31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter 31
D ante stilled as he reached the foyer that led to Rieka’s room. A second later, a high-pitched roar cut through the fireworks. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as his heart skipped a beat.
The smell of rotting flesh was unmistakable. And one he had hoped to never cross paths with. Serpopard.
It was coming from Rieka’s room.
He reached it just as Rieka ran through the door as if she was being chased.
“Guards!” Rieka yelled as she barreled straight into him. “Wait—Dante. What are you doing here? There was something on the balcony.” The words rushed out nonstop.
“What happened?” Dante asked as he steadied her, taking in her disheveled appearance as he moved her away from the doorway.
Rieka appeared startled but uninjured. The scent of adrenaline and fear rolled off her in waves. He looked her over. No sign of any obvious wounds—nothing that a serpopard would have left her with. Their teeth and talons were designed to tear the flesh from bones. Rieka would not have stood a chance if it had attacked. Instead, Rieka looked like she had been rolling in dirt; fine dust covered her dark top and pants, coating them in pale brown.
Blessed silence followed the last of the fireworks. The scent of death was almost gone. The guards rushed past them in pairs, weapons at the ready as they stormed the room. Talik followed them in.
Rieka’s eyes blazed red as she stared at him with horror. “You heard that too?”
Dante moved them out of the way as another handful of guards swarmed through the door. Maneuvering Rieka, he pulled her into the nearby empty room. But he kept them close to the wall, shielding her.
The stuffiness of the suite was not a surprise; they rarely used the connecting rooms outside of his visits. The walls were thick, but the echo of the guards shouting was still discernible. Loud enough for him to know they were tearing the place apart and that the serpopard was gone.
“You can let go of me now. I think it’s gone.” She didn’t move away from him. “The fireworks scared it.”
Did he detect a hint of sympathy in her tone? Less than a minute ago, she’d sounded horrified. Now she was worried about it. Perhaps it hadn’t been a serpopard she’d seen.
She shivered under his touch, as she glanced back at the door, the adrenaline undoubtedly wearing off.
“It?” He tilted her chin, forcing her to peer up at him. Rieka’s gaze was far too expressive. She hadn’t quite learned to hide her emotions, not the way Atlanteans did. But she was keeping something from him. “What did you see?”
A frown marred her face as she clutched the journal to her chest, as if it was her only chance of survival. Something almost forgotten stirred within him at the sight. The need to protect was almost overwhelming.
“Something that shouldn’t exist,” Rieka said. She blinked deliberately as she took a step back. “It looked like an anaconda had bred with a sabertooth tiger.” She opened the journal, hastily turned the pages until she found what she was looking for, and flashed it at him. She waited a second before she continued. “You don’t appear surprised. Or shocked.”
A charcoal rendition of a mated serpopard pair, their necks intertwined, stared straight at him. It was a near-perfect likeness of the creatures. He’d promised Rieka he wouldn’t lie; he was not about to go back on it. “Serpopards. They became extinct over eleven thousand years ago.”
Rieka stared at the drawing, then back at him. “They look pretty much alive to me.”
“They appear to have been able to reintroduce some of their numbers over the last thousand years.”
Rieka gave him an incredulous stare. “And you have just decided not to let us mere humans know they still exist? I’ve seen this movie, and it never ends well.”
It was growing increasingly difficult to keep up with Rieka’s obscure human cultural references, particularly when they were older than she was. An unusual coping mechanism, but one that was growing on him.
“Most Atlanteans don’t know they exist,” Dante answered truthfully. He and Anhur were determined to keep it that way.
They had only accidentally come across the existence of the serpopards five years earlier. From what they had gathered, the population was still small enough that it remained below the detection threshold, and the rare sightings could be attributed to wild animals. The serpopards favored deep underground caverns for their hunting grounds, but that was perhaps changing. If the intel from Kade was true, someone had introduced them to the subterranean tunnel systems within New York City. “It may cause mass hysteria if humans and Atlanteans become aware of them.”
“How come we haven’t come across them in the fossil records?”
Always pragmatic. He liked that about Rieka. “The first fossils were not uncovered until the late twentieth century, and we have disguised them as dinosaurs.”
Kade had reluctantly told them what they actually were. As a member of the hunter class, Kade was one of the few Atlanteans who had been aware serpopards still existed in the world, and one of the few who had been trained to hunt them. It had been an enlightening conversation.
Rieka muttered something under her breath, sounding suspiciously like a dinosaur park. Her knuckles were white as she held onto the journal. Her heart raced faster than normal. But that wasn’t what finally caught his attention.
He stiffened, pulling Rieka closer to him. “Why is there blood on your arm?” Dante stared at the bracelet she wore, silently berating himself for not noticing the injury earlier.
“It seems to have attached itself to me,” Rieka said as she turned her arm to show him the entry wounds. She chewed her lower lip. “The arms have inserted themselves.”
The fear from the creature had now transferred to the object on her arm. Dante gently touched Rieka, careful not to touch the wounds. “Does it hurt?”
“Not unless I try to pull them out,” Rieka admitted. “This isn’t some sort of torture device that I accidentally put on, is it?”
He didn’t know. A rush of rage ran through him at the sheer arrogance of not realizing he had put Rieka in danger. He was more than aware of how Vandana and her priestesses had notoriously used everything at their disposal as potential weapons. He forced himself to focus on what he could influence. Aadya may have the answer—if his grandmother was in the mood to share.
“We will get it off.” It was a promise.
Rieka nodded as she covered her arm. She went to move, but he pulled her closer to him. Having her near him soothed him as he embraced Rieka’s warmth. Rieka was safe. And mostly unharmed.
