“Alexis, are you injured?” Gently, he tapped her face.
“I’m fine, and so are you. Sweetheart, there are no vanquished. I don’t think there ever were.” On her feet again, she processed the effects of deep sifting for the first time.
Reign pressed his fingers against his temple and gave his head a vicious shake.
“Whenever I’ve touched you all I have ever sensed, is you. Nothing else. I suspect Mrs. Kelly didn’t sense them either ‘cause she certainly wouldn’t have held her tongue,” Alexis said.
He scrubbed a hand across his face and grew distant.
“Do you believe me?”
Seconds stretched in silence between them. “When I think back to my first encounter with my demons, your words seem credible. My weakness manifested the Vanquished.”
“Reign Nicolis, there is nothing weak about you. You are strong and your heart is good. Whatever happens, we’re in this together. Understand? Because I don’t want to live without you.”
Hope lurked within the depths of his blue eyes. But then he shook his head. “You do not know what you are saying. Roman and the Pantheon hate us. Nephythys will kill you and SET is free to leave Chemmis and wreak havoc where he wills. Danger surrounds you because of me. That I cannot accept.” The desperation in his voice tore her heart. He took her hand. “I will take you back to Mrs. Kelly and draw these forces away—
“I love you.”
He jerked as if slapped, as if the three words were body blows. “The Egyptians have declared war on me.” His nostrils flared and raw aggression rolled off him in waves. His eyes glowed neon.
In this moment, any lingering doubt about him being a demi-god, vanished. “You want this war?”
“They want it and I will not retreat,” he growled.
“I expect no less.” Alexis cupped his face and felt a shudder race through him. His hand gripped her hip.
“There is a place I can take you. A sanctuary created by Nu. You will be safe there.” His voice was strained, tight with need.
“Not without you. You can’t watch your back and your front and watch me from a distance. SET will stop at nothing to make you pay.” Just barely, she brushed her lips across his and trailed her tongue along his seam. “You need me.”
“Will you stand with me?” His hoarse voice told her more than his words.
She brought his head to hers, touching their foreheads together. “Always. Besides, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
“I love you with all that I have.” His voice broke on the last note.
“I know.” Alexis’s lips touched Reign’s. At first, a slight kiss, teasing a sigh from him. Then she lingered, kissing the man who had changed her world and stolen her heart. His arm banded around her waist and pulled her into the shelter of his big body as she wrapped herself around him. She slanted her lips across his and bound their souls in a moment that lasted forever.
Epilogue
Particles of flickering darkness, too small to see with the naked eye, floated in the evening air of the destroyed room. This was how Khuket began, as nothing more than glimmering randomness as the earth was formed.
She collected herself, gathered the particles together and slowly coalesced into a grayish, misshapen cloud and swept out of the smashed window. The wind battered her, tossing her about. She welcomed the chaotic dance and siphoned some of its kinetic energy to keep her alive long enough for her nourishment to return to Rockgate.
She didn’t have long to wait as she rested on the roof. Her prey exited the house and strolled into the backyard with his brothers. He was a fine specimen of male virility. Muscles bulged beneath his tattooed skin and added to his tasty aura. Tonight, she would feed. Tomorrow, Khuket would begin her revenge.
~~~~~~
Ready for the next installment of the Descendants of Ra series? Check out Evermore!
Thank you for reading Everlasting. The next book in the Descendants of Ra series is waiting for you. Evermore!
There’s no room in Avery Nicolis’s life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.
Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.
Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade. But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive...
And do not fall in love with him.
One-Click for Evermore
Chapter One
Emeline Gamble gave a sharp look around as she emerged from the subway. The staccato clip of her heels on the cement stairs announced her presence to anyone who cared to notice. Female. Single. At four a.m., an invitation for disaster. Theirs, not hers.
She walked down the dark block toward her house. Her breath curled in the cold air. She paid special attention to the shadowy corners and niches near her Harlem brownstone for someone brave enough to be stupid. In her right hand, her keys were threaded through her fingers, ready to use as a weapon or open her front door. Her left hand gripped a box cutter in the pocket of her wool jacket. A bit of extra protection as she returned home from her bartending job; plus, she liked to leave a scar, a permanent reminder to any attacker they messed with the wrong girl. Although, she wouldn’t mind putting some of her mixed martial arts training to use.
The third weekend in November, the temperature had plummeted to the twenties. New Yorkers were hardier than a little cold weather, yet the street had temporarily cleared. The last rays of an Indian summer had long since faded. Time for real coats, scarves, and gloves. She huddled in her coat, regretting her choice of fashion over function as a vicious wind whipped down the block and slammed into her.
Normally, she loved fall. The cooler weather brought a change in fashion. Sandals gave way to boots; spaghetti straps vanished in favor of turtlenecks, and down coats replaced cute jean jackets. A Thanksgiving baby, she relished all that the season meant, especially when the day fell on her birthday, as it would this year. Though, she wouldn’t be celebrating. Not this year. Not last year, either, or several previous years. Not much to celebrate anymore.
