Ascension (7 page)

“I’m not staying out here by myself. I watch scary movies. I know what happens to the blond girl in the woods.”

“In that case, I’ll lead the way,” Kyana said.

Haven jabbed a finger into Ryker’s chest. “I don’t mind being mauled by Dark Breeds. It’s the little things with tails, wings, or too many legs that I don’t deal with. So if you see one, you stomp it to death, got it?”

Ryker wasn’t certain but he thought he saw a spark of jealousy in Kyana’s eyes as she watched them. He smiled and threw his arm blatantly over Haven’s shoulders. “You got it, Goldie.”

Kyana’s scowl deepened. Oh yeah. She was jealous, all right.

“You two ready, or would you rather wait here and chitchat while I check this out?”

“Lead on. Just take it slow,” Ryker instructed.

As Kyana entered the cave, she blocked out the image of Ryker’s arm draped over her best friend’s shoulders and forced herself to keep her pace slow, even though a small piece of her wouldn’t have minded if Haven tripped a little. Then again, Ryker apparently liked his damsels in distress, and she didn’t want to give them even more reason to cozy up. Though why she should care was beyond her. Getting Haven away from Drake would be a plus.

But the thought of the diversion coming in the form of Ryker made Kyana’s stomach twist.

Silently cursing her girly moment of jealousy, Kyana scanned the dark crevices and ceiling for anything that might be a threat. When she neared the back of the cave, she paused long enough to hold up her hand to silently instruct Ryker to keep Haven still before moving to the distant corner. She knelt among the scattered remains of animals and various clay and metal utensils.

“Ow!”

Kyana jumped at the sound of Haven’s holler and spun to find her friend bracing herself against the wall.

“You let go of me and—oh my God. That is way grosser than bat poo!”

She was backing away, her gaze locked on the corner by her feet. Kyana followed Haven’s attention and saw a skeleton wrapped in a thick layer of dust resting precariously against the rough stone wall.

Kyana moved closer to the body. She rested her hands on her knees and scanned the time-whitened bones. When Ryker knelt beside her, she gently lifted the bony right hand in hers, cradling her left under it to keep it intact.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

“What is it?” Haven fumbled in the darkness, and Ryker produced a small penlight and clicked it on to guide her to their side. “Don’t touch it, Kyana! That’s freaking disgusting.”

“It can’t hurt you, and if it does come alive, we’ll feed Ryker to it while we make our escape.”

“I’m not sure even
I
know how to take out bones,” Ryker mumbled.

Kyana didn’t either. They’d probably need Haven’s witchery for that.

“So who’s the bony guy?” Haven asked, keeping her distance.

Ryker turned the tiny beam to Kyana’s hand. Not even time had stolen the luster of the large, golden ring still on the right hand of the skeleton. On the ruby red stone in the center, an engraved sickle.

The mark of Cronos.

“Definitely the right island.” Kyana moved to slide the ring off the fleshless finger when Ryker’s hand stopped her.

“Don’t.”

She shook free of Ryker’s warm touch. “Why not? We should take it. Maybe seeing it will bring some of his followers out of hiding.”

Ryker shook his head, his blond hair falling over his eyes as he stared down at the corpse. “It’s his conduit. The equivalent of Zeus’s staff, Hades’s amulet—”

“Oh, it’s one of those!” Haven’s sudden excitement had her apparently forgetting her disgust long enough to kneel and examine the ring herself. “Do you have
any
idea the kind of spells I could manage with that thing? Oh, Kyana! Astral projection! I could finally get it right.”

She reached for it, but just as he had with Kyana, Ryker pushed Haven’s hand away. “Only the gods possess the ability to hold the Eyes of Power. If either of you touch it, it will kill you.”

Kyana stood, suddenly unwilling to even breathe on the ring, just in case Ryker’s threat was true. “So we should leave it here? Risk it being taken by someone else?”

“It’s probably safer here,” Ryker said. “Only two of us can even port here anymore.”

“And yet, the key might have vanished from here, Ryker. Are you so confident that you’d risk it?”

“Why would they take the key and leave the ring?” Haven asked. “Wait—never mind. Death to whoever touches it. Got it.”

Kyana didn’t acknowledge Haven’s comment. Her staring match with Ryker was so heavy with tension, it filled the small cave like fog. Finally, Ryker closed his eyes and muttered, “Shit,” before reaching for the ring. “It shouldn’t affect me.”

Kyana grabbed his hand. “You’re only half god.
Shouldn’t
doesn’t sit too well with me.”

“It’s all we’ve got. Either I hold on to it, or it stays. Make the call, boss lady.”

Kyana stared at the ring, debating their options. If they left it, then the chance of someone else getting her hands on it would gnaw at her. However, touching it could kill Ryker.

