Immortal Dynasty

by Lynda Haviland

  Blood red was the prevailing color in Lilith’s sitting room. Beyond that, the most notable feature was a huge fireplace, large enough for him to stand in.

  “Thank you for coming. Please make yourself comfortable.” She arranged herself across a crimson sofa, accented with brown and gold pillows. She patted an empty space next to hers.

  “As you said, it was not a request.” Darius ignored the invitation and pulled an envelope out of his back pocket. As he tossed it on the coffee table, the photo she’d sent him of his grandfather slid halfway out. Darius hoped his disgust showed plainly on his face. “Your message was quite clear.”

  “Sit. Sit down. Gods, but you really are delicious looking, especially when you’re angry.” She leisurely surveyed every inch of his body. “I would enjoy bending you to my will, but I did promise my son that I would not seduce you…today.”

  Darius was not in a hurry to test Lilith’s resolve to keep that promise. He sat across from her, keeping the coffee table between them. The demon doorman appeared again, but this time he brought a tray of drinks. The demon’s hands trembled, causing the drinks to slosh over the edge of the glasses. After dropping the tray on the table, the gray man nearly sprinted out of the room.

  “Why haven’t we met before, Darius? We both operate in the darker side of antiquities.”

  “I’m not a social butterfly. Where’s my grandfather?”

  “I think most collectors are afraid of you.” She eyed him over the rim of her wine glass. “Of your reputation, which is quite impressive. One of Boston’s finest young pickpockets grows up to become one of the best antiquities trackers in the world.”

  “The Egyptian government is one of our best clients. They would be highly interested in your collection.”

  “They love you. Yet, here in your own country, they don’t trust you. The authorities still question you each time precious art or artifacts are stolen. I know what it’s like to be falsely accused and imprisoned…by your own people.” She tipped a healthy portion of the deep red wine into her mouth. She caught a stray drop with her tongue at the corner of her mouth.

  Darius shifted uncomfortably. “Ms. Troy—”

  “Please relax. Have a beer. It’s your favorite.”

  “How do you know what I drink?” He wasn’t about to taste anything in this house. He couldn’t trust what might have been added.

  “I Googled you.” She drew her finger around the rim of her glass. “You have left a few broken hearts behind. Women blog.” She smiled, as if there was a lot more to tell but wouldn’t.

  “You didn’t bring me here to discuss my social life. Where’s my grandfather, and why did you take him?”

  “Fine. We will get down to business, but I will do the asking, and you will do the answering. Let’s start with…why did you take that statue? What do you know of it?”

  “I ran out of time looking for my grandfather. It wasn’t hard to overhear your conversation or pick up on Therion’s possessiveness of the statue. It’s obviously a unique piece of artwork. Very valuable.”

  “How wicked of you. Vindictive and clever. You get a bargaining chip and revenge all wrapped in one beautiful package. But there is a flaw in your plan.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. Talk about flaws. He didn’t even have a statue at all. He had a stubborn goddess to contend with. “What would that flaw be?”

  “I’m in charge here, not Therion. I don’t care about that statue. So it’s fairly useless as a bargaining chip. But take heart. You still have your little revenge on my son.”

  “Then, it seems as if we have nothing to discuss.” He stood up to leave.

  “On the contrary, we have much more to discuss. Sit down. You will tell me everything you and your grandfather know.” A small note of desperation entered her voice.

  “You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “Then, let’s just start with me. What do you know about me?”

  “Up until yesterday, I knew practically nothing about you…or your kind. My grandfather believes in an old Egyptian prophecy.”

  “And you don’t?” Her finely tweezed brows lifted in mock surprise.

  He shook his head. “Not until three of your little demon friends jumped us. Now, where is my grandfather?”

  “I said…I will do the asking. You will see your grandfather soon enough. What else did he tell you about us?”

  “That you like the color red.” He ignored her gestured invitation to sit beside her and moved to stand in front of the fireplace.

  “Don’t be coy with me.” She pointed a dark fingernail in his direction.

