Everlasting (Descendants of Ra: Book 2)

by Tmonique Stephens

  When the quimaera first came, the powers Nephythys had gifted him surged forth. His sword manifested, ready for combat. Then it disappeared, leaving him defenseless against the coming onslaught. Lessons from his father, Thrace’s greatest warrior, resurfaced after so many lost centuries. Improvise, he had often lectured after stripping his sons of their weapons and then attacking both of them, first together, and then individually when they had grown.

  Finding the spikes and poles he’d used to kill five of them was a blessing. Two died from broken necks and the last one he was about to finish off when something pierced his side, dropping him to the grass. He touched the area and felt warm, sticky blood leaving his body. Pain sliced into his chest when he tried to rise. But below his waist, numb, as if nothing ever existed.

  Alexis’s frantic voice came to him from a distance. Was she hurt? Why hadn’t she stayed where he left her? The last beast had to be finished off before it regained its strength and returned to kill.

  He tried rising, only to groan and cough in agony. Warm blood flowed freely and pooled beneath him. His lungs ached. If he could catch his breath, all would be well. Each struggle resulted with less air entering and more blood exiting.

  Is this how an immortal died on a cold battlefield, leaving his love behind to bury his body? No. A warrior died this way, only he never thought he would leave anyone behind.

  “Reign?”

  Her voice bathed his soul and her hands touched his face, shoulders, and chest, soothing him. Now that he had someone to live for he couldn’t die. He dug deep and willed himself to heal. He threw what energy he had into the effort, but in the end, he still lay in a growing puddle of blood.

  Alexis grabbed his shoulders and pulled. Her image swam in his vision.

  “Reign!” She stared at her red palm.

  Strange how her hair looked like a river of blood flowing in the misty moonlight. Her face was ghostly and haunting. This wasn’t the last memory he wanted of her.

  “You said you were immortal. Couldn’t die. Why’d you lie?” Her voice was shrill and accusatory.

  “Did not lie,” he managed to whisper, using what little strength he had left to raise a hand and stroke her cheek.

  “Why aren’t you healing? You have to heal.” She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shook him.

  If only I could.

  His entire time here he spent trying to leave her. Finally, he would succeed. Not quite what he expected, but fate would have its way. The irony twisting his insides had nothing to do with his injury. She’d shot at him. Likely helped kill him, yet he felt no bitterness. His death ensured her safety. Nothing else mattered. He stared deep into her teary eyes and was grateful he had met her, loved her.

  Thank you, God, for this respite. The centuries of torture were worth every moment.

  He had to tell her. In these last seconds, he would bare his soul and lay his heart at her feet. Reign opened his mouth to speak.

  “Alexis!” Mrs. Kelly hissed, lost somewhere in the mist.

  “Over here,” Alexis screamed, her tears pelted his face. “She’s going to get help. You’ll be fine! Fine, you hear!” She stroked his face. “I-I’m ssso s-s-sorry.”

  He couldn’t die with her feeling responsible.

  “Alexis, what happened?” Mrs. Kelly kneeled beside him.

  “I distracted him. I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed. “I-I had to stop him. He was killing them. They’re not animals. They’re human beings. Real people trapped inside those things. But now he should heal, but he hasn’t. Why won’t he heal?”

  Human? The quimaera weren’t human. Whatever humanity they claimed ended long ago. They deserved none of her guilt and neither did he. But his reserves were gone. He wouldn’t be long for this existence. He wondered if he would return to Duat, to Nephythys. If he knew which gods would answer his prayers, he would pledge his fealty.

  “Impossible, he can’t die. He’s a god. Well, demi-god, still…” Suddenly, Mrs. Kelly whipped a glove off her hand and pointed to Alexis’s wrist. “Take that off!” She commanded.

  “What?” Puzzlement contorted Alexis’s face as she looked around.

  “The bracelet, fool! Take it off and place it here!” She pointed to the opening of her white satin glove.

  “Why?” Alexis demanded.

  “It’s the Serpent! One of the greatest relics of the Egyptian Gods. It nullifies a god’s vis’Ra, turning them mortal. That’s why he won’t heal.”

