Knox’s limbs stretch and shrink. The fur disappears, and his bones realign. I thought the sight would be frightening, but it’s oddly beautiful.
Within a few seconds, Knox is crouched on the floor. I can see his wide shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his back and legs. When he looks up, his ice-blue eyes lock with mine. “Thanks for seeing my wolf.”
“You’re welcome. Your wolf is sweet.”
“He likes you too.”
A long pause follows in which I try not to keep staring at how ripped Knox is. I’m not sure I do a good job.
Knox is the one who breaks the silence. “Hey, I gotta…” He looks at me as if the rest of his thought is obvious.
“You gotta what?”
“Change, Bryar.”
My mind isn’t working so well for some reason. Too many muscles, maybe. “You want to change into a wolf?”
“No, into my clothes.” A sly look brightens the hard lines of his face. “So unless you want to watch…”
“I got it. No problem.” I quickly turn around. A swish of fabric and more zipper noises follow. This time, I’m not standing in the right position for the monitors to let me cheat and take a peep, though. That shouldn’t make me as sad as it does.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“Really? It’s only been a few seconds.” I turn around, and sure enough, Knox is totally dressed. I guess being a werewolf makes you an expert at this kind of situation.
“So, now you get the answers I promised you, yeah?”
I hug my elbows. “The truth about the Denarii.”
“That’s the stuff. It’s easier if I show you than tell you. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Not at all. Still, this is something I need to know, so I mentally pull up my big-girl panties and meet Knox’s gaze head-on. “Absolutely.”
“Then let’s go.”
As Knox and I head out the door, I get the feeling like I’m passing across a different kind of threshold. Behind me, there is the Bryar Rose who didn’t know what the Denarii really were. In the near future, there will be Bryar-the-badass who has faced something terrible. I force my breathing to slow.
I can do this. I have to.
Chapter Twelve
Bryar Rose
Knox and I take the employee elevator to the basement. After that, he shows me to an old broom closet. He opens the door and gestures for me to walk inside. I give him the stink eye.
“That’s a broom closet.”
“No, it’s not. There’s an elevator in there.”
“Are you sure? I hacked up the architectural plans on this building myself. There’s no elevator in this spot.”
Knox gives me another lopsided smile. “Hacked up? Is that a real phrase? I mean, unless you’re a cat.”
“Ha-ha. I’m serious.” I set my fists on my hips. “I am not walking into a sketchy broom closet with you, even if you are handsome.”
Crap, I said that out loud, didn’t I?
His black brows jet up. “So, I’m handsome, yeah?”
I’d face-palm myself if it wouldn’t make things worse. “You know you are.”
Knox chuckles all low and sexy-like, which is super-distracting. “Okay, fine. Get closer. I’ll show you.”
I take what can only be described as mincing steps to stand in the doorway. I prop the door open with my shoulder as Knox strides inside and flicks on the light switch. The room is a small concrete box filled with mops, buckets, and brooms. Knox steps to the back of the space where the far wall is lined with cleaning supplies. Gripping the wooden frame, he heaves the shelves to one side. They slide away with ease. It reminds me of those haunted house movies where you pull on a wall sconce and a secret passageway appears.
I lean in closer. “What’s back there, exactly?”
Knox flips another switch, and an ancient lightbulb flickers on, revealing what looks like an old-fashioned elevator inside the wall. Huh. I definitely didn’t know that existed, and Elle and I have been snooping around this particular building for ages. I take a few tentative steps into the broom closet. Sure enough, there’s definitely an elevator in here. It’s one of those ancient thingies with a gate for a door.
“The elevator leads to the basement. What I need to show you is there.”
“That doesn’t sound sketchy.”
“Trust me, if there was an easier way to do this, I’d take it.” Knox hauls the gate open and gestures past it. “Are you still in?”