  “He told me that you desire to be some immortal queen.”

  The curls in her hair jiggled with her laughter. “Yes. I do desire to be queen.”

  “And to rule the world with your demon army.”

  “What do I care about an army? They are just a means to an end.” She tossed her hand in the air flippantly.

  “So that’s what the mighty Colonel Therion Troy is for…to run your demon army, to smite your enemies. That’s the prophecy, right? How long can you keep your son on a leash? He will outgrow his mother.”

  “Therion will not disappoint me. I’ve given him everything. He cherishes me.” She swayed to the fireplace, swinging her wine glass around with her. He wondered if she was short for a goddess. The top of her head barely reached his chin. She looked up at him with large tawny eyes, which locked with his.

  He couldn’t look away, entranced as bronze-colored flecks started glowing. The air around him crackled, and it wasn’t the fireplace.

  “What would it feel like to be cherished by you?”

  “You wouldn’t want to mingle with a lowly human. You want to destroy us.” Feeling trapped, he wanted to step away, but the air seemed to hold him captive. The glowing eyes commanded his gaze.

  “Gods, no. I don’t want to destroy humans, but you were meant to serve my kind. In the beginning, you worshipped us.” She picked up his hands, inspecting them like a prized artifact. “Oh, Darius. To be worshiped by hands such as yours.”

  “Ms. Troy…”

  “Shhh.” She placed his hands on her hips and leaned into him. “Please call me Lilith. I’d love to hear my name from those divine lips.”

  A bead of sweat tickled down his back. He realized he was fighting something in the air. It felt like an emotional battle for mental survival. For control of his mind and body. His body was losing.

  Heat from the medallion under his shirt and a sudden image of exotic green eyes broke the spell. His mind took full control.

  “Ms. Troy, I want to see my grandfather now.”

  “Kiss me, first.” Crimson lips parted, inviting him to explore, and then snapped shut in a tense line as she realized the spell had broken.

  “Like hell.”

  “I grew up there. Not a happy place. I can arrange a visit for you, if you’d like.” Sneering laughter filled the dark room.

  “Where’s my grandfather?”

  “Darius, I wouldn’t be this obstinate if I were you. Very sad that a strong man like you is so lonely. So empty. No, don’t look at me like that. This isn’t pity. My son tormented you as a boy, and I’m his mother. You can hate me too, but that won’t help your grandfather.”

  “Don’t bother to threaten me. I don’t respond to threats.”

  “I don’t want to threaten you. You have a particular set of skills, as you so aptly informed Therion. I need someone with your abilities on my team.”

  “I’m not much of a team player.”

  Lilith glared at him before moving towards a tall mirror leaning in the corner.

  “Come. I will show you your grandfather, so you’ll know that I honor my word.”

  She touched the mirror with a red-polished fingernail. The scene that played on the mirror showed Papa Shadi lying on a stone table. No blankets covered him. No monitors checked him. Darius felt blood rush to his face, suffusing him with outrage.

  “You
—”

  “Did you think I was going to actually take you to him? Show you the way? I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”

  “Is he…?” He wanted to put his hands around her neck and shake that golden head of hers.

  “He seems to be in a coma, but I am told that he is otherwise doing just fine.”

  “He should be in a hospital.”

  “I have a doctor taking care of him, but I will make him more comfortable. Now, I’ve kept my promise. You’ve seen your grandfather. It’s your turn.”

  He didn’t need his palm to itch to remind him that he was in a bad situation. His grandfather’s exact whereabouts were still a mystery. The statue apparently held no bargaining value. There was no choice left to him but to find out what she wanted. That part worried him the most.

  “What do you need me to find?”

  “An amulet.”

  “What do you need this amulet for?” He nearly collapsed with relief. He’d feared what skills she’d been referring to.

  “Does it matter…if it saves your grandfather? I bet you’ve never questioned your grandfather’s reasons for sending you to collect certain artifacts.”

  “No, I didn’t. But he wasn’t holding a life hostage in exchange for my services. I would like to know all the stakes in this little game you are manipulating. Everything you can tell me about the amulet would help me to find it.”