  Alexis held out her hand. “Take it off!”

  Mrs. Kelly shook her head. “I can’t. Only the wearer can remove a relic.”

  “This is bullshit!” Alexis said.

  He watched as she uncoiled the bracelet from her wrist and dropped it into the glove.

  “What now?” Alexis said.

  A fire ignited in his bloodstream, burned away his paralysis, and flooded his system with more power than he ever felt before. Every muscle in Reign’s chest seized, his heart kicked into overdrive while his lungs contracted, squeezing a harsh groan from his throat. Excruciating pain raced up his spine. A tingle turned into a thousand stabs attacking every muscle from his waist down. His muscles contorted and seized in one violent spasm. Alexis threw herself on top of him, trying to hold him down. He pushed her off and rolled away from the women. Seconds later, he surged to his feet with his sword singing in his clenched fist. Awareness singed him, fundamentally changing him down to his soul.

  He peered at his surroundings with a different insight. The night faded away, revealing the landscape in brilliant colors and vivid details.

  Especially Alexis. Not only did he see her, but also her essence coursing through her body. The purity of her soul stunned him. This was what captured his heart. Not just the beautiful outer shell. Her strength, honesty, and bravery, her true self made him fall.

  Alexis wrapped her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing, wetting his shirt as she trembled against him. He held her close, reveled in her curves while stroking her back with his free hand.

  Her swollen eyes and blotchy face threatened his resolve, but nothing had changed. He still had to leave.

  Reign wiped her tears with his calloused thumb and brushed her wild hair behind her ears. His fingers swept along her wet cheeks. He kissed her, wanting to brand his memory into her. Her lips opened for him, welcomed him inside. She sank into him, molded her body to his, and instead, seared her memory into his heart. To the end of time, in his darkest hour, he would remember her touch, the jasmine scent of her skin, her soft lips pressed against his and the passion between them. Regret flooded him as he ended their embrace with a kiss on her salty cheeks. Leaving her would break his heart.

  “Alexis…I—”

  “Don't you ever do that to me again!” she hissed and pushed him away.

  To her? “Explain to me what I have done to you when you nearly ended my life?” One moment she was crying, the next she wanted his blood.

  Her eyes narrowed and her lips compressed into an angry line. A dangerous finger pointed toward his chest and he wondered what she planned on doing with it. “You. Died…almost.”

  “You almost killed me.”

  “You left me no choice!” She stomped away and picked up her gun and the glove carrying the bracelet. “I couldn’t let you kill any more of them. They're not animals.” She stuffed the glove carrying the bracelet into her bosom, and then checked her gun and clip.

  Was she still blind to their presence? “That is precisely what they are.”

  “No, look.” The mist parted as she marched toward where the beast lay. Reign cut her off and wouldn’t allow her to circumvent him. “Let me show you.”

  She grasped his free hand and tugged. He moved in front of her and led the way. The mist swirled and parted for them, revealing what he didn’t expect.

  A boy lay on the grass. Bruises covered his chest and abdomen from the pummeling Reign delivered. His eyes were dulled with pain but didn’t veer away from his gaze.
/>
  “It’s Dante Woodard, the brother of the boy in the garage.”

  The conversation returned to Reign.

  “Can you heal him?” She kneeled next to the man.

  Heal the enemy? To return and attack again? He yanked her away and raised his sword to finish his opponent. The Vanquished screamed their opinion between his ears. Their alternating seductive whispers and braying voices would allow nothing less than the complete annihilation of all foes. And neither would he.

  “No!” She threw herself at him.

  He caught her. The feel of her body thrashing against him, her voice pleading for the life of another when their lives hung in the balance, angered him. He faded and she passed through him. His sword turned crimson as he raised it for the killing blow.

  “Reign, don’t, please!” She pounded on his back and tried to throw him off balance. Part of him wanted to humor her, give her all of her desires, but this was too dangerous to indulge.

