Ascension Page 6

  “They seem to think they can control their capital.” Haven scooted off the bed and left the room. Kyana followed, interested in any tidbit of news.

  Haven grabbed the remote and clicked on the large television to one of the few working news channels. Pain seared through Kyana’s head. Technology didn’t agree with her mix of breeds. The radio waves bouncing through the room had her ears ringing and her head pounding. The need for news made her push aside the pain, though she did move farther out of the living room to sit on the stairs.

  The images flashing on the screen were of wide-eyed, sleep-deprived news anchors yapping in front of monitors showing a massive explosion in the downtown Dallas area.

  “Nice to know even demons running rampant on the streets can’t bring down FOX News.”

  Pointing the remote at the screen, Haven glanced over her shoulder at Kyana. “The military set off bombs to act as a diversion. It worked long enough to get about three hundred humans boarded on planes. D.C., apparently, has opened up all major buildings for shelter.”

  A Latino boy screamed on the television, his arms outstretched as a soldier lifted him out of his father’s arms and onto the airplane. “They’re not taking any men yet,” Haven continued. “Looks like they might end up with a matriarchal society if we don’t pick up the pace.”

  Kyana looked at Haven, who chewed daintily on an olive. “And what would be wrong with that?”

  Haven grinned. “I like men, thank you very much. Don’t want to see the entire species wiped off the face of the Earth.”

  “Humans have a sinking ship mentality, women and children first,” Kyana said. “They need to save those who matter. Those who can put the world back in order when we complete our task.”

  But given that the human government didn’t exactly have a roster of the Chosen to work from, or know anything about them really, Kyana wasn’t sure how they were supposed to do that. And sadly, while bits of the Order were spread out across the world, there weren’t enough of them to work as hard and fast as the mission required.

  Haven glanced at the screen. “I don’t know why they’re sending everyone to D.C., though. It’s on the verge of being overrun as it is. Once the Dark Breeds realize they’ve put all their hens in one little henhouse, it’ll be a slaughter.”

  Kyana tried to care. Really, she did. But humans, in her experience, weren’t the innocent beings of light that the gods and goddesses seemed to think they were. They were just as murderous, just as power hungry as most Dark Breeds. Yes, she cared about the world in general, but the human race? They were no better than any other breed Kyana had come across in her lifetime.

  Still, no race deserved to be wiped out completely. Maybe Leeches, but they were brainless, useless fuckers.

  Kyana pulled herself to her feet and made her way back to her room, calling out over her shoulder, “Let’s hope that we can get a couple of our people in D.C. to help sway the human powers-that-be into being more sensible.”

  “We already have people there, but even with everything going on, it’s difficult for humans to believe we truly want to help them.”

  Which was why so many had died, and were still dying.

  “I’m off.” Kyana snapped her satchel closed, slung it over her shoulder, and grabbed her leather jacket from the back of her door. “Be a good friend and shut off that TV so I can come through without my head exploding.”

  There was a click and then blessed silence as Kyana shut her door and headed back toward the living room.

  “You’re going to wear that?” Haven asked, eyeing Kyana like a mother.

  Kyana glanced down at her leather pants and boots. “Yeah?”

  Haven knelt and rested her arms on the back of the sofa. “Those pants have been mended more times than I can count. Not sure I can save them if you shift in them again.”

  Right. She loved these pants. They’d been tattered so many times by Kyana’s shifting, they’d become remarkably comfy. But Haven was right. They were on their last legs. “Fine. I’ll change.”

  With a sigh of regret, she stomped back to her room, threw open her closet, and pulled out a similar pair that still had the price tag attached. She lovingly placed her battered pair on the bed and slipped the new ones on, loathing the thought of ruining these too. The Illusion Charms Haven created for her didn’t stop her from ruining clothes during a shift. All they did was fool people into believing she wasn’t running around naked. She’d fought bare-assed more times than she could count, but luckily, no one else could see that. She needed a cheaper clothing habit, for sure. Maybe take up denim, but denim didn’t become a part of her body as leather did, and it didn’t offer much in the way of protection. But the Order didn’t exactly pay their employees, and Kyana’s stash of old money wouldn’t last forever. Especially now with the human world so out of whack, all of her investments were kaput.

