Chapter 3
The relentless Greek sun beat down on Scotty as she crossed the arena, her combat boots kicking up pristine, freshly groomed white sand.
Crap. She and her sister were the first to train today.
Aleka had to be thrilled, but Scotty preferred to spar on battle-churned ground.
Every footprint, every rutted skid mark, every bit of blood, told a story that Scotty could learn from.
Even the stench in the heat spurred Scotty to fight harder to keep her own blood from splashing onto the parched ground.
Not that she had to worry about bleeding while sparring with Aleka.
Their father hadn’t arrived yet, but Aleka was pacing anxiously in front of the weapons racks.
And, of course, she was wearing body armor.
She had an entire collection of slash-resistant clothing that also absorbed the power of blunt blows.
Today, she’d gone with khaki leggings and a form-fitting, long-sleeved olive top.
Aleka was such a wuss. They were freaking immortal. She’d heal from minor cuts and bruises in seconds.
“Hey, sis.” Scotty stopped in front of the short swords.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. I was surprised when Dad hit me up at the last minute to train with you.
” She hefted one of the swords, a straight, double-edged blade made for thrusting.
Aleka’s protective clothing was practically useless against jabs and stabs.
If Aleka had even an ounce of battle smarts, she’d choose a shield and a long weapon to counter Scotty.
Scotty would bet a million bucks that she wouldn’t.
“It was my idea. I’ve skipped training three months in a row, and I needed to get Dad off my back.
” Aleka tied her long, wavy hair into a high ponytail, and Scotty watched in envy.
Unlike Scotty, Aleka had gotten silky, strawberry-blond waves that wouldn’t dare get frizzy or move out of place.
G-ma used to joke that Scotty’s hair was as fiery and wild as she was.
“I also wanted to talk to you and figured here was as good a place as any.” She dropped her hands to her sides.
“I have a lead on the location of Harvester’s blood. ”
Scotty nearly fumbled the sword. “Holy shit.”
They’d been looking for answers for months, with little success. All they knew so far was that there had been an incident in Heaven that had resulted in their grandfather, Reaver, being taken captive, and their grandmother, Harvester, being killed when she tried to escape.
But not all hope was lost. Harvester’s angelic Grace had found its way into Scotty’s cousin Logan’s fiancée, making Harvester’s resurrection a possibility.
If they found her blood.
The day she died, Harvester’s blood had rained down to Earth in two places: Aunt Limos’s house in Hawaii and a mosque in Jerusalem.
After coating everything within a fifty-yard radius, the blood had disappeared as if it had never been.
But, according to some witnesses, the blood at the mosque had formed a stream that drained beneath the Foundation Stone at the Dome of the Rock.
So far, Aleka had been unable to find it, and time was running out. Harvester’s Grace couldn’t remain in Eva for much longer without killing her.
“What’s this lead?”
“I found evidence of a previously unknown room underneath the chamber we searched,” Aleka said, her eyes bright, and her voice giddy with excitement.
She loved solving mysteries, especially when they were archaeological in nature.
Or, more accurately, demonological in nature.
As a leading expert at the London Museum’s Centre for Demon Anthropology and Archaeology, she totally got off on poking around dusty, ancient shit.
“I’ll be heading back to the mosque as soon as I can get permission. Want to join me?”
Scotty might not share her sister’s fascination with history and old, useless crap, but she did share Aleka’s obsession with finding out what had happened to their grandmother. Scotty missed her badass, devil-may-care G-ma every single day.
Aleka fidgeted with her ponytail as she waited for an answer. She’d never liked wearing her hair up. Scotty rarely let hers down.
She and her sister were opposites in pretty much everything.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Scotty said.
“Good.” Aleka flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. “You always had a special connection with her. It’s probably a long shot, but I’m hoping you can sense her or something.” With a reluctant sigh, she glanced over at the weapon racks. “I can always use your muscle too.”
Scotty tested the tip of her blade. It was a training weapon, so the edge was predictably dull. “Maybe if you trained more, you wouldn’t need my muscle.”
Aleka huffed with annoyance. “You sound like Dad.”
Yeah, she’d been accused of that more than once. She’d take it as a compliment. Where Aleka had taken after their mother, Scotty was definitely a daddy’s girl.
And she had the freckles to prove it.