“You are taking this surprisingly well.”
Rieka laughed. The sound curled around him. “I’m pretty sure I’m still in the denial stage.”
Knock. Knock.
He looked up at the door as it slowly opened. Even from where he was standing, the damage could be seen through the half-opened door. Torn tapestries and objects had been carelessly thrown around the room. Kai had used his guards to search the space, and to send a message to Dante.
“The guards are done.” Talik walked out, leaving them alone.
Rieka turned and stared at Dante. “Someone had access to my room the entire time?”
“This room is a foyer. It connects the two side rooms together, but only to those granted access to it,” Dante said. He paused. “Fingerprint access. The room you are staying in was Aldora’s.”
“And the connecting room?”
“Mine.” Dante half-turned. He already knew what Rieka’s response would be before he asked. “Would you prefer to stay here or see what the damage is in your room?”
Rieka clutched the journal against her chest. “Lead the way.”
R ieka stared. The guards had destroyed the room in their efforts to protect her. She didn’t know where to look. Nor could she get over the fact the nightmare creatures were real. Her mom had drawn them in her journal, and they appeared every couple of pages, but Rieka had always presumed they were a figment of Lilian’s imagination.
But that wasn’t the most pressing thing on her mind. She had also outright lied to Dante about the bracelet. Ever since the vision, she had been plagued by a dull throbbing feeling through her arm that centered on the bracelet. Every so often, a sharper pain would shoot through her. It was like a small electrical shock racing around her body. Not enough to be debilitating, but enough for her to notice it. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she couldn’t risk being placed under lock and key.
Dante stood to the side, talking to Talik about who knew what. Even though he appeared engrossed in the conversation, she knew Dante was wholly aware of everything she was doing. It should scare the hell out of her, but right now, it was comforting. Maybe she didn’t need to deal with this mess on her own.
Lost in thought, she stared at the glass door. The animal had almost knocked it down. She hadn’t realized how close it had gotten to her. She could still see the way its orange eyes stared straight through her as if it was looking for something within her. It was beyond unnerving.
“What do you want to do?”
Rieka sighed as she turned to face Dante.
He appeared unaffected by what had happened throughout the evening except for the subtle glint of fury in his gaze that she occasionally caught.
The guards had torn the room apart, and she had no idea what they thought they were looking for. The animal had been the size of an oversized lion. Priceless artifacts and keepsakes had been destroyed or discarded, as if they were rubbish. Her clothes had been thrown haphazardly around the room and trampled. The emerald dress she had worn to the gala lay in an uneven heap by the bed. The aftermath of the search told her exactly what the guards thought of her. Rieka struggled to not let her feelings show. She held onto the journal tighter, glad that she’d had the foresight to grab it before the guards could have torn it to shreds. Or taken it somewhere else. The room was a clusterfuck. And that was putting it nicely.
Dante touched her shoulder. “Rieka?” Patience tinged his voice.
She wouldn’t have expected or have guessed he was capable of it when they first met. He watched her as if she was a fragile piece of glass seconds away from breaking. It took her another second to realize they were the only ones left in the room.
“It may take a couple of hours, but the room can be fixed and ready for use again,” Dante offered.
“No.” The thought of staying in the room for a minute longer was not an option. It made her skin crawl. She didn’t need to close her eyes to feel the breath of the serpopard or imagine the damage its yellow teeth could do to her. “Can I stay somewhere else?”
Dante slowly looked her over, concern flashing in his gaze. But it was quickly replaced by his normal icy expression. Anyone else in their right mind would have demanded a flight out of Egypt as soon as possible. Instead, she was a lot closer to finding out her mother’s secrets, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she got some answers. She ran her hand through her hair in frustration. Three days until she was back home, and she could deal with the emotional aftermath. But right now, she was only focusing on the next twelve hours.
“Do you have anything in here that can’t be replaced?”
She glanced at the journal; her other hand clutched her pendant. In any other situation, she would have laughed at the absurdity of the question. “I can replace everything else I own in the room.” Rieka didn’t wait for a response once her mind was made up. She had spent enough time in there.
Outside in the corridor, she watched the guards warily. Their stoic appearance gave nothing away. The fledgling emotions she had felt from them before were gone, and she was left with a wall of nothing, which suited her. She didn’t think she could deal with any of her newfound heightened senses. Dealing with her own emotions was more than enough. And there was one feeling that she couldn’t quite understand. The trust she was putting in Dante terrified her. This was the second time she had turned to him for help. Every time it was like there was a magnetic pull toward him, and she was powerless to fight it. Trust was not something that came easily to her. She pushed the thought away before she could analyze it. Her sudden reliance on the Atlantean was nothing she wanted to look into, not just yet.
Dante followed her. He remained a step behind her, giving her the personal space she needed. She turned the corner when it dawned on her that she did not know where she was going. Dante stopped a few feet away and waved at the almost hidden scanner. It blinked green and emitted a low beep before the door swung open, revealing a large, spacious room. It had an identical layout to her room, but was decorated with darker tones and masculine furniture. The room looked simple but expensive.
“You can have my room.” Dante moved to stand next to her. “The guards will ensure you are not disturbed. Anhur has reinforced the security around the Arx.”
Like before? She bit her lip before she said something she would regret. The adrenaline had quickly faded, replaced by a wave of tiredness. So many questions she wanted to ask, but right now, she didn’t want to think about any of it.
How did she put the words together? She had been on her own for so long she had forgotten how to ask for help. To rely on someone else. Truth be told, she had Rory, but she had never been comfortable asking for help—not even from her best friend. Not when she had other priorities.
She swallowed. All she could do was ask and be ready for the rejection. “I don’t want to be alone.”