  She sighed, zipped up the pants, and headed back to the living room. “Better?”

  Haven looked her over. “Yep. I can save those if you don’t screw them up too badly. Just bring me the pieces.” She straightened and cocked her head. “So I’m guessing this means you’re refusing my offer to keep you drowning in potions?”

  “Haven, if I knew what I was facing, you’d be the first person I’d want with me. You know that. But I have no idea where I’m heading or what might be there waiting. I can’t be my best if I’m worried about you.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay? Just like that? Kyana didn’t trust the innocent look on Haven’s face. “I mean it, Haven.”

  “I know. Go. Be safe. I’m going to go shower.”

  She disappeared down the hall, humming, and left Kyana to watch suspiciously as her blond head bounced away.

  There was no time to pursue Haven, however. She had to meet Artemis and Ryker. She wasn’t sure she’d find anything useful on the island, but the thought of walking around such a legendary place and seeing for herself where a bastard like Cronos had died amped her up.

  As she opened the front door and headed out into dusk, Kyana picked up speed. She wasn’t willing to sap any of her energy by using her Vampyric sprint. It would only last a minute and she’d be worn out for an hour. She was already in dire need of a nap and couldn’t risk outright exhaustion. And no way in hell was she shifting already. She’d lose her bag and her clothes, and she sure as shit wasn’t strutting naked around the island—even if she was the only one who knew she wasn’t clothed. But she kept her strides long as she wound her way down the back roads separating her little restored bed-and-breakfast home and the Castillo de San Marcos.

  Once she entered Below, Kyana stopped long enough to grab some warm supper to go from the butcher near Spirits before making her way to the gods’ temple on a large hill overlooking this part of the realm. Ryker and Artemis stood waiting already, and though Kyana wasn’t late, she wished she’d been the one to arrive first.

  So much for hoping that after his rancid swim he’d plead for reassignment.

  “You’re really going to make him go with me?”

  Ryker smirked. “You expected me not to show up?”

  “I was hopeful.” She doubted it would do any good, but she had to try one last time to get Artemis to change her mind about the two of them working together. “You said his job was to find the persons responsible for using the key. This trip is a scouting expedition for clues. I doubt we’ll find people there. There’s no need for you to make him go with me to help search the island.”

  “That’s not why I’m going.”

  “Then why bother?”

  “Have you ever used a port before?” Artemis asked.

  Now where had that question come from? “Uh, I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Not a portal. A port. You’ll be taking one today.”

  She frowned at the goddess. “What’s the difference?”

  “A port isn’t like stepping through the gate between Above and Below. It’s not an easy passage. It’s bright, loud, and ver
y dangerous, especially when more than one person is being ported.”

  “Then why do I have to use one of these port things?”

  “Because it’s not only the quickest way to reach Cronos’s island, it’s the only way.”

  Just lovely. Kyana wanted to ask exactly what to expect, but a part of her really didn’t want to know.

  “It’s not all about the skill of the porter, but directly involves the willingness of the portee—you—to do what’s required to make the jump complete.”

  “Have you ever— Wait, porter? As in, thing that ports?”

  Dread settled in Kyana’s gut as her suspicions raised the hairs on her arms. She swung her gaze to Ryker, whose smug smile confirmed her fears.

  Shit.

  “A porter isn’t a thing, Ky. It’s a person.” Ryker gripped her shoulders as though he thought she might bolt. “And in this case, I’m going to be your personal airline service.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re going to be my what?” Kyana picked up her jaw from the proverbial floor and stepped away from Ryker.

  “Your porter. It’s a rare gift. From my father’s side.” He knelt in front of her and bowed his head. “You’ll have to hold on to me and shut up because if I break my concentration on the location I’m trying to send us to, we could end up somewhere on shit’s creek and out of luck for a while.” He rotated his neck, flexed his shoulders. He looked more like he was preparing for a workout than for a magic session. “Once I port us, I can’t summon that power again for twenty-four hours. Understand? We don’t have time to get thrown off course.”

