Immortal Dynasty

by Lynda Haviland

  Again, pain gripped his heart. He hated the idea of leaving his grandfather behind. He knew Papa was there. Lilith had confirmed it. Shouts bellowed from inside the estate. Men poured out of the entrance, spurred by some commotion.

  Darius was out of time, but he took a moment to look back at the woman on the floor. She would help him, or she’d make a great bargaining chip. Either way, he vowed he would get his grandfather back.

  Just before turning out of the alley, Darius took one last glance in his rearview mirror. Therion was running out of the house. A roar of rage thundered across the cobblestones. Darius smiled broadly for the first time in days. After twenty years, life came full circle. Darius had finally taken something special away from his childhood bully.

  A few blocks away from the Troy Estate, his earpiece buzzed faintly. He could hear Marcus’ scratchy voice. “Dare? Can you hear me?”

  “Tell me you saw all of that.”

  “All of what? Everything went black not long after you had to hide.”

  Darius drove the van across the new bridge over to Cambridge. “Meet me at the house just like we planned. I have to ditch this van first.”

  “Did you find Papa Shadi? Did you get him?”

  “Well, no.” Darius gulped down a lump of regret. He glanced at the reflection in the rearview mirror. Her unconscious form jostled limply with the motion of the van. “But I have a huge surprise for you, and it’s better than any of those dusty old bones you like to dig up.” Way better.

  *

  “Who did this, Mother?” Her son’s anger bellowed through the halls. “I know you can see these things. Who stole her from me?”

  Lilith stepped away from the path that Therion was quickly wearing into the floor with his pacing. “Calm yourself. Your anxiety is interrupting my—”

  “Oh, cut the karma mojo crap!”

  Flame burst bright and hot above her palm. She would go to the Underworld before taking such condescension from him. Therion halted his disruptive pacing.

  Dousing the flame, she crossed the room and pointed to the funerary boat display. “Here. He lay here, watching us.” It was a man. The trail was weak, but not too weak for her to miss the feel of masculine energy.

  “Who?” Shards of crystal crunched under his boots.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you know?”

  “It’s not someone I’ve ever met. He left a trace amount of energy here in this spot.” For emphasis, she toed the area behind the boat. Dust clung to the tips of her sandals. “Negative energy. Anger. Hatred, maybe.”

  “If you can feel him, why can you not tell who it is?”

  “I have tried. I cannot read his energy trail. It’s gone.” She shook her head. It aggravated her that she couldn’t see the owner of such a virile energy stream. Another possibility occurred to her. “Or he has masked his trail.”

  “I will rip his heart out and feed it to the demons.” Therion reached for a vase. Lilith barely grabbed his arm in time. He was worse than a bull in a china shop. He was an enraged bull with his sac cinched…in a china shop. This was not going well.

  “I can’t believe that nobody saw this man. In broad daylight, he just waltzes in and out with a large statue. Incredible.”

  “Or brilliant.” Lilith rubbed up and down his arms, trying to soothe his agitated spirit. She needed him calm so she could think. “The chaos around here provided excellent cover. Hide in a large group. Everybody is too busy to notice details.”

  “Why would someone steal her?” He sneered. “I mean, look around. You have hundreds of items of much greater value and much easier to run off with.” A wave of his hand indicated the wealth around them.

  She knew he was right. However, of all the pieces in her collection, that statue was unique. It was all that was left of a special tomb discovered many years ago.

  The thief’s energy finally faded from the room. She shuddered with the chill it left behind. The warmth she’d felt before was born of old hatred. She believed that memories served to guide one’s soul. She had bitter memories too.

  Being born of a mother from a weaker bloodline had relegated Lilith to the position of being a handmaiden to Inanna, her beautiful half-sister who was the pride of their kind. Her birth had another curse to it. As the daughter of the Lady of the Underworld, she’d been a highly sought-after consort for information…and for pleasure. Rutting pigs!

  No, she would not miss that statue. Its image of Inanna’s daughter had been a constant reminder of where she came from. She hated those memories. Yet, they also served to keep her focused on finding the amulet that contained Therion’s immortal spirit. The key to unlocking the powers he was born with. They had ripped the spirit from Therion’s soul even before she’d given birth to him. All of it…was Inanna’s fault.

  Hatred? It was a powerful ally. A sustaining force. Lilith could think of none in this time that hated her. Since she’d been freed from her immortal prison more than thirty years ago, life in this new world had been wonderful. She had earned success and money, and best of all, the humans adored her.

  She didn’t understand why, but she knew the statue had been of significant value to Therion. He had earned many enemies in his lifetime, but none that would be connected to the statue.

  Lilith sucked in a quick breath. “The old man’s grandson.”

  “Darius? That makes no sense. If rumors are true, he has the skills to do it. But, if he had gone through the trouble to sneak in here, he wouldn’t have run off with a statue. The little thief would have been here to find the old man. Darius would never have left without him.”

  She didn’t agree. The anger the thief had left behind felt almost violent. Male antagonism that she was now convinced was directed at her son.

  At the mere mention of Darius Alexander, her son’s aura would flare hot with malice. He hated Darius. She wondered if the feeling was mutual.