“Sure.” I tiptoe around the maze of buckets and brooms until I reach what was once the back wall. I stare into the small elevator. This thing is an ancient and dusty mess. When was the last time anyone inspected this monstrosity? Or even cleaned it? My stomach gets all flooey. It’s like I’m riding a Ferris wheel at top speed. I may be a little afraid of falling. Elle says I’m a wimp when it comes to heights. I always tell her I’m wise and cautious about vertically challenging situations.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask.
“I’m pretty sure it isn’t. Why? Are you scared?”
That pushes my buttons in a big way. I refuse to let anything stop me from discovering the truth, even if that something is a scary-ass elevator that looks like it was assembled with Popsicle sticks and glue. “Not at all.” I stride inside. The elevator rocks wildly the second my heels touch the floor. Grabbing onto the dusty metal grid that serves as the elevator’s walls, I let out a very unladylike “Yipes.”
“The floor wobbles,” says Knox.
“You think?” I’m grabbing onto the metal grid so tightly, it’s cutting off circulation to my fingertips.
“Don’t worry. This won’t take long.” Knox steps into the elevator and pulls the accordion-style doorway shut.
Nothing in this thing is solid metal. The grid-like walls seem about as sturdy as a chain-link fence. And that door looks like it could crumple any second. My pulse races. Knox starts pulling on some levers along the ceiling, and the elevator lurches to life. I’m not going to lie; at this point, I freak out like a total sissy.
Without even thinking about it, I wrap my arms around Knox’s waist, bury my nose in his neck, and squeeze my eyes shut. “Tell me when it’s over.”
He lets out a rumbling chuckle. “I will.”
A few seconds pass during which I dig my nails into Knox’s back. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“We’re, uh, stuck.”
Something about his words just smell off to me, although I can’t imagine why I’m smelling sentences. “You’re totally lying.”
“Well, yeah.” He wraps his right arm around me, resting his heavy palm on the small of my back.
Uh-oh. I’m in a broom-closet-elevator thing with Knox. My body is pressed against his very firm and super-rugged self. Worst of all, he smells unbelievably amazing. I try to firm up my resolve. This is the part where I tell him he’s a jerk and I step away.
Maybe I slap him on the cheek like in an old-time movie.
Or, I could at least yell at him to start the stupid elevator again.
But I do none of those things. Standing here and being held really is simply way too nice.
Knox lowers his left arm from the levers in the ceiling. His fingertips brush along my jawline while his thumb runs across my lower lip. My insides flip-flop at his touch, and it’s not necessarily a bad feeling.
Little by little, Knox guides my face upward so I’m no longer nuzzling his neck, but staring into his eyes. He has these ice-blue irises. I never noticed before, but there’s a lot of gold in them as well.
“I want to kiss you, Bry.” His voice is a deep rasp that’s so strong I feel it in my chest, too.
I try to think of something romantic and magical to say. After all, I’m pretty sure I’m about to have my first kiss. It feels like there should be some ceremony. Instead, all I can think about is how Knox has a really yummy-looking mouth. So all my plans for verbal fireworks go out the window.
I only whisper a single word. “Okay.”
Our lips meet in the barest touch. Excitement zings through me. I fist the fabric of Knox’s T-shirt. Someone growls, and I think it might be me, which is super-weird. Although I’ve never done this before, so maybe growling is totally normal. I could not care less either way because now we’re both opening our mouths as we move past the gentle brushing stuff. I’m not going to lie. It feels amazing. Knox angles my head, and I go with his lead. His tongue licks along my bottom lip, and my knees turn wobbly beneath me.
For the record, I really wish I had started kissing earlier in life. Because if this is what I’ve been missing out on? I’m downright nuts. Some kind of connection forms between us. It’s so intense it could even be supernatural. My blood heats in ways I never imagined.
A voice echoes up through the elevator shaft below our feet. “Knoxie, poxie, my sweetest little doxie.”
I break the kiss. “What was that?”
Knox shifts his stance, moving until our foreheads lean together. “Sorry about him.”