  Kill it. Kill the beast. Let none live. The Vanquished chanted and goaded him. Their urgings more in control than his will. He pictured Alexis immobile and watched as her hands dropped to her sides. Her astonishment didn’t last as her tongue lashed him with angry words.

  He stood over the wounded quimaera, watching the animal shift from human to beast. His blade slid smoothly into the scaly abdomen and ignited everything it touched. When the flames ended nothing remained, not even crushed grass.

  The weight of all the souls slammed into him. Reign dropped to his knees. His sanity clung to the edge of a precipice. Above him, black earth, dead grass, and ash filled skies. Below, nothing. A ledge appeared on the side of the cliff and somehow his soul climbed onto it. The ledge gave him a slight reprieve from madness.

  “You killed him.” Her ragged whisper reached him louder than the hurled words a moment ago.

  “I did what needed to be done. Protect you,” he snarled. Fury hummed through him. Anger, sweet and hot burned through all reason.

  “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “Alexis, Reign is correct. That thing was no longer a man, no humanity remained in him. He had to die.” Mrs. Kelly joined them.

  “You don’t know that! He, he had a family, a brother who needed him. He shouldn’t have died like this on a fucking golf course in the suburbs without even a bloodstain to say he was here. They don’t even have a body to bury.” She closed her eyes and hung her head. Hair cascaded forward, shielding her from him. But then she lifted her head. Her eyes, so dark in the moonlight, sent a chill through his blood right down to his core.

  “Release me,” she ordered.

  “No.” He labored to his feet, staggering under the weight of the Vanquished. The collective fury spiked his blood. Instead of finding solace with Alexis, her anger fed his. A cold fury settled around him. He was a warrior. He answered to none and tolerated no one opposing his will. He would not bow to a woman.

  “Stay with her,” he commanded Mrs. Kelly and flashed to the remaining corpses. He wouldn’t leave them where they lay. This world had many rules. The first: leave no body behind for the authorities to find.

  He found each one in their human form, sprawled on the golf course. In death, one would never guess they were quimaera, aberrations stalking the earth. Perhaps Alexis was correct. His thoughts clouded, stoking his anger.

  When he returned, her cold demeanor and hate-filled eyes hadn’t changed. Mrs. Kelly waited a few steps away, out of the line of fire. Wise woman. He recalled the energy binding Alexis and prepared himself for the onslaught. She didn’t look at him or acknowledge his presence. Alexis marched past him and headed toward the clubhouse.

  “Alexis,” he called to her retreating back, though he didn’t chase her. They both knew exactly how far she would get. At one hundred feet, the tether yanked him in front of her, blocking her way. He reached for her.

  “Don’t!” She slapped his hand and moved away.

  “I will not apologize for doing what is necessary.”

  “You enjoyed it.” Finally, she looked at him, though he almost rather she didn’t. Grim-faced, her flat, dead eyes accused him while her sensuous lips curled with disgust.

  “The killing, you loved every second. Here I was worried, thinking you needed me, when the only thing you needed was your shiny sword. But not having that didn’t stop you. Stripped of your powers, even an Egyptian relic didn’t stop you. You weren’t even angry. You were…efficient. Mechanical. It didn’t cross your mind what you were doing, only that it get done. However they ended up, they were once human. Maybe there was another way.”

  “There was no other way. I did what was necessary to save you and your family from a rampaging army. Now you accuse me of murder,” he snarled. His vision tunneled until all he saw was Alexis. “Would you accuse me still if your father had died defending your family against these beasts? Or would your spilled blood be your requirement for justice?”

  The hardness in her eyes softened a bit and she sucked in a slow breath. “Justice against one, not wholesale slaughter. But that’s what a warrior does, right? In the end, they were still human and didn’t deserve to be slaughtered.” She inhaled sharply and continued. “No jail can keep you, so I can’t even arrest you, keep you from killing anyone else. You’re indestructible.” Wearily, her shoulders slumped and she raised her lowered gaze to his. “They’re all dead and every trace is gone. But the wreckage caused here will remain. Go. I don’t want you near me.”

