’t know what you want from me?”
It shook its head.
“So what am I supposed to do with it?” She asked the question of herself, but it was Seti who answered.
“Let us kill it.”
But it was her responsibility. She was the one who made the promise that she’d undo what Dr. Stone had made using her blood. It was different, though, looking at it face-to-face. It made no move to hurt her, and merely hissed at the guys when they got too close.
Now that the moment was here, she found herself wanting to scoop it into a towel and place it outside like she did with spiders.
“Shit.”
“Pretty girl,” it said. “Creator.”
Echoes of Blood and Glory Page 7
