Encore (Descendants of Ra: Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  Shit. A strange sense of panic settled in his gut when he should be thrilled. This is what he wanted, to be free of her. But as he strode through the building, scanning the people heading for the exit, he realized he would never be free. He had to find her. Protect her.

  Her orders overrode his survival instinct. He picked up speed. His heart raced. His head throbbed at the consequences of failure. His reaction had to be a result of his enslavement because he never panicked. Wasn’t in his nature.

  He paused at the top of the grand staircase, scanning for a pixie haircut and red leather. Throngs of people ambled toward the exit, in a kaleidoscope of bodies and colors.

  Have to find her!

  THERE. She approached the exit, slowly walking behind a woman and the same group of girls he noticed in the Egyptian gallery. Hurrying to catch up, he lost Ridley when she walked through the revolving door, but spotted her as soon as he exited the building; her red coat flapping behind her as she jogged down the stone stairs. He caught up with her at the bus stop, questions crowding his mind.

  Why did she leave without him? Why did she follow the woman who was now seated on a yellow school bus with the girls?

  Ridley stared until the bus pulled away from the curb and merged with the evening traffic. EJ glanced between her and the departing bus.

  Head hanging, without a glance his way, she mumbled, “Let’s get out of here.” And took off down the street.

  Like a good slave, EJ followed, all the while wondering what the hell that had been about.

  Chapter Five

  Why was EJ here? The question ripped through Daniel and kept him from following his former brother out of the museum. The woman? Who was she? And her level of importance? Killing her would hurt whom the most?

  Finding out the answers to those many questions started here. Answers he needed to destroy his enemies. The faces of all the Nicolis men flitted through his brain. He would gain the powers he deserved...possibly.

  NO. Not possible!

  He came here searching among the treasures of Egypt for anything that held a hint of godly power. Instead, he found the youngest member of the family.

  Fortune favored Daniel. Revenge—like rain after a drought—was manna for his soul and would get him back in favor with Anubis.

  His phone rang. He touched the Bluetooth on the side of his ear. “Speak.”

  “The download is complete, sir,” the subordinate replied.

  Nice when a plan comes together. “Did you get everything on the servers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Start searching for bank account numbers. By this time tomorrow, I want the Nicolis family to be part of the ninety-nine percent.”

  Daniel ended the conversation and focused the power he’d stolen from Anubis and narrowed the aura down to pinpoint one thing, EJ’s scent. If Daniel transformed into the beast—Alamut—it would be easier and call every cop in the city to this location. That scenario wasn’t an option.

  After a few deep inhales, he picked up EJ’s overripe smell. Daniel glanced at the two people with him—the man he’d turned over a year ago, and the woman, turned just last week.

  “Stay here. I’ll be back,” he said to both, but his gaze never strayed from her blank face. She was just the way he liked his women, obedient and silent. He left them in the gallery and backtracked EJ’s course through the museum. Several guards stopped him. A gentle push on their minds persuaded them to herd the patrons and leave him the hell alone.

  EJ’s scent ended at a secure door. EMPLOYEES ONLY in big red letters warned the public away. Wouldn’t stop him. Aware of the cameras overhead, Daniel shielded the keypad and doorknob with his body. He sent a pulse of energy through the circuits. The lock released and the door swung open without a sound. He strolled through as if he belonged in their rarified, cultured environment and hadn’t just committed a crime.

  A few voices filtered to him from the cubicles, though no head peeked over their partitioned walls. The workers must be inured to the comings and goings of their co-workers and superiors. Good, maybe he could do this without humans delaying him. The only blood he wanted on his hands was Nicolis blood.

  All of their blood. He would wallow in it.

  Daniel strolled through the section to the nicer offices in the rear. As he passed the administration wing, a woman exited a side door. A nondescript lab coat hid her figure. Nothing could hide the loveliness of her delicate features and crown of auburn hair. She stopped short when she saw him. The glare of the fluorescent lights on her black-rimmed glasses kept her eyes hidden. He imaged they widened in appreciation of his presence or in fear. Both reactions were acceptable.