She watched her flawlessly skinned sister scowl at the weapons. “Is he still trying to get you to train more often?”
“Every time I see him.”
“Then maybe you should do it,” Scotty suggested. “He knows what he’s doing, and he just wants us to be safe.”
“I work in a museum,” Aleka said, as predictable as a sunrise. “It’s not like I’m getting attacked on a daily basis.”
Scotty hated that stupid argument. “It doesn’t matter where you work or how safe you think you are in a public building. We’re a target for every evil scumbag who wants revenge on our family. You need to be prepared for anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Aleka waved off Scotty’s lecture the way she would an annoying gnat. “Good thing I have my little sister to protect me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, which Scotty also envied. Aleka’s favorite joke used to be that she’d gotten their mom’s chest, and Scotty got their dad’s.
It was not as bad as that.
It wasn’t.
“So, what’s new with you?” Aleka asked.
Scotty cast a surreptitious glance at the arena entrance to make sure their father wasn’t nearby as she considered whether to confide in her sister.
They’d always been as close as Scotty would want, but their differences often made it hard for them to relate.
On the other hand, Aleka was also older and had more experience with males.
So, what the heck?
“I’ve decided to lose my virginity.” There.
“Wow.” One manicured eyebrow climbed up Aleka’s forehead. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”
“I’m not.”
Scotty waited for Aleka’s judgy attitude, but all she said was, “Okay, so why now?”
“My thirtieth birthday is coming up.” She pointed her sword at her sister in a quasi-menacing manner. “And don’t give me the lecture Dad did, about being immortal and waiting for five hundred years or some shit. Sex looks fun, and I’m missing out.”
“Missing out?” Aleka barked out a bitter laugh. “Sex is overrated.”
“Really? Even with a Seminus demon?”
Suddenly fascinated by the selection of truncheons and maces next to the axes, Aleka drifted over. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Liar.” Scotty followed her sister, refusing to give her an escape route on this topic. “You can deny it all you want, but I know you hooked up with Sabre.”
Aleka halted mid-step and wheeled around, her pale cheeks burning with outrage.
Ooh, there was definitely a juicy story here.
“What did he say to you?” she demanded.
Scotty paused dramatically, mostly to watch her sister squirm. She blinked a lot when she was anxious.
“He didn’t say anything,” she finally said. “He doesn’t need to. Everyone saw you leave Aunt Limos’s party with him.”
“I told you before, we didn’t leave together. He left first.” Aleka huffed in annoyance. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Nothing happened. So, drop it.”
“Come on, sis,” Scotty begged. She, Mace, and Blade had spent weeks trying to figure out what had gone down that night.
Aleka and Sabre had flirted all day, putting their heads together as they laughed at private jokes, exchanging sneaky touches, and eye-fucking each other when they thought no one was looking.
The sultry Hawaiian air between them had practically sizzled with erotic energy.
“You can tell me. Obviously, something happened, because you both get all grumpy and evasive when the subject comes up.”
“Well,” Aleka said, pivoting crisply back to the weapon racks, “maybe you shouldn’t bring it up, then.”
Hmm. Probably not going to happen. Scotty was way too nosy. She wanted the dirt. All of it. Must have been juicy to make Aleka and Sabre miss the event that had rained their grandmother’s blood down on the party.
“If you want to know what sex with a Sem is like,” Aleka continued, as she perused the top row of close-range weapons, “I’m sure Mace or Blade would be happy to show you.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. And deep down, she was still a little bitter about that.
She’d told Aleka that she didn’t want to be a thirty-year-old virgin, but really, it was more about moving on with her life.
Maybe finally being with a guy would make her quit pining for what she couldn’t have.
“I told you. We all swore an oath to protect our friendship and our team. I can’t sleep with either of them. Also, you really should choose a longer weapon. Try a spear or a halberd. And something small you can throw.”
Ignoring Scotty, Aleka ran her finger over the worn wooden handle of a war hammer. Long or short, she preferred crushing weapons over slicing and penetrating ones.
“They don’t cause as much blood,” she’d once said.
To which their father had answered, “It depends on what you hit and how hard you strike it. Once, I knocked a guy’s head clean off with nothing but a tree branch. Crushed it like an egg. And you should have seen the geyser—”
Aleka had retched. She’d always had a weak stomach.