  “It’s an uncut black diamond with a gold Eye of Ra symbol inlaid. No larger than my thumb.” She held out her hand as if to illustrate the size. “It belongs to me.”

  “When did you lose it?”

  “It was taken from me.” This time she glowered with bitterness, and she hissed. “Inanna took it. My conniving, backstabbing half-sister. I’d thought she’d given it to her daughter to guard. But that didn’t seem to be the case.”

  “When was it taken from you?”

  “By your calendar, it was right before the reign of Tutankamun.”

  His draw dropped slightly. A short burst of hysterical laughter tumbled out. One three-thousand-year-old woman was enough to deal with. Now, he had two.

  “You’re…” He cleared his throat and collected his thoughts. “How am I supposed to find something you lost over three thousand years ago? It could be buried in the sand. Is there any way of tracking its ownership? Give me something to start with.”

  “Start with your grandfather. He was looking for it too. He was asking the Customs director if I was looking for the amulet. He’d been sniffing around my private collection for years. He was curious about that statue too. When you bring me the amulet, he can study your new statue to his heart’s content.” She moved in close again.

  Lilith’s voice dropped to a husky plea. “Help me, Darius. Help me find my amulet, and I will release your grandfather to you unharmed.” Her palms rubbed across his chest and up his neck. They paused over his temples, massaging them lightly.

  A strange warmth infused his body. For a moment, the crimson lips pouting a few inches from his looked inviting. He licked his own dry lips.

  “I just might have to break that promise to my son,” she whispered.

  “Stop.” The warmth drained from his body, leaving him numb. He tried to disengage from her.

  Too late. An arm snaked around his neck and a leg hooked around his knees. Catching him off balance, she rolled them both down to a black shag carpet. Straddling his thighs, she again rubbed her hands across his chest, moaning his name.

  How could he possibly think about refusing an opportunity of sex? This wasn’t just any woman. She’d been one of the most famous lingerie models. She’d been the star of millions of wet dreams. She was hot, and she wanted him.

  But sleep with the woman holding his grandfather hostage? It wouldn’t be worth the sense of betrayal that would poison his gut.

  “Stop—” He tasted desperation from her lips as they crushed against his. “Stop.”

  He lifted her off of him, knowing that a soft rejection was needed to avoid a woman’s scorn, especially this woman. He wasn’t ready to find out what her other powers might be.

  “Why do you not give in to me?” She seemed more confused than angry.

  “Maybe another time, Ms. Troy.”

  “If you call me Ms. Troy again, I’ll fry you on the spot.” Now she sounded piqued. “I wait for no man.”

  His palm itched. She was undoubtedly holding back a lot of information, but he wasn’t going to stick around any longer to pry it out of her. Darius quickly retreated to the staircase, but hesitated before leaving. “Is there anything else I need to know about that amulet?”

  “Yes, there is.” An envelope lifted off of a desk and sailed through the air.

  Darius grabbed it before it sliced into his nose. “What’s this?”

  “Your deadline.”

  Ripping it open, he slid out a cream-colored card. It was an invitation to her gala event…a masquerade. “But this is in two days!”

  “Precisely.” A wicked gleam lit her tawny eyes. She was like a falcon, reaching out her talons to grip her prey. “And I can’t wait to see you in your costume.”

  He nearly tripped down the staircase in his haste to leave the Troy Estate. He didn’t know much more about his grandfather, but he had learned something that could work to his advantage. Neither one of the Troys had any clue that their statue had its own secret. That damned stubborn goddess could still turn out to be useful after all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Darius stumbled through the kitchen door, relieved to be in his own house. Here he was safe from the possessive talons of that woman. Instantly, his mouth watered as the scent of fresh basil wafted past his nose.

  “Hey, Dare. How’d it go with the old dragon lady?” Marcus slid a plate of garlic toast in front of Shaila. She devoured it. “I made a plate for you. It’s wrapped up in the fridge.”

  “What’s going on?” The kitchen was a mess, but it smelled fantastic. “Mmm. It smells just like your mother’s kitchen in here. Where did all this food come from?”

  “Oh, well, our little warrior here hasn’t eaten in over three thousand years. She’s starving.” He looked a little sheepish. “So we went to the market.”

  “The market? You mean you took her out in public?” He took a good look at her. She didn’t look half bad in an oversized football jersey and grey sweatpants.

  “Kinda. Come on, it’s no big deal. We just went to my uncle’s market in the North End. Got a few things and came back. Nothing out of the ordinary happened…mostly.”

  “What do you mean mostly?”

  “Shaila does not like the subway system. She doesn’t like cold, dark places.”

  “No, I do not!” She ate like a warrior, heedless of manners. She sucked the tomato sauce from each finger, sighing with pure contentment. “This is delicious, Marcus. It is heavenly.”

  Marcus elbowed Darius. “A goddess has described my cooking as heavenly. I don’t think there’s a better compliment in the world. I think she likes me. I keep telling you, cooking is like making love to one’s soul.”

  “You keep telling me a lot of things.” He wanted to wipe that stupid grin off of Marcus’ face.

  “Sorry, gotta go. My shift at the museum starts in a few hours, and I need some sleep. Whatever your next plan is, count me in.” Marcus made Shaila stand up and grip his right hand with hers. “This is how we say goodbye to our friends.”

  Darius rolled his eyes. Shaila grabbed Marcus by the face and planted a quick kiss on both cheeks. “That is how we say goodbye.”

  “I like your way much better.” Marcus winked at her and left.

  Darius hated that he felt uncomfortable in his own home. What the hell was he supposed to do with her now? Marcus was much more at ease with her.

  A terrible rumbling sounded from her direction, followed by a pained expression across her face.

  “Bathhouse?” She asked sheepishly.

  “Oh, no.” He dashed to the door, but Marcus was al
ready gone.

  *

  Darius should have known she’d be trouble the moment her large green eyes lit up when she spied the huge tub in Papa Shadi’s bathroom. She’d begun praising some goddess and mumbling excitedly in the most unusual language he’d ever heard. After all, what else would a woman want after being trapped in a dusty statue for three thousand years?

  He hovered in the hallway, telling himself that he was just making sure that she didn’t slip and crack her head on the tub. He valiantly tried to ignore the sighs and moans above the hum of the spa jets. She was apparently doing just fine.

  As time passed and water kept running, he realized Shaila did not know that she was supposed to turn off the faucet. As he approached bathroom door, he felt the hallway carpet squish under his feet. Shit.

  She didn’t answer when he knocked on the door. He rubbed the back of his head and his jaw clenched with indecision. It had to be done now, before she flooded the whole house. He slowly peered around the door.

  “Shaila, the faucet!” She still did not answer him. It looked like she was underwater. Darius rushed over and shut off the faucet. The spa jets continued tossing water and bubbles into frantic little whirlpools. He pulled out a large pile of towels and threw them onto the floor to soak up the wet mess. She was still oblivious to him, submerged with only her knees showing above the bubbles. “Shaila!”

  Again, she wasn’t coming up to answer him. The water needed to stop sloshing, before it started soaking the hallway and ruining the floorboards. He unclipped his cell phone and left it where it wouldn’t get wet. Feeling around the edge of the tub for the spa jet button, his hand lightly brushed her shoulder.

  He was completely unprepared for her defensive response. In one swift move, she’d grabbed and flipped him into the tub underneath her. She held him in place with her hand cupped around his throat.

  He thanked god for the water in the tub, because otherwise that flip would have really hurt. Trapped underneath the ancient warrior goddess, he couldn’t help but notice again that she was ripped. Golden skin, taut in all the right areas. Bubbles slowly dripped off of her breasts, revealing her lotus tattoos. With the centuries of dust scrubbed away, Shaila glowed. The scent of musky soap filled the air. Her dark hair dripped rivulets of water down her shoulders.