If they left it, it might remain somewhat safe. After all, it had been here, untouched, for thousands of years. But she couldn’t bring herself to risk leaving it behind. She didn’t know what kind of power a conduit might hold, but it was enough to worry Ryker, and that was reason enough in her book to make sure it returned with them.

“We take it.” She squeezed Ryker’s arm. “But don’t be macho. If it starts to affect you, get rid of it. I don’t care where you lose it, just don’t die on me.”

“Ah.” Ryker smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’re worried about me.”

Warmth spread up her arm. She snatched her hand away. “Without you, we spend the rest of our lives on this island. And I have a very long life expectancy, so don’t do anything stupid.”

They held their collective breaths as Ryker reached for the ring, slid it slowly off the bones, and tucked it into his front pants pocket. When his leg didn’t fall off and he didn’t start screaming in pain, everyone exhaled. Poor Haven looked as though she was going to pass out.

Kyana felt as if she already had.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ryker said, not looking too good himself.

“You’re okay, then?”

He nodded, though Kyana noticed a small bead of perspiration forming at his hairline. “I will be once I get some air.”

Kyana watched both Ryker and Haven climb safely out of the cave before leaning heavily against the rocky wall. She took a moment to collect herself, unwilling to delve into the reason her heart was still racing.

“He isn’t yours to lose,” she whispered to the now lonely cave entrance. But even knowing that Ryker didn’t belong to her, she couldn’t help but feel weak in the knees at the thought of his death—and it had nothing to do with being trapped on this island.

Chapter Eight

T
hey’d been on the isle for close to twelve hours and Ryker hadn’t seen, heard, or smelled anything. Not even a bird had chirped. It was kind of eerie in a peaceful way.

Still, they had several more hours to kill before he could use his porting abilities again. Kyana wanted to explore the island further in hopes of finding a hint that someone else had been here. She had her mind so set on finding the key’s trail that he hadn’t been able to make her listen to reason. The chances of finding anything more than they had were slim. They would have picked up something by now.

As they plowed their way through even more brush, daybreak was fast approaching. Kyana had refused to break even though Ryker had made the suggestion several times, worried that the human-born Witch wasn’t up to so much vigorous hiking. She’d impressed him, though. Hadn’t complained once, with the exception of the moment she’d walked through a spiderweb and had shrieked loud enough to wake Cronos from his permanent nap.

Haven sat on a fallen log and pulled a bottle of water from her bag. “The sun’s going to be up in ten. We need to get you ready, I’m trying a new potion.” She stirred the pinkish brew with her finger. “It’s full of adaptogen herbs and Reishi mushrooms, and those little blue bits are Labradorite crystal flakes. You shouldn’t taste them, though. I put enough persimmons in this sucker to hide the metallic taste.”

Curious, Ryker took a step closer, sniffed the now pink water. It didn’t smell like persimmons. In fact, skunk ass might be a closer description. “What’s that for?”

“This should keep her strength up longer
and
keep her from being so drained tonight.”

He was about to ask why she needed a potion for any of that, but Kyana took the bottle, toasted Haven with it, and downed the contents. “Nope, not enough persimmons,” she gasped, setting the bottle at her feet. “Why don’t I get any of the strawberry potions?”

“Those are mine.” Haven grinned. “Besides, strawberry isn’t strong enough to hide the bitterness of those herbs. I was hoping persimmons would be.”

“What about licorice?” When they both turned to stare at Ryker, he added, “Ky likes raki. Anise has a strong licorice taste. It could hide the taste of just about anything, I’d think.”

Though Kyana didn’t look like she much appreciated his butting in, Haven offered a soft smile. “I’ll try that for her next time.”

Kyana grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m going to change.” She walked toward the thick brush surrounding their clearing and offered one last glare from over her shoulder. “I’d tell you not to look, but I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

He sighed. She still thought he wasn’t interested. Probably better that way, but irritating as hell with all her snide comments.

He watched her make her way to a short bush that was only tall enough to hide her rear end. Great. He should really turn away, but as she pulled off her jacket and tank top, he couldn’t muster the strength to look away. Her pale white back glistened with the day’s perspiration, making her glow like an iridescent goddess. Slender, well-toned muscles rippled down her arms and back, her waist diving inward just where it was meant to, giving her an hourglass shape that had him growing hard in an instant.

If she offered herself to him now as she had so long ago, would he be strong enough to refuse? Not likely. Not with the itch consuming his fingers as they begged to trace the path from her neck to the small of her back where the rise of her ass peeked out from the top of her hiding spot.

“Want a napkin for your drool?”