The nasal voice sounds again. “Knoxes, boxes, munch, and scrunch. Who is coming to bring me lunch?” That’s a grown man, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s also very, very insane.
“Let me try again. Who is that?”
“He’s who I’m bringing you to see.” Knox raises his arm to grab another lever in the ceiling. He brushes a gentle kiss across my mouth. “Sorry we got cut off.” He stares at the floor. “I didn’t realize Reggie was awake.” Knox yanks down on a lever, and with a lurch, we start to descend.
“Where does this elevator go?” As the words leave my mouth, I realize that was maybe a better question before I got into the elevator in the first place.
“Sub-basement. It’s where we keep our resident Denarii.”
“Reggie?”
“That’s the one.”
The elevator floor shimmies beneath my feet as we descend even lower. “Why is he down here?”
“I’ll let him explain. It’s easier that way.”
The elevator stops with a thud. Knox turns to me. “Whatever you do, don’t get too close to his cage, yeah?”
I nod, mostly because my throat closed up at the mention of the word “cage.” Am I right that there’s a Denarii person down here who’s locked up, possibly against his will? What exactly have I gotten myself into?
Knox takes my hand and leads me out of the elevator and into a long corridor with doors on either side. No, these aren’t doors. They all have bars over them. These are cells.
“What exactly is this place?”
“Are you bringing me a girl, Knoxie? Girly, twirly, pretty little swirly.”
“Can it, Reggie.” Knox turns to me. “This used to be an underground prison back in the 1900s. Technically, the city closed it down. But Alec’s family cleaned it out and built an elevator to it. That happened some time in the 1930s.”
“That long ago?”
“Warlocks and witches live for a long while. Alec’s parents didn’t start a family until they were well over a hundred.”
“But their bios online say they’re both only in their forties.”
“Yeah, well. Let’s just say that’s not exactly accurate.” Knox glances at me over his shoulder. “You aren’t the only one with criminal skills, Bry.”
I shrug. “It makes sense, actually. Changing your birthday and life history isn’t a big deal, so long as you have the money for a good hacker and forger.” I try to ignore the fact that the muscles in my back are bunching up with fear. This Reggie guy sounds terrifying.
Knox stops in front of one of the cells. “And here we are.”
The place is a prison cell like all the others. A single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling and illuminates a pool of brightness on the center of the stone floor. A figure sits in the shadows just beyond the circle of light. Reggie. All I can see of the guy are his shiny wingtip oxfords.
Wait a second. Oxfords?
“Come on out, Reggie,” orders Knox. “And no singing.”
“If you insist.” There’s a long squeal as Reggie’s metal chair slides behind him. He stands up and strides toward the wall of metal bars that mark the edge of his cell. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I don’t know what I expected Reggie to look like, but this wasn’t it. The guy is wearing a three-piece suit made out of gray wool. It’s the high-waisted kind that was popular back in the 1950s. He’s topped off the look with a matching fedora. I take a half step backward.
He’s dressed just like Madame. They both could have fallen out of the same 1950s ad for toothpaste.
“I’m Reginald Winston the Second. Reggie to my friends.” He extends his hand through the bars.
Knox sets his palm on my stomach, guiding me farther toward the opposite wall and away from Reggie. “She’s not touching you.”
“Pity.” Reggie has that clean-cut mannequin-like quality, which also reminds me of Madame. He has brown hair, blue eyes, and skin that’s so porcelain-smooth, it’s downright creepy. There are a few flecks of gray at his temples. “She looks delicious.”
“She’s here to find out what you Denarii are. Nothing more.”
“Is that all? Well, most Denarii are fine, upstanding citizens.”
“You’re not, and you know it.”
“I won’t say a word.”
Knox’s voice lowers to a growl. “Then you don’t eat.”
“You’re a beast.”
“Absolutely.”
“Fine.” Reggie rolls his eyes. “If you insist. I was born Regius Paullus Agrippa, Lieutenant of the Aegypti Legion. I served under none other than Julius Caesar.” He gives me a toothpaste-fresh smile. “Does that surprise you?”