  Twenty-four hours? A full day? She’d known there was a probable chance of being out on that island for a sunrise, but now she was going to have to deal with a full day of Ryker. On a deserted island. How was she supposed to survive that? Artemis had one sick sense of humor, but Kyana wasn’t laughing.

  “Couldn’t you just do this?” she asked Artemis. “The two of us alone? We’re going to kill each other.”

  “No, I cannot. And you’ll not be alone.” Artemis waved at someone near the door. “I’ve arranged for a Healer to accompany you.”

  Kyana twisted to find Haven smiling like a pig in dog shit. “I knew you were up to something. Gave in way too easy. How did you beat me here?”

  “Swiftness Potion.” Haven grinned. “Tastes like strawberries.”

  “Figures.” Turning her gaze to Ryker, whose head was still bowed, she asked, “What do we have to do?”

  “Each of you take a shoulder. When I begin the chant, I’ll need complete and absolute silence. If you release your hold on me at any point, you’ll be left behind. Well, some of you will be. Can’t guarantee at least a bit of you won’t come with me.”

  Kyana chuckled. He was kidding. But there was no humor in his eyes. He . . . wasn’t kidding. His mouth started moving, quiet words fluttering past Kyana’s ears as she watched his long fingers draw a circle in the dirt around him.

  “Stand inside,” he said.

  And when Kyana and Haven obeyed, he threw back his head, spewing a blinding light from his eyes like someone had shoved a flashlight in his sockets. Words of another language flew from his mouth and Kyana frantically shoved her hand on his shoulder and held on to his shirt for dear life.

  She bit her tongue, fighting the array of curses desperate to be spoken, terrified of muttering even one lest they end up in the middle of the damned ocean. She searched Haven’s eyes, saw the fear within the blue depths, and relaxed the smallest bit. If Haven sensed Kyana’s fear, Haven would lose control and throw them all off course.

  Ryker’s body spasmed. His head fell forward, and Kyana suddenly felt as though she’d been turned inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut against the nausea, and when she opened them again, she was inside a golden tunnel so blinding, tears poured down her cheeks. She was pretty sure her hair caught on fire as she spiraled through what looked to be a light worm, the stench of burning hair clogging her throat. Her cheeks and neck burned. She ached to snatch her hand away and shield herself from danger. Had he taken her to the fucking sun? She needed to shift, needed to turn Lychen and save herself from exploding into dust right here and now.

  But she held on to Ryker, desperate to keep all her body parts if she was going to die anyway.

  The blinding light burst like fireworks behind her closed eyes, and when she next opened them, she was cast in utter blackness. Not even her superior Vampyric sight could penetrate the dark. She was thrown forward, her fingers desperately clawing at Ryker’s shirt to keep her grip, and in the next instant, she was flat on her back, her mouth full of grit, her throat and nose closed with tiny particles of . . . sand?

  She reached out her free hand, felt around in the darkness. Cool, grainy sand slid between her fingers and dusted her pants. She coughed, spitting the beach back into its rightful place. Her eyes were open, but it was still black.

  “Ryker?” she called out. “Haven?”

  “We’re here. We’re fine.” Ryker’s voice was only inches away.

  She rolled over, felt for his face, then lifted her hand and slapped the shit out of him. “You bastard! I’m blind! What the hell did you do to me?”

  “Damn it, Ky!”

  She felt him scoot away and she reached after him like a desperate peddler after his goods. She rose onto her knees, following his sounds. Her hands fell into water, splashing the burning, salty liquid into her mouth. The ocean. Yippee.

  “Libero!”

  Ryker’s shout jerked Kyana to her feet. It took a moment to realize that he’d just ordered someone’s freedom, and another moment to realize it had been hers. She tentatively opened one eye, and it burned from the salt water. But she could see. She stood in front of the bluest waters she’d ever seen. Sand the color of snow piled beneath her boots, offset by small rocks so black they looked like tiny oil spills.

  “This the place?” she breathed, her panic calming as the sight of the gray sky filled her focus. It was twilight here too. She hadn’t been sure it would be. She didn’t have to worry about shifting . . . yet.

  “Hope so.” Ryker was bending over the water, splashing it onto his face.

  “Yeah, sorry ’bout the slap. I . . .”

  “Panicked. I know.”

  She frowned at him and turned around to make sure Haven wasn’t missing her nose or something from their little adventure. She looked pretty intact, though out of breath as she lay flat on her back, her arm flung over her face as her chest rose and fell in a heavy, steady rhythm.

  “You okay?” Kyana asked, falling onto the sand beside her friend.

  “I’m. Going. To. Puke.” Haven rolled onto her side and groaned.

  Glad to know it wasn’t just her own weak stomach flopping around, Kyana smiled. It would be interesting to see who tossed her cookies first.

  “We have all night to prowl the island,” Ryker said. “Take a few to recover and zap yourself some potion to settle your stomach. We’ll rest for an hour, then we’re off.”

  He was right, but Kyana didn’t like him issuing orders. “Thirty minutes. We’ll need time to look for shelter from the sun as well since we’re stuck here until tomorrow night.”

  “Fine. Thirty minutes.” He dried his face on his shirt and strode to Haven’s side. He reached into her satchel and pulled out a bottle of water, tucking it inside her folded arms. “Drink.”

  Kyana blinked up at him, unable to stop the warmth of satisfaction she felt at seeing the welts of her palm print on his cheek. “I shouldn’t have slapped you.”

  His hard glare rested on her. “No. You shouldn’t have.”

  “I should have punched you instead.”

  They probably could have used the hour, but at exactly thirty minutes, according to Ryker’s watch, Kyana insisted rest time was over. Ryker had to bite his lip to keep from putting her in her place. True, this was technically her mission. But he outranked her by a mile. He was used to giving orders, not taking them.


  He watched her help Haven to her feet, watched the pair of them move together in the shadows as he gathered his belongings and stuffed them back into his bag. They were quite a pair—the blond Witch and the dark Vamp Half-Breed. Normally, he would have been all over Haven’s sort of beauty. Perky, good-humored, optimistic. He liked all her qualities, and Zeus knew, she was damned beautiful. But his gaze never lingered on her long. It always found its way right back to where it shouldn’t be—on Kyana.

  Your own mother couldn’t find it in her heart to love you, Ryker. She all but threw you in my arms when I came to claim you as my son. My, but you are a masochist, aren’t you? You choose to give your heart to a bloodthirsty Half-Breed who will never want more from you than your cock. You’re strong, son. But you are a king of fools.

  Ares’s words rang in Ryker’s ears as he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed the women off the beach and into the surrounding jungle. He’d made the mistake of allowing his father to overhear his prayers for peace. That Ares knew of Ryker’s feelings for Kyana had only strengthened their mutual disdain for each other. Another bone of contention between them, because as Ryker envisioned Kyana’s hair spread out upon his pillow, her whispered words of love in his ear, Ares had seen only the Half-Breed in Kyana, a threat to steal his son’s attentions away from his duties. And since Ares wanted nothing more than for Ryker to take his place as the God of War, any distraction from that post had been immediately stomped to death. Most especially women, which Ares considered the most inconsequential beings on the planet.

  Ryker didn’t want or need his father’s approval. Hell, he hadn’t even acknowledged Ares as his father to anyone but himself. He just loathed hearing Ares belittle the connection he knew he had with Kyana. He hated that she belittled it too. He didn’t want just her body. He wanted all of her. All the time.

  A branch smacked him in the chest, pulling him out of the thoughts that were conjuring his temper like a tempest. Kyana led the way through an overgrown trail Ryker had found while she and Haven had rested. Still, the path toward the center of the island was anything but a walk in the park. He felt like he should be in front, knocking the brush from their path to make it easier on Kyana and Haven, but he was pretty sure if he tried to act so gallantly, Kyana would push him off a cliff. Or another damned ferry. His small home Below still stank like death thanks to her little stunt at the river. But that was only one of the many things he liked so much about her. She was the only nongoddess female that he’d ever failed to intimidate.