  Could she be correct?…No, she wasn’t. They were monsters to be destroyed—but even if she were right—even if something human remained, they couldn’t be controlled. Anger he could accept, but the regret in her eyes, with revulsion and horror mixed in, scared him. Maybe he should have listened to her and not let the Vanquished goad him into this.

  Was it the Vanquished? Or did he do this of his own accord? Could she be right? Once again his thoughts twisted. An ache throbbed in his head.

  “I said go, Reign.”

  Leave? Not until every quimaera lay dead would he go. “There are more of them out there in the warehouse, waiting to be activated and killed.”

  “I know. I’ll contact Roman. Maybe after I explain the situation he’ll help me save them, instead of butchering human beings.”

  “You turn to my brother for help?” He laughed, a harsh sound even to his own ears. “You foolish woman. He will do the same as I would,” he sneered and leaned closer to her. “You will obey me.”

  “Or what?” she whispered. “What will you do when I don’t? Kill me?”

  Reign shuddered at the thought, some of his anger drained. “I would never harm you.”

  A sad smile curled her lips. “I don’t know that. Worse, you don't know that.” She sucked in a deep breath. “The police should be here any second. You’ve cleaned up your handiwork. No trace of evidence left. But there are witnesses. Maybe they’ll believe some of what I tell them. Maybe I won't spend the rest of my life in jail. So you can leave. Go back to your goddess.” She turned and walked away from him. Her shoulders tight, her back stiff. Mrs. Kelly gave him a sorrowful glance before following Alexis.

  Her words ripped a hole in his chest. Moments ago, he was about to lay his soul bare, tell her everything that his heart felt. Now, bitterness marinated in his blood, polluting his heart. He’d been a lackey to one woman for two thousand years. He wasn’t about to do it again. So why couldn’t he take his eyes from her rigid back? Why couldn’t he turn away, as she had done, and leave? He should rejoice. This was what he needed to keep her safe. Instead, with each step she took away from him, the hole in his heart widened.

  He accepted the torment. Let its razor edge cut into him until nothing remained but the widening ache.

  Darkness called, wanting its due. His thoughts turned muddy, chaotic.

  If I cannot have her…

  Reign blinked. For a precious second, he didn’t know where he was or why he had faded. His tumbled thoughts refused to allow him to focus on anything bu
t his sword, clasped in a bruising grip, raised above his head, poised to strike. The blade screeched a woeful song between his ears.

  His confusion melted, leaving stark clarity. He was about to slay the only good thing in his life. Why, when he’d never hurt a woman in his entire life? Why now would violence override his protective instinct toward the one person he would protect at all cost?

  Yards away, Alexis marched, steadily increasing the distance between them. He thanked the gods she hadn’t turned and seen him. Not that it mattered. After how he treated her, she had every right to leave.

  “Alexis, please…” He scrubbed a trembling hand across the back of his neck and prayed she would give him a chance to apologize.

  Mrs. Kelly kept walking while Alexis stopped. Half turned, her profile showed a single wet cheek.

  A flash of light illuminated the night. A shock wave slammed into him, lifted, and flung him across the field. He tumbled, feet over head and face planted in the grass. He sprung to his feet. Fury washed over him, bringing the unmistakable aura that always encompassed the Goddess of the Dead.

  Panic gripped him. She could not be here! Reign squinted into the receding light to where Alexis last stood. He spotted her on her knees, doubled over, and grasping her head. Her face contorted in agony. He shouted her name. She turned to him. Her eyes were thin slits, her features twisted. He stepped toward her and was flattened onto the grass. Energy hummed around him.

  Get. Up. The blade sang. The Vanquished roared, but he couldn’t budge, though he quivered and strained against an unseen power. Time stretched while he fought a silent battle to move one muscle, then ten, then one hundred. Finally, he pushed back the energy pinning him and climbed to his knees. He raised his head and saw a whirling vortex between him and Alexis, who was sprawled unconscious on the grass. At the other end, Nephythys waited in all her regal glory. Her lips moved in a silent chant while her frigid gaze pinned him. Alexis rose and floated toward the swirling opening—and doom.