  “It is an odd item to try to fence. Whoever has it may try the black market.”

  “I will know if they do.” Lilith rejoined Therion by the empty platform. “There is no provenance for that statue. There is nothing to lead back to us.” Which made her think again of the old man in a coma downstairs. She knew very little about Shadiki Aria, but he’d been asking a lot of unusual questions about her collection.

  “Why would I care about that?”

  Lilith rubbed her temples. Men could be so obtuse sometimes. She realized that he had no clue why it was so important to avoid entanglements with the Art Fraud Investigations department. She definitely wanted to remain off their radar screen, and especially now before the gala. She had too much to think about. A dull ache bloomed behind her eyes.

  “Because it would destroy your political aspirations.” She put her palms on his cheeks, but he brushed them aside.

  “They are already destroyed, Mother. Those political bastards changed my fate the day they forced my retirement from the army. I will make them pay for that. I should be General by now. I am too young and too powerful to be a retired Colonel.” He sucked in a deep breath, turned on his heel, and headed for the staircase.

  Lilith followed him to the library. He went straight to the liquor cart and poured a double shot of brandy. She watched his aura simmer down to a calmer shade as the liquor drained from the glass. “I wonder how much about us that old man knows.”

  “Your powers have been quite useful these past few days, Mother.”

  She ignored the sarcasm. “Whatever the old man knows…maybe he shared with Darius.” She deliberately stressed the name of his rival, and put on her most wicked of smiles. His aura burned red again as he slammed down his glass and refilled it.

  “You know the prophecy, Therion.”

  “Hocus pocus, bull shit. I leave it all to you.” He wrinkled his face from the spicy burn of the liquor. “You told me that the prophecy said that I, your son, will rise up and smite our enemies, bringing death and destruction to the world of humans. I would love to smit
e the leaders of the government for retiring me, but just because it was painted on a wall will not make it come true.”

  “Don’t mock my powers, Therion.”

  “Your powers are weak, Mother! There is nothing left of your kind. Those that are here are as weak as humans.”

  “I‘m not weak!”

  “You are alone. Your kind is scattered and leaderless. Now, there is only man. Men need power, and those beneath the powerful…pray. They pray to whoever gives them hope! I am not weak. I do not need to pray to anyone for help. I will rise up, Mother, and take back that which I earned with my blood. I conquered the world for those bastards. I cleared away the terrorist camps, and what did I get in return? They put me to pasture. Oh, they softened the blow with a noble position in some useless department.”

  “It is not useless. I will help you.”

  “No offense, Mother. Your witch powers are fun, a real show stopper, and great for your own stardom. But I do not need your help.”

  “Do not dismiss my powers so easily. They have benefited you before. You begged for me to use them just moments ago.” Lilith sucked in her breath suddenly and clutched at his arm. “Therion, what if it was—”

  “One of your own kind?” He finished for her the question she could not speak aloud. She’d known there were others still here on Earth, but she didn’t know who was left. Only in the darkest of nightmares did she experience the terror. She feared her own kind coming after her again. She wanted to live. She loved the adoration of the world, even if it was only from humans.

  “What if it was meant to be a sign to me? A warning?” She brought her hand back to cover her mouth, lines of worry deepening on her face. “That would explain why that statue was the only item taken. The image of Inanna’s daughter.”

  “I want revenge,” Therion threw his glass into the cold fireplace, “on all of them. After all, it is my destiny.” A wicked gleam glittered in his eyes.

  “Time is running out, then. We must find that amulet and restore your powers.” She tossed a flame from her hand into the fireplace, where it roared across the dried logs.

  The cell phone buzzed against his hip, startling him. “You’d better be calling with good news.” His voice whipped through the room. “Excellent. Stay put, and call me if he leaves.” He snapped the phone shut. “Darius is home.”

  “Excellent, indeed. Why don’t we summon him here?” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a legal pad, her hand swirling around the paper quickly.

  “You want to invite him over?” Therion held his temper in check, but he could not control the sarcasm in his voice. “For what? Tea? Will you seduce him to get the answers you seek?”

  “Mind your fool tongue when you speak to me.” The cell phone in his hand cracked in two. “It’s simple. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

  His anger disappeared instantly, and he allowed her to plant a chaste but overlong kiss on his lips. “I have no intention of seducing your rival. I just want to toy with him. Find out what he knows. Possibly make a bargain with him.”

  “I did like that statue very much.” For a moment, her son looked like a young boy who’d had his bicycle stolen. Pathetic.

  “Forget the stupid statue. What I promise is to find that amulet and restore your powers.” She smoothed back the hair dangling over his eyes. “We do want to rule the world, don’t we?”

  Yes. She saw it clearly in his dark eyes. He wanted to crush them all.

  *

  Shaila awoke to an aroma of something so delicious her mouth watered. She shivered from the overload to her raw senses. A smooth blanket was snuggled around her, and she lay on something soft but cool. She heard two men talking very near, and her heart sang with joy because the sound was not dulled or muted. From inside the statue, she had already attuned to the new vibrational patterns of this language.