  Her scent didn’t change, though. Arousal on a woman held a blossoming odor while fear left an intoxicating burnish taint in his nostrils. The latter scent filled his nights. The former, he hadn’t had lately.

  He turned away from the woman and continued following EJ’s trail. Three doors down, he stopped at a partially closed door.

  “No, I didn’t tell them I’d translated most of the passage. I want them to bring me the Book. Once I have it, we can sell it after translation. It will be worth more.” Daniel listened to the conversation within the room. “It mentioned a blade. Golden. Named it the Sacred Dagger in one section. In the other, it called it the Harvester…How should I know what it harvests? …Have you known the Egyptians to make anything without gemstones? Don’t know if the Book has a location…I will find out when I get it…Yes, yes, the market for that item will be enormous. All the pantheons will go crazy to have it.”

  Everything else the man said previously to his last sentence faded away. Other pantheons?

  The Sacred Dagger. Daniel touched the jeweled weapon secure against his lower back. The anu’Ra belonged to him. Only his death would separate him from the precious relic.

  “Well, if there is a war over the Book, I don’t foresee an issue with having a few less demi-gods roaming the streets.”

  Did he mean Roman and Reign? They were the only demi-gods Daniel knew of, and he found that out the hard way. The man inside the office had to mean them. Yet, even as the thought entered his mind, Daniel knew the answer in his gut. Even though the Egyptians frowned on the intermingling of god and human DNA—they did it anyway—other pantheons didn’t. Their progeny flourished.

  In all this time, he had never met another descendant or god from another pantheon. Socializing was not encouraged, yet the prospect tantalized him. That was a world, power, he could have access to, and the man behind the door knew all about it.

  “Of course I’m having them followed. Something so precious can’t be left in the hands of novices.”

  Daniel opened the door and peered into the office. Quickly, he assessed the cluttered desk and tidy man. William Chadwick the gold embossed nameplate informed.

  “Hold on, Lyle. Are you lost?” Chadwick’s distasteful gaze swept over Daniel.

  EJ’s scent was strongest at the spot by the door, as if he guarded it, possibly for the woman? “No. Not lost. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

  He freed the Sacred Dagger Anubis had gifted him a decade ago to build his army. The Harvester. Daniel preferred that name. Chadwick’s eyes glazed with greed as Daniel twirled the tip on his middle finger, showcasing the gem-encrusted sheath.

  “Lyle, I will call you back.” He ended the call and tossed the phone onto a pile of folders. “Good afternoon, sir. Please have a seat.” Chadwick motioned to the chair opposite his desk as he took his own. “What is your name?”

  Keeping that detail from him would make no difference. “Daniel Nicolis.”

  Chadwick arched an eyebrow. The Nicolis name was well known in the art world since Roman was a patron to several galleries. Daniel pushed the nameplate aside and placed the dagger in the prime spot. Chadwick studied the Harvester, greed reflected in his pitted eyes. “Do you know this?” Daniel gestured to the dagger.

  The curator shook his head. “It is a beautiful piece
of workmanship.”

  Lie. A deaf man could’ve caught the deception in Chadwick’s voice.

  “How did you acquire it?” Chadwick asked.

  “A…former friend gave it to me.” Daniel ran his finger along the jeweled sheath.

  “How generous. Are you willing to sell? I’ll pay handsomely for such a piece.” Chadwick leaned forward in his chair.

  Daniel grinned as if the thought pleased him. “Who were you speaking to on the phone?”

  Chadwick mirrored Daniel’s jovial stare. “A partner. He deals in collectibles of the highest caliber for select clientele.”

  There was only one type of client Daniel was interested in. “Is he a demi-god?”

  Chadwick’s warm salesman expression vanished. His face shifted into a blank mask. Too late. Daniel picked up the dagger. With a soft swoosh, he freed the blade from the sheath. The gold was honed to an impossibly sharp edge. Magic hummed from the surface, ready to be put to a purpose.

  The curator’s attention was fixed on the anu'Ra, the thing he desired, would never have…but it would have him.

  Faster than Chadwick could blink, Daniel reached across the desk, grabbed the man by the neck, and hauled him over the surface. Items scattered everywhere. Chadwick thrashed and clawed at Daniel’s hand, while his face reddened, then tinged blue.

  Daniel didn’t rush. He had all the time in the world as he used the dagger to slice through Chadwick’s cheap tie and cotton shirt. Daniel paused right over Chadwick’s heart. And stopped. It would be easy to change him into a quimaera. While the curator would make a great addition to Daniel’s slave army, he would also be brainless. Nothing more than a drone. That would be counterproductive. So instead of turning Chadwick, Daniel allowed himself to transform into Alamut.

  He hoped the terror of witnessing the metamorphosis would stun the man into submission. It had the opposite effect. For a man of Chadwick’s diminutive stature, he had surprising strength. Though hopeless, he used his last bit of strength to thwart the attack. A brainless drone it would be then.

  Alamut pierced the skin, thin layer of muscle, and the thick layer of bone to touch the beating heart beneath. No blood, only a blinding light flared from the wound. It snaked around the jeweled blade and then filled every inch of the office. Alamut didn’t release the limp man dangling in his hand because he enjoyed the feel of flesh encased in his fist. The power of life and death thrilled him. However, this wasn’t a dark alley where he could enjoy the moment. Alamut changed back into his more cultured persona.

  Daniel shook off the lingering tension in his shifting muscles and retrieved a small canopic jar from an inside pocket of his coat. With his teeth, he popped the cork. Black mist wafted from the opening and joined with the dagger embedded in Chadwick’s chest. It wrapped around the hilt, slithered down the edge, and into the wound. Only then did Daniel yank the blade free. The wound sealed instantly; only a thin line remained, a reminder of a soul replaced. A new quimaera born. So damn easy.

  He sat Chadwick down in his plush leather chair, adjusted his ruined shirt, and straightened his slashed tie. Daniel even wiped the bit of drool leaking from the corner of Chadwick’s mouth.

  “Now, the question asked, not answered, is your pal a demi-god?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Which pantheon?”

  “Greek.”

  Shit! Greeks and Egyptians. Bad blood didn’t quite sum up the animosity, though that could be used in his favor. Daniel tilted his chair back until it strained, then he kicked his feet up on the edge of the desk. “Tell me everything, leave out nothing. Start with the white-haired woman and the big bald guy who were just here.”

  Chapter Six

  “Don’t.” Avery grabbed Emeline’s hands to keep them away from his Ink.

  “Stop being ridiculous,” Emeline snapped.

  Then she knelt on the bed beside him, both clutched the sheet and pulled in opposite directions. He’d awakened a few moments ago, after sleeping a full twenty-four hours to find her and Mrs. Kelly studying his skin, only the sheet covering his lower half. He didn’t mind the woman he loved ogling him, but an octogenarian? No.

  Then he remembered what happened, glanced at the words painted in his Ink, and he wanted both of them gone. He was too dangerous. Mrs. Kelly didn’t need prodding to vacate the room. She’d left moments after he opened his eyes.

  “Eme, I want you to leave right now.” He braced for pity and received open honest love. His gut wrenched. “Babe, I don’t want you near me.”

  “I don’t care what you say. We are in this together. I love you.”

  She stunned him every time she said those three words. It was as if the first time repeated itself. “Damn, I love you.”

  Before he could gather his wits, she landed on top of him. Lips touched. Tongues glided. Emeline led the kiss, and he succumbed to the assault on his senses. She pressed close, molded herself to him, and he cursed the sheet and clothes separating skin-on-skin contact.

  Hands that pushed her away now cupped her head and drew her in. He returned her fervor, matching it, exceeding it, until he breathed for her alone. More whispered in his blood, on his flesh. Enough wasn’t in his vocabulary when it came to her.

  His Ink slithered, flamed.

  Avery yanked away. He shoved Emeline to the bed and lurched to his feet.

  “W-what is—Oh…” Her words dried up as she stared.

  Avery gathered his courage. Calmly, he shifted to the dresser mirror to view what had her mouth hanging open. Hieroglyphics from the obelisks Khuket had chained him to and the words from the Book of Eidos hovered an inch above his skin, like a 3D jigsaw waiting to be assembled. He grasped hold of the dresser to keep from sinking to the floor. What did this mean?

  And was it contagious?

  Emeline scrambled off the bed and raced to his side. Her hand slipped into his and clung. Never was he more grateful for the contact. The Ink shifted, smoothed like the surface of a lake, and then contracted. It seeped inside, leaving a clean canvas of blank skin and the burned, contorted flesh on his shoulder he’d earned saving his two-year-old brother from a fire.

  “Don’t tell me to leave because I’m not going,” Emeline said. She took the wind out of his sail. Guess he was that easy to read.

  “It’s not safe.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Fuck safe. All we have is each other. Nothing is more important than you and me. Understand.”

  In the mirror, they watched each other, her expression fierce, almost feral, his eyes wide, skin pasty, lips thinned.

  So that is what I look like when I’m scared shitless.

  Emeline stepped in front of him. Her warm hands settled on his waist and glided over his abdomen, past his pecs to wrap around his neck. “I’m not afraid, Avery.”

  “I am.” He could admit that to her alone.

  “Then I will be brave enough for both of us.”

  Deep down, he knew his Ink would never harm Emeline. It desired her as much as he did. This time, he didn’t fight her tug on his senses. Didn’t fight the desire to possess her. He carried her to their bed and laid her down. He straddled her, then stripped her shirt and bra first, boots and pants next. The panties she removed herself with a shimmy that left his balls tight, his dick straining. Her legs parted, and he licked his lips, eager beyond the ability to resist. He thirsted. He hungered. For what she said belonged to him.

  Avery leaned forward.

  His cell phone rang. The tune, Quin’s.

  EJ!

  Quin must’ve found a lead. Emeline shifted higher on the bed and snatched his phone off the nightstand. She crossed her legs, hiding her sweet spot, and handed the cell over.

  He answered on the final ring. “Have you found him?”

  “I got an image of EJ at the Museum of Ancient History. The pic is a day old because I had a virus in my computer that took a while to purge. Thane and I are headed over there. Do you want to join?”

  Yes! Abso-fucking-lut
ely. But he couldn’t. Not until he discovered what was going on with him. He couldn’t risk the public.

  “No, Quin.” His gaze fixed on Emeline. She’d parted her legs and her fingers moved up her inner thigh. Her grin, dangerous. “You go ahead. I have something else that needs taking care of.”

  ~~~~~~~

  Quin walked up the grand staircase of the Museum of Ancient History. A day late and a dollar short streamed in his head. Computer virus wiped out two of his servers. Someone had hacked into their system and took everything. Thankfully, all of the company’s financials and the family’s private accounts were kept on a separate closed box server. Quin recovered the data and started a trace. He would find the person and break some bones. No one messed with his software.

  “What are you hoping to find?” Thane walked next to Quin as they made their way through the milling crowd.

  “A clue obviously. None of us are the museum types, so why were EJ and Daniel here? And are they working together?” The thought chilled Quin’s spine.

  Thane monitored their surroundings. “Valid. Ridley and Daniel could be controlling EJ.”

  Quin doubted Thane’s theory. Arguing was pointless. They’d never seen eye to eye on anything, and this probably wouldn’t be any different. He should’ve left his ass home, but single man missions were no longer allowed. Daniel and Ridley working together would make finding EJ harder, although nothing would ever make the family stop searching for him.

  “Fuck. This is a big place.” Thane glanced into one of the galleries and whistled.

  A throat cleared. Nearby, a mother glared at them while a preteen boy standing next to her snickered.

  Quin retrieved his cell and pulled up the map he’d downloaded of the building. He’d drawn a trail of where EJ traveled. The facial recognition program first identified him leaving the subway in the Diamond District. Forty-five minutes later, traffic cameras picked him up crossing the street at the Met. Quin couldn’t pinpoint where he and Ridley Cross had gone in the Diamond District. That left him, Thane, and their fact-finding journey.