At the sound of Haven’s voice, Ryker jumped like a thirteen-year-old caught with a
Playboy
magazine and turned away. “Just guarding her back.”

“Her back
side
more like.” Haven’s smile made Ryker’s cheeks burn. “You like her, but I won’t tell. Whatever it is about the two of you that makes you think you have to keep hating each other is hard to watch, though. You should just fornicate and get it out of your systems.”

“Fornicate?” Ryker snorted. “No one’s used that word since Lincoln was president.” The sound of the bushes rustling caught his attention again, but he refused to look. “Besides, it’s not like that with us. She’s Vampyre. I’m . . . not.”

“When was your last relationship, Ryker?”

The question caught him so off-guard he answered without worrying about how personal it was. “Five years ago.”

Simone had been lovely, patient, kind. But sadly, he hadn’t thought about her in years.

“And how long did it last?”

He shrugged. “Nearly two years.”

Haven nodded. “I thought so.”

“Thought what?”

“You’re probably some sort of serial monogamist. That’s why you turned Kyana down. You know she’s not.”

He raked his hand through his hair and narrowed his gaze on the spot Kyana had been standing moments ago. She was gone. “No, she certainly isn’t. She likes to play.”

“Playing can be fun. You should consider trying it. Oh, here she comes.” Haven pointed at the bushes, which were twitching like they were having a seizure. “Try not to stare, okay? And remember, she’s not a big dog, she’s a wolf. Treat her like one.”

Haven offered him a bright smile before heading toward Kyana. “I’m going to grab her clothes. Be right back.”

He saw Kyana’s muzzle first. The long ebony snout peeked out of the brush, nostrils flaring as she breathed in the scents around her. As she eased into the open, Ryker sucked in his breath. She was beautiful. Glossy fur; clear, sharp eyes. Her legs moved in determined strides, flesh stretching over toned muscles, full of nothing but grace. He’d seen Lychen before and had never given them much thought. But Kyana . . . was stunning.

“You’re staring,” Haven said, carrying a folded bundle of clothes and tucking them inside Kyana’s satchel.

He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze so that he could watch her from the corner of his eye. Kyana sat on her haunches beside Haven. When Haven absentmindedly reached out to scratch behind Kyana’s ear, Kyana bared her teeth. “See. Wolf, not dog. Sorry, Kyana. Just give her a minute. Her eyes have to adjust.”

Ryker nodded and tried to watch without staring. He couldn’t help but be curious, couldn’t help but wonder if it was painful for her to shift so drastically from one form to another. She wouldn’t appreciate his concern. He pulled a bottle of water from his bag and started for the woods. “I’ll give her a bit of space.”

“She thanks you.”

“You can understand her in this form?”

Haven laughed. “Not even a little, but I speak woman no matter what form they’re in. She’d appreciate the privacy, I’m sure.”

He moved toward the thicket they’d cut their way through earlier. “Ten minutes good?”

Haven nodded.

He felt Kyana’s stare and turned to see her eyeing his tattered bag. Would she dare? Judging by the way she watched him, yeah, she would. He went back into the clearing and slung the bag over his shoulder. “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Haven called out.

“Just in case she decides to express her dislike of me by relieving herself on my belongings.”

Haven’s laughter followed him into the trees.

F
or several hours, Kyana led the way through more overgrown trails. Ryker offered no suggestions this time, knowing she was in her element. This was what made her the best tracer the Order had. The Lychen in her would find it if there was anything to be found.

He could tell by her intermittent pauses and huffs that she would have preferred to do this hunt alone. They were slowing her down, as she could maneuver over and under the branches Ryker and Haven had to either duck or climb. If he hadn’t needed to make sure Haven didn’t fall behind, Ryker could have kept up with no problem, but as it was, he was forced to maintain a human pace.

So far, they hadn’t found a single thing useful in telling them who might have taken the key or where it might be now. Hell, they hadn’t found
anything
since finding Cronos’s bones. Not an animal or a human seemed to exist on this island any longer. The Order had stopped using this as a penal isle centuries ago, but still it made no sense. It wouldn’t matter what realm they were in, animals should have existed here.

Once they caught up to Kyana again, she set off to explore the next area just outside their view. She bounded over a fallen log and skidded to a stop. She turned in a slow circle, taking in her surroundings. Not exactly a clearing, but the grass had been crushed, small trees uprooted, and bones obscured the dirt.

Ryker watched as Kyana nosed the bones closest to her, trying to keep hold of whatever scent had caught her attention.

Haven’s eyes widened as she gripped Ryker’s shoulder. “I am
not
walking in there.”

Moving back to the felled tree, Kyana nipped Haven’s hand. Haven jerked back and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Forget it, Kyana. