Ascension (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

S
he knew it! Drake Mallone, the slimy, weaselly little bastard. No matter that his fingerprint hadn’t matched the one on the scroll. Okay, so he wasn’t the one Cronos had possessed, but he was guilty of murdering Chosen! It might not have been his scent on the scroll, but he’d know who it belonged to.

Kyana nodded her thanks to Nettles, grabbed the list, and bolted from the room, Geoff hot on her heels.

“That clatty clackled bastard of a cunt,” Geoffrey seethed, looking ready to gnaw through Nettles’s table. “I knew there was a reason I wanted to kill him.”

“Other than for being Haven’s boyfriend, you mean?”

He sneered at her, and Kyana quickly navigated the streets of Below, desperately trying to rein in her own anger.

Ryker caught up with them just outside the portal alcove and jerked Kyana around to face him. “You have that kamikaze look in your eyes, Ky. Don’t go off half-cocked and do something stupid. This is where you let me do
my
job.”

She hated that he was mastering the skill of reading her so well. “I should have known it was him. Who lets the woman he loves return home alone to unknown circumstance when the world is so dangerous? Where was he when Haven returned? And since he’s been back, I’ve seen him once, maybe twice. What the hell is keeping him so busy?”

Ryker nodded. “We’ll find out as soon as we get our hands on him.”

“And if we’re scary enough, we’ll find out whose smell is on the scroll.” The lock, she was beginning to suspect, smelled of Cronos. Just as the island had.

“You sure you don’t want to step out of this now that we have his name? You’re not dealing with a stranger here, Ky. You’re dealing with your best friend’s boyfriend. This is personal. It could get ugly.”

It would kill Haven if Kyana took Drake in. Good-bye friendship.

But if Kyana wasn’t the one to bring him to justice, good-bye pride.

“I’m sure,” she muttered. “For her sake, I’ll try not to rip his head off, but I’m not making any promises.”

She would do her damnedest to stay calm until she was sure Haven was safe, though. The last thing she needed was for Haven to confront Drake and put herself in danger. Better to keep Haven out of it altogether.

“Yes you are making promises. To me. I’ve let you do your job and now you’re going to promise to let me do mine. I’ll question him, Ky. The right way.”

“Whatever.” She started for the door. “Let’s go. We’ll see if he’s with Haven at my place. I want that bastard’s balls in my hand before sunrise.”

R
yker grabbed Kyana’s hand before she could open the door to her house. “You have to play it cool. If he’s in there with Haven, we don’t want her to get hurt.”

Kyana glared. She didn’t need to be told that. Haven was her best friend. She deserved to be told what was going on and shouldn’t have to watch her boyfriend get torn to pieces.

Geoffrey stepped around them both and opened the door. Darkness shuttered the house, but it didn’t hamper their movements as they made their way through the living room. Haven had been here recently, but her scent was fading. She wasn’t here anymore.

Hoping to figure out where her friend might have gone, Kyana pushed open Haven’s bedroom door.

“Give me a mo,” Geoffrey said. “Maybe I can find out where they are before we go traipsing about.” He pulled a cell phone from his back pocket. Kyana boggled, watching him flip it open. “Where did you get that?”

“I’ve had it.”

The rapid succession of button pushing fascinated Kyana as she watched from over his shoulder—a safe distance away. A Vampyre with a cell phone just felt . . . wrong. She’d only attempted to use one once, and the radio waves had nearly made her head explode. Apparently, since Geoff didn’t have a problem with the device, it was her Lychen makeup causing the havoc.

He pressed the contraption to his ear. Kyana could hear the ringing from where she stood.

“She’s not answering.” He snapped the phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket. The frustration on his face aged him a hundred years. “Stay put. I’ll be back in ten.”

Before she could demand to know where he was going, he was gone.

“We’ll find Drake,” Ryker said, his smooth tone grating on Kyana’s nerves.

“Yeah, we will. I just want to find Haven before he knows we’re after him.”

“He can’t possibly know anything, so she should be safe.”

“The last thing I want to hear is
should be
when you’re talking about one of the only human types worth saving in this entire world.”

Leaving him standing in the middle of the bedroom, Kyana attempted to reach out with her Vamp senses. She searched the entire house, not bothering to turn on lights, hoping to gain some idea where Haven had run off to. She could trace Haven and Drake, but concrete answers would be faster.

“Where the hell are they?”

Returning to the bedroom, Kyana brushed past Ryker, who was bent over, looking under the bed as though Haven might have been stuffed under it. She needlessly flipped on a light and waited for him to look up at her. She held up her hand, her fingers three inches apart. “You do know we’re not looking for little people.”

The puzzled look on his face was adorable and did nothing to hide the faint brush of pink on his cheeks. “I thought maybe a note could have fallen off the nightstand when we opened the door,” he mumbled.

She turned away to check the room again. Drake’s scent was strong here, but it trailed away with Haven’s. They were definitely together.

She had opened the closet to check the rows of Haven’s clothes when she heard the sound of leather and chains. She spun around to find Geoff standing at the door.

“That was fast,” Ryker said, pulling himself back to his feet and brushing off his knees.

“No sign of them Below,” Geoff said, rubbing his eyes with his thumbs. His heaving chest told her he’d touched his Vampyric power long enough to break into a sixty-mile-per-hour run at some point. Still, how had he found out anything so quickly? Where had he gone?

“Okay, so we look Above,” Kyana said. “You stay here. If she comes back, let me know. If I find her, I’ll do the same.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Not this time.” She pulled open the front door. “If you go, I’ll have no one to let me know if Haven comes home.”

She waited only long enough for Geoff to nod in agreement before turning to find Ryker blocking the exit.

“You need someone to go with you.”

“No, I don’t. You go back to the fort. Start whatever needs to be done to have Drake questioned the minute I return with him.” Kyana tried to shove him out of her way but he didn’t budge.

“And leave you to bring Drake in alone?” He shook his head. The knowing gleam in his eyes didn’t ease that he’s-getting-too-familiar feeling itching beneath her skin. He didn’t trust her not to rip Drake’s throat out.

“You’re not going without me, Ky. Drake is mine.”

Like hell.

Knowing she didn’t have time to fight over this, she conceded. Sprinting to her room, she pulled off her boots, then tossed them and a change of clothes into a backpack. She returned to the living room and shoved the bag against Ryker’s chest. “You better be able to keep up and don’t you dare lose that bag. I won’t take it easy, and I won’t wait on you.”

He stepped away from the door. “Do your thing.”

Kyana knelt, placed her hands on the ground, and lowered her head. She closed her eyes and blocked out everything but the Lychen trying to claw its way free.

Ryker watched Kyana’s muscles stretch, pull, and rearrange around her frame. The fine hairs all over her body oozed from her pores, thickening into a svelte coat of ebony, fascinating him. It was all he could do to tear his gaze away and open the door so she could follow whatever scent she’d picked up.

He barely opened it a crack before she slid between his legs and leaped down the steps onto the sidewalk, lifting her head to the breeze. The wind kicked up, ushering leaves onto the street, ruffling Kyana’s silky coat like tiny ripples of water. Ryker followed her outside, shut the door, and slipped her bag over his shoulder.

Fifteen minutes later, Kyana had come to a dead stop in front of the lighthouse, her tail thumping wildly as she whimpered in victory. Ryker craned his neck and found himself peering up at a hundred and sixty-five feet of black and white spirals.

Keeping close on her heels, they circled the base until they came to the entrance. It was cracked open. Either squatters had broken in, or someone, hopefully Drake, had come for the view. As soon as they stepped inside the stark white entrance, Kyana faced Ryker, nipping at her bag.

With a sigh, he dropped the duffel and turned his back to her.

A moment later, she tapped his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“You sure he’s here?”

Kyana nodded. “Yeah, but Haven’s not with him.”

“Good. Then we don’t have to worry about her getting hurt when we take the bastard down.”

Chapter Twenty-six

T
he poor prick was drunk and barely coherent when Ryker and Kyana finally reached the top of the lighthouse. Drake had been waiting for Haven to show up, and, apparently when she’d stood him up, he’d lost his misery in a case of Sam Adams. As they’d dragged him down the spiral staircase, he’d tried to fight back, but his rubbery arms and legs hadn’t done him much good. The fact that he hadn’t even asked why they were taking him in for questioning was enough for Ryker to suspect the ass was a hundred percent guilty of the charges that were about to fall on his head. Still, Drake needed to be questioned, and Ryker doubted he’d spill anything useful with his brain as muddled with booze as it was.

As they passed through the Castillo de San Marcos and into Below, they were greeted by several groups of gawkers, shocked, no doubt, to see a Mystic—ex or not—being dragged like a common criminal by Ares’s general. But Ryker kept a firm grip on the back of Drake’s neck, shoving him through the crowds Below toward the street of town house–looking dwellings where Jordan Faye was residing while she trained. Geoff was waiting on the doorstep of Jordan’s place.

“ ’Bout damned time,” he grumbled, snatching Drake’s arm as though he thought he might take over the capture. Ryker yanked Drake back, receiving a howl of pain from Drake.

“How did you know we were coming here?” Kyana asked.

Geoffrey shrugged, the tick in his jaw as tense as the grip Ryker was using to keep Drake pinned to his side. He knew, if given half a chance, Kyana and Geoff would tear into his catch without worrying whether they got any of their questions answered. It was up to Ryker to make sure they didn’t fuck this up. He narrowed his eyes, silently warning Geoff to cool his temper.

“We get him to Jordan with all his fingers and toes,” he said, pushing past Geoff and Kyana to shove open Jordan’s door. “We question him, and if he isn’t helpful, we see if she can read him. Until I have my answers, he’s off-limits. Got it?”

He wanted the bastard beat down as much as they did, but he was too well trained to let his emotions get the better of him, and he knew from experience that any punishment Kyana or Geoffrey could deliver to Drake would pale in comparison to what the Order could do. He wanted justice for all the murders Drake had committed. Death was just too easy. If either of them stepped over the lines of the law, he was going to have to take them down. While knocking the hell out of Geoffrey might brighten his day, Ryker didn’t want to delve into round two with Kyana. Not after he’d worked so hard to find a peaceful existence between them.

“If he gets away—”

“He won’t.” Ryker cut Kyana off before she could deliver yet another empty threat. “Everybody inside. Now.”

Shoving Drake through the doorway first, Ryker slipped inside Jordan’s temporary quarters. The Chosen Fate gasped at the intrusion, and stumbled onto the worn sofa behind her. She wasn’t alone. A round Latina woman sat in the chair opposite, her dark brown eyes wide with fear, and standing behind the sofa were Lachesis and Clotho. Neither Fate looked the least bit taken aback by the sudden intrusion.

Drake shoved his weight backward, slamming into Ryker’s chest. Ryker didn’t so much as rock against the weight. Drake’s frantic gaze bounced between the Fates. “Tell him to let me go. I’m still protected by the laws of the Order.”

Fear seemed to have sobered him. His slur was gone and the glazed look coating his eyes had cleared.

“Answer their questions and no one will hurt you.”

Drake jutted his chin toward the Fates. “I don’t want them touching me!”

“Then talk. If we get what we need from your lips, they won’t have to dig through your skull.”

Drake’s eyes bulged and his face turned tomato red. He seemed to consider his options for a second. “I’m not answering shit.”

Lachesis stepped forward. “What has this man done? Is he the one?”

Ryker nodded. “One of them, yes. You can read him and get us the answers he’s refusing to give?”

Lachesis gestured toward Jordan, who had gone as pale as the moon. The Latina woman had eased into the corner of the room.

“Jordan has my powers now, but with my help, she might be ready to do as you ask.”

“No way. I want to hear him say it. I want his admission.” Kyana leaned into Drake and growled. “We know your hands are bloody. We know you’re responsible for killing off some of the Chosen. What we don’t know is who you’re working with, Drake. Who has the key to Tartarus?”

“Jesus, you have no idea who you’re messing with, do you?”

Kyana smiled. “Do you mean you? Or maybe Cronos?”

When Drake’s eyes widened in surprise, satisfaction filled Ryker’s gut. “That’s right. We know all about Cronos’s attempt to come back. He waited. He knew, just as all the gods knew, of the prophecy about the gods losing their powers. It’s no coincidence that the gates of Tartarus opened just when the gods are their weakest, is it? It was planned this way. But you’ve murdered people for no reason, Drake, because we’re going to stop whatever scheme Cronos has cooked up. If you want any leniency at all, you’ll give us the name of the one Cronos has been contacting.”

A glimmer of insanity flickered in Drake’s eyes. “Let’s say you’re right and I’m working for Cronos. You expect me to be so afraid of what
you
might do to me that I’d double-cross
him
? How stupid are you people?”

“You’re a damned coward,” Kyana hissed. “What the hell did Haven ever see in you?”

“You shut the hell up about me and Haven.” Drake’s face reddened but just as quickly paled again. A smirk replaced his scowl. “Is that what this is really about? Trying to eliminate the competition? I always suspected Geoff had a thing for Haven, but you, Kyana? Are you a dyk—”

Ryker watched as Geoffrey’s fist slammed into Drake’s nose, but was too angered by Drake’s smugness to stop it. Drake fell against Ryker, his hands covering his face as he let out a scream.

This was getting them nowhere. Ryker adjusted his grip on Drake and shoved him toward Jordan. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wait. Who’s she?” Kyana asked, thrusting her chin toward the chubby, cute Latina. “Whatever he tells us should probably be heard only by a few.”

“She is Carmen,” Clotho said, her tone bitter. “My Chosen. And she can hear whatever is said here.”

Kyana watched Ryker drag Drake toward Jordan and force him to his knees. When she stepped farther into the room, she noticed that each of the Fates and the Chosen had tearstains on their cheeks.

“Is something going on? Something that might prohibit Jordan from performing? She looks upset.”

Clotho moved to the corner of the room and pulled Carmen into her arms. “We’ve just found out another Chosen was murdered.”

“Whose?”

“Artemis’s.” Clotho sniffed. “We’ve had several more deaths recently, but Artemis is in need of a replacement soon. I’m not certain we’ll find one in time, but we’re working on it.”

Artemis? Her powers must be fading more rapidly than Kyana had realized for the Fates to be so worried. No wonder the goddess had been less than useful on the hunt for the key.

“The sooner you get answers from him,” Kyana said, thrusting her thumb toward Drake, “the sooner we can stop these deaths.”

“What should I ask him?” Jordan asked. Her body had taken on the aura of the Fates since Kyana had last seen her. She was all shimmery and glowy. A far cry from the filth-covered body Kyana had recovered from the trash.

Unwilling to stand by as a silent spectator, Kyana stepped forward. “We need to know who he’s working with.”

“He can lead us to the next Chosen marked for death,” Ryker added. “If we know who else is out there killing the Chosen and who their next target is, we can finally stop the killings and get back your key.”

Jordan stood and rested her hand on Ryker’s arm. She smiled up at him, a lovesick puppy. “I’ll try.”

“Whatever you think you can do, it’s too late.” Panic or fear caused Drake’s voice to quiver.

With a furtive glance at her mentor, Jordan clenched her fists and closed her eyes. Then, reaching out, she placed her palms on either side of Drake’s head. He jerked, attempted to scramble out of her reach, but Ryker simply kicked him back into obedience.

“You’ll regret this,” Drake seethed. “Whatever you find out will put you in danger. He’ll kill you all faster than you can fucking blink!”

Jordan opened her eyes, wiggled her fingers. “Nothing. I was, however, able to sense the truth of his words. He is not working alone, and he most certainly fears this person more than he fears any of us.”

“That’s it? That’s all you got?” Kyana demanded.

Jordan looked pleadingly to Lachesis. “I don’t understand. He’s somehow able to block me from reaching deeper to uncover the answers you seek.”

A self-satisfied smirk crossed Drake’s face. His crooked, bent-out-of-shape nose had finally stopped bleeding, but the crusty red liquid still covered it. Kyana couldn’t tell if the sight made her hungry or nauseated.

“I told you. He’s beyond your reach. And he’s not alone. There are dozens more like me. Hundreds. Thousands even. If you kill me, someone else will take my place.”

Kyana hated the smugness of his challenge and wished, more than anything, that she could take him up on it and break his pale neck.

“I told you, she is not ready. She’ll need my help.” Lachesis stepped forward and placed her hands on her Chosen’s shoulders. With light force, she pushed Jordan to her knees so that the woman knelt eye to eye with Drake. “Keep your hands upon him, Jordan. When he speaks, I want you to find the truth or lies in his words.”

As Jordan nervously nodded, her tongue flicked over her dry lips. With stiff legs, Lachesis circled Jordan and came to stand at Drake’s back. She placed her fingertips to the back of his skull and closed her eyes.

Drake looked ready to jump out of his skin, his gaze darting frantically about the room, no doubt looking for escape.
Good luck, Chuck.
Kyana stood between him and the door, and the chances of him reaching a window before she or Ryker caught him, well, Drake wasn’t quick or spry enough for that.

“You are taking orders from someone else?” Lachesis asked, her airy voice filling the small house like a ghostly moan. Kyana leaned against the wall near the door, her body alert for any sudden movement from Drake.

“Drake rubbed his palms down his dirty jeans. “I don’t have to answer your questions. You hold no power here. None of you do.”

The smile livening up Lachesis’s face was far more sincere than Drake’s. She was loving this, being able to use her powers, even if it was through Jordan, who looked ready to vomit or faint.

“Remain silent if you wish,” the Fate cooed. “We have no need for words to know your truth.”

A bead of sweat rolled from his hairline down his broken nose. “Liar.”

“Shall we test it?” Lachesis nodded at Jordan, who once again closed her eyes. “Is the person you work for a member of the Order?”

“He is not,” Jordan answered on behalf of Drake. “Though he once was.”

Leaning over Drake the slightest bit, Lachesis whispered, “See? Remain silent. We will speak for you.”

“Does he mean Cronos?” Kyana’s question earned her a startled glance from Lachesis. She obviously wanted to question Kyana’s mention of the feared god, but didn’t want to risk losing her link to Drake.

“No, not Cronos,” Jordan answered. “Another, the most loyal of worshippers.”

“Damn it, give me a name!”

Ryker’s fingers bit into Kyana’s arm in response to her outburst. He leaned into her back and whispered in her ear, “Give them a chance, Ky.”

A gentle smile covered Lachesis’s face.

“No.” Drake struggled to get away. “I won’t tell you. I won’t.”

Jordan wiggled her fingers and set them to either side of Drake’s head once again. This time, his head slumped forward, the fight in him gone as Jordan’s magic penetrated his blood.

The door burst open. Jordan gave a squeak of alarm and jumped away from Drake, her connection to him broken. Drake collapsed onto his side, unconscious and barely breathing from the sudden sap of magic draining his mind.

Kyana turned to shout at their intruder, only to find Atropos standing in the entryway. She held a steady glare on Kyana as she drifted across the room to stand behind Clotho and rested her hands on her sister’s shoulders.

“You brought it?” Clotho asked, reaching up to clasp her sister’s hand.

Atropos nodded. “What is going on here?”

“We were
about
to find out who has the key,” Kyana snapped, her gaze falling on Drake. “Can we finish now? Or is he going to be out like that for a while?”

“A moment please,” Clotho said, her voice steady and calm even while Atropos’s gaze was wild and scolding. She took a scroll from Atropos and scanned it. “Have we located a tracer for these?”

“Not yet,” Atropos said. “Geoffrey, maybe.”

Lachesis snapped her head up. “Not Geoffrey. He has other tasks to see to.”

“What do you need a tracer for?” Kyana asked.