A bit of music flared from the bodega on the corner. The twenty-four-hour neighborhood mini-mart wasn’t the usual hub of activity. Mike, the local dealer, and his two boys exited the store. Dressed in the latest North Face gear and Timberland boots, they leaned against the wall, striking a menacing pose. Ever vigilant of his territory, Mike’s gaze swept over the area and did a double take when it came to her. She gave him a head’s up and a quick wave. Never good to piss off the local dealer. He whispered something to his boys. They laughed and walked away.
It’s like that now.
She’d lived on this block her entire life, partied with many who would remain nameless, and buried a few. They all knew her, had brawled with her, looked out for her, watched her back and her front, and whispered dirty words in her ear hoping for some quality time. Now, no one would speak to her.
Why?
Because she did the right thing. So be it. There were worse things in life than being labeled a snitch. As long as they didn’t cross the line into her personal space, everything would be fine.
Emeline hustled up the stairs to the townhouse. Three locks stood between her and safety. The middle one always stuck and had to be jiggled. Rusty hinges squealed when she pushed the door open. Her cheap burglar alarm worked just fine. A flick of th
e light switch on the wall illuminated the narrow hallway.
She closed the door, turned all the locks, and slid the chain across. Only then did the knot between her shoulders ease. A satisfying breath escaped as she listened to the steady drip of water in the downstairs bathroom, the whine of air whistling through the old window frames, and the faint drone of voices.
She sighed. “As expected. He left the TV on again.”
At 92 years old, her grandfather had earned the right to forget to turn off the television even if he didn’t pay the electric bill. She shrugged out of her coat, unwound the kente-patterned scarf from her neck, and dumped everything on the entryway bench. Then she kicked her heels off, not caring where they landed. Her feet ached from working behind a bar all night, and her skimpy uniform pinched under her jeans and sweater.
Emeline trudged down the hallway to the thermostat and nudged the lever up a few notches, then headed to the dining room. The TV was turned to TCM. Now Voyager, her favorite Bette Davis movie, gave the darkroom a gray wash. She glanced at the snoring body stretched out on the recliner. Grandpa Willy Gamble’s favorite spot. The blanket covered him from his nose down, so that all she could see was tuffs of white hair stubbornly clinging to the sides of his brown, balding head. She leaned down and checked his oxygen tank. The PSI was good. He had enough until his nurse came in the morning.
“Eme?” He pulled the covers away, coughed, and the nasal cannula slipped out of his nostrils.
She adjusted the tube and stroked his leathery cheek. He took her hand in a strong grip. She rubbed his arthritic knuckles. “I’m home.”
“I stayed up waiting for you.” His grin took years off his face and further crinkled the corners of his once hazel, now milky eyes.
She chuckled. “Yes, you did.” Living with her grandfather was like having a toddler underfoot. He needed constant care. “What time did the nurse leave?”
“Don’t need a babysitter.” He groused.
“I said nurse.” She had to pick her words carefully around him.
“Same thing.” He snatched his hand away.
No use arguing with him when he was in this mood. She glanced at his made bed on the other side of the room. “Are you staying in the recliner or do you want me to help you get into the bed?”
He picked up the remote. That gave her his answer. Too stubborn and too damn independent. The traits applied to both of them.
“Do you need anything?”
“If I do, I can get it myself.”
“Okay, Grand.” Emeline peeked at his feet to make sure he had on his rubber-soled socks and that his cane was in reach for a trip to the bathroom or foray to the kitchen. She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to sleep.” Right after she ate the rest of her leftover Chinese food. She crossed the dining room and turned on the baby monitor secreted behind a potted plant, then made her way to the kitchen.
She didn’t need light as she padded her way across the cold wooden floor to the refrigerator. Leftover shrimp lo mein and dumplings waited for her, plus a cold Amber Bock hidden behind a head of lettuce made for a well-balanced meal. The fridge door squeaked as she opened it; seemed like everything in the house protested with a noisy outburst.
A pint of low-fat milk, a week past fresh, Egg Beaters, a six-pack of Ensure, withered lettuce, some Kraft Singles, and an aluminum tin from Meals On Wheels claimed sections of the refrigerator. And in the middle where she had left them, no beer and no Chinese takeout.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and was momentarily stunned. Someone had the nerve to break into her home. In a blink, she grabbed a knife from the butcher’s block. The slight whoosh of metal scraping wood reverberated in the room and boosted her resolve.
She clutched the cool metal handle and listened. How many were here? The refrigerator compressor kicked on, chugging. She couldn’t hear a damn thing over the fifteen-year-old fridge, but closing the door would cut off her only light source. Not flipping the switch before entering the room had been stupid. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. She had promised to never use those three words. Like a fair-weather friend, here they were again.
One hand on the door, she reached for the light. Her fingers fell short. She darted across the distance to the wall. Her elbow knocked into the microwave at just the right angle, striking her funny bone. There was nothing humorous about the numbing tingle streaking to her fingers. The knife slipped, almost fell from her weakened grasp. When had she become this clumsy?
Emeline flipped the switch. The wiring in the house was ancient and erratic. Dangerous, the electrician told her last year, but college tuition came before rewiring the home. The old light fixture hummed and blinked a few times, giving her glimpses of her female visitor.
“Hello, Emeline.”
“Ridley?” Surprised, Emeline lowered the blade and waited for her unexpected guest to speak.
“The Order needs you to return.” Feet propped up on the vinyl cushion of the nearest chair, Ridley shoveled a forkful of lo mein into her mouth. Dressed in skin-tight, blood-red leather from head to toe, she came ready for war. A year had passed since Emeline last saw Ridley’s face. Friendly, but not friends, their paths often intersected. Though the last time Emeline had seen her, Ridley was getting cozy with the elders.
Ridley’s arrogant attitude hadn’t changed. She couldn’t blame that on her new associations with the ruling council. The cropped platinum blonde hair and dramatic makeup were a change from the shoulder-length tresses and plain face Emeline remembered.
“Return to the Order? Not happening. You broke into my home to tell me this? I paid my phone bill, so why not a call?” Something was wrong besides Ridley’s ass perched on Emeline’s dinette chair, chowing down on her leftovers. “Does Mrs. Kelly know you're here?”
“Margie Kelly has retired. The Order has taken a new direction. I’m in charge.”
Margie had been in charge forever. Literally. Her firm but gentle guidance had made the Order a home. Even though Emeline had to leave, Margie had been there for her. Ridley had never appreciated the old woman. In fact, she resented her. “So you finally managed the coup you’d always planned. How’d that happen?”
“Just an orderly changing of the guard.” Ridley shrugged. “I have a job for you.”
“I quit. Remember?” Emeline had to admit Ridley looked good, deadly, while in the interim, Emeline had grown soft taking care of her grandfather and snacking on everything.
They’d fought before in training sessions. The combination of Ridley’s speed and Emeline’s strength had each claiming victory. Six months out of practice and Emeline wasn’t so sure she could beat Ridley anymore. Would it come to that impasse?
“It’s a lifelong membership. You know that. One may leave, but never quit. You quit when you die.”
Or when we kill you, was the unwritten caveat the new recruits joked. The Order was secretive, not deadly—until now? If she refused, would she be Ridley’s first example of comply or else?
Emeline thought of her grandfather and braced for attack. This was going to hurt, but she hadn’t gone completely soft. Ridley would not win.
“Don’t you even want to know why I’m here in your lovely home?” Ridley waved at the faded décor and worn appliances. “You used to be curious. Has living an ordinary life done this to you?” She shook her head and pursed her lips.
Stay calm. Letting Ridley goad her into a confrontation would be bad, especially with Grand in the house. “What do you want?”
Ridley dropped the fork back into the take-out box and pushed away from the table. She stood, made a show of rising to her full height which surpassed Emeline by a few inches. “Avery Nicolis.”
His image flashed in Emeline’s mind. Big, bad, dangerous. He had the hardest face she’d ever seen. Eyes like chipped pieces of jade, a cruel mouth that never smiled, and a reddish buzz-cut that barely kept him from being bald. Still, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Just hearing his name caused a wicked pulse in her g
roin.
“We need you to bring him in,” Ridley continued.
No effing way. “Since when did the mission change from watching the Nicolis family to interacting with them?” she said.
“Since right now.” Ridley folded her arms beneath her small breasts and widened her stance.
Emeline’s brain scrambled for a rational explanation and came up blank. “What do you want with him?”
“Need-to-know basis.” Ridley’s expressionless face gave nothing away.
In other words, none of Emeline’s damn business. Fine. “Why me? I turned all of my data over to Diane months ago. If you need something, go to her.”
“You stalked Avery for six months…and for ten days during the summer, he stalked you.”
Emeline gasped and struggled to quell the urge to run to the farthest corner of the globe. “I’ve had a trained killer on my tail and the Order decides to tell me now?” She clutched the knife tighter to keep from throwing it. How did I miss this? Preoccupied with the Order, work, Grand, and bills, she—one of the best watchers—failed to notice Avery Nicolis had her in his crosshairs. Why had he done this? Revenge? Some sick plan of torture? If that was the case, why had he stopped? His file detailed his multiple assignments in the States and abroad. He killed with cool efficiency. Never broke a sweat, leaving a body only when he wanted to send a message. The rest were gone; erased from the face of the earth summed up their disposal.
“It served our needs not to tell you.” Ridley smirked. “Because of him, the Order ceased all surveillance on the Nicolis’s, but that has changed. We have a chance to take things in a new direction.”
To hell with their new direction. “Why was he stalking me? Does he know about the Order?”
“Don’t know and it doesn’t matter why answers the first question, and no to the second,” Ridley said.
Everlasting (Descendants of Ra: Book 2) Page 37