  It was torture to refrain from jumping into the air and screaming that she was finally alive again. But she convinced her limbs to remain very still, for neither voice sounded familiar. Where is my priest?

  “Pass me those fries? Thanks.” The first voice was full of energy and curiosity. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “I did. I found Papa’s notes on the statue. It’s written in Arabic, so give me a minute to translate his penmanship.” The second voice was much deeper, rich with strength. “There are references to the 18th Dynasty and the reign of Smenkhkare. It’s hard to read, but I think it says that she was there to protect something.”

  “Protect what? A pharaoh’s tomb?” It was the first voice again. “Does it say anything about a woman inside the statue?”

  They were speaking about her.

  “Here is the page where he wrote down the prophecy. I know this by heart. He lectured me with it so many times.” The second voice now sounded hollow with sadness and regret.

  “Your grandfather’s a brilliant man, Dare, and interesting. It takes men like him, who believe in three thousand year old prophecies, to make the biggest discoveries.” She appreciated the respect in that voice.

  She heard a rustling that she couldn’t identify, but still she held her eyes tightly shut.

  The second man cleared his throat. “Before the Age of Awakening, a commander of armies will rise up and smite those who govern. This descendant of Apophis will be the face of evil, resurrecting a dark army and defiling the world. The sickness of evil will bring hopelessness and despair. But a light shines from the Heavens. We send a gift to man. A protector and a deliverer to smite the evil of chaos and restore the order of peace. Entombed to sleep through the ages and awaken when the evil conqueror sinks fangs into men. We pray to the gods to protect this tomb and deliver this gift to the world.”

  Moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes. She could have recited that from memory too. She knew the truth of those words. She helped write that prophecy. She had sent that gift. How long ago did the first voice say? Over three thousand sun cycles? It had felt like an eternity.

  Goddess, what smells so good? She could not wait any longer. The evidence of her hunger drooled from her lips. She struggled to open her eyelids. Thousands of years nearly glued them together. Finally, they parted slightly. She winced as light lanced painfully into her eyes.

  From underneath her lashes, she had a good view of the two men. They sat on the opposite side of a short table from her. She spotted what possibly was the source of the aroma. Little yellow sticks, which they fished out of a small red box made of…papyrus?

  “Do you think she’s really an ancient goddess?”

  A shrill sound buzzed through the room, vibrating her bones and jarring her fully awake. Shocked, her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Furious energy pieced through her veins with white-hot pain.

  A growl began deep in her throat as fear launched her over the back of the long chair. An old familiar sensation tugged at the roof of her mouth. Like a lioness, she rumbled a threat between clenched teeth, which now included two thin, shiny fangs. Her chest pumped furiously as she tried to catch her breath. She prepared to pounce on anyone stupid enough to wander too close.

  Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. The shorter of the two, with dark hair, had a shocked expression on his face. He was staring at her teeth. She lifted her upper lip, revealing a bit more of her sharp fangs. Power sang through her blood as he quickly retreated a few steps.

  The other man, tall and shaven, seemed unaffected by her threats. In fact, the look in his eyes dared hers to look away from him. She bristled at the challenge. A sparkle of light caught her attention. Her eyes fixed on the medallion hung around his neck. It was her turn to be shocked. She sensed no power in his spirit. Who is this human who carries an Eye of Ra?

  Again the high-pitched sound rang through the air. Cocking her head to one side, she decided that the noise was coming from a brown box hanging over a doorway.

  The dark-haired man now stared at her body paint. He looked away sheepishly when the
tall one cleared his throat. The irritating noise buzzed insistently a third time.

  “I think I’d better get that. They don’t appear to be going away.”

  “What? You’re not going to leave me here with…her?” The dark one whispered. “What do I do with her?”

  “Clothes would be a great start. Find something that will cover her up.” The tall one gestured towards her bare chest. He looked square into her eyes. “You. Stay.” He pointed to the long chair before striding out of the room.

  She glared at his retreating back. No human had ever dared to talk to her in such a manner. It was she who commanded them, not the other way around.

  She did not move while the men were gone. She just looked. Much time had gone by, as nothing around her looked normal. She knew not where here was or if she had reached the right time.

  My knife! Suddenly, she felt around her waist. Her knife was gone. The adrenaline that had flown through her and given energy to her body now ebbed away. The fangs recoiled into their sheath. Then, her knees buckled under her own weight. She sank limply to the floor.

  Shaila mentally cursed her body for its weakness. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment that she had to rely on the tall one to return and assist her. He lifted her up with muscles unfettered by the bondage of time. She hated this feeling of feebleness, as he carried her in his strong arms. Jealousy prickled her spirit.

  He arranged her on the long chair next to the little table. The savory aroma tempted her again. Her eyes locked on the little sticks poking out of the red papyrus. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. Suddenly, the sticks were right in front of her face.

  “French fries.”

  She looked up into warm gold-brown eyes. If not for the temptation so close to her mouth, she would have studied his eyes a bit more deeply. Instead, she slowly placed one stick on her tongue. She had no idea what it was, but it was divine. She could not get the rest into her mouth fast enough.