My mind whirls at this information. “You’ve been alive for two thousand years.”
“Correct.”
“No, that doesn’t totally surprise me.”
He half lowers his eyelids in a move that says he thinks I’m full of crap. “And why is that?”
“Julius Caesar burned the library at Alexandria. That’s where the only full copies of the Book of Magic was stored. Whatever is keeping you alive for so long, it must have to do with the spells in that book.”
“Quite right. You’re not as infantile as you look.”
Knox bares his teeth. “Watch it, Reggie.”
My curiosity about this situation seems to overpower any fear about who Reggie is. It certainly short circuits any worries about him insulting me. I give Knox’s forearm a pat. Touching him feels so natural I don’t even think twice about it. “It’s okay, Knox.” I refocus on Reggie. “Were you with Caesar when he burned the library down?”
“Yes, and together, we saved the Book of Magic.”
I straighten my shoulders. Here comes the big question. My skin prickles with gooseflesh. “How exactly have you stayed alive so long?”
“That is the mystery, isn’t it? The answer was in those papyri. Julius had to torture the priests for hours to get them to translate it for us. It was all hidden in code and special hieroglyphs. Coding, boding, hiding, and reloading.”
“Enough, Reggie,” warns Knox. “Just answer her question.”
Reggie grins, showing a mouth of inhumanly perfect teeth. “If I could have answered that, I would have already. Truth is, I don’t know how the process of immortality works. I just know that it does. I wasn’t awake when they did it to me.”
My fear comes back with a vengeance. My pulse thumps so hard I feel it in my skull. “What did they do to you?”
“It’s easier if I show you.” Reggie tips his hat to Knox. “Do I have your permission?”
“Ask her,” snarls Knox.
Reggie resets his hat and turns to me. “I’ll need to remove my jacket and shirt to show you. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, it’s fine.” I’m proud of how calm my voice sounds, because inside? My fight-or-flight response has kicked in, big–time.
“Then I shall show you.” With calm movements, Reggie slips off his jacket and matching vest. After that, he loosens
his tie, unbuttons the top of his shirt, and pulls them both over his head. With that done, Reggie steps right under the light and lifts his arms wide. “Behold my perfection!”
I set my hand over my mouth to hide my gag reflex. I’ve seen chest wounds like his before. The zigzag incisions are unique to a certain kind of mummy-making from ancient Egypt. I always thought that only the priests of Isis made cuts like these, but I could never be one hundred percent certain.
Not until now, that is.
Images appear in my mind: the coded message from the papyri that I translated today.
Living forever as a mortal, only in mummy form.
And this guy is doing just that.
“You’re a mummy.” My words come out as a whisper.
“Yes, I underwent the process back in 48 AD.” He touches his various body parts as he speaks. “I’ve no heart, stomach, or lungs.” He taps his temple. “My brains are gone as well, at least in physical form.”
Enough of my researcher instinct is left that I don’t scream and run. “So, how are you alive?”
“I should think that’s obvious.” An evil smile rounds his mouth. “But if you can’t guess, I’ll tell you.”
With that, my researcher instinct dies a quick death. That creepy smile is all I need to know, really. I raise my hand in the universal sign for shut up. “You know what? I’ll pass.”
But Reggie keeps right on going. “I must consume organs from someone else. Preferably another human. An animal will do in a pinch, however.”
Yuck, yuck, a thousand times yuck.
I turn to Knox. “Is this true?”
“I’m afraid so, yeah.” He sets his hand on the back of my neck. The touch is warm and centering. “Is this too much? Want to go?”
My head is spinning, but I don’t feel an episode coming on, so it seems safe enough for now. Plus, if I leave here? I’m not sure I’ll ever come back and ask more questions. Best to get it all done now. I make myself look at the living mummy again. “Why are you here?”
Wolves and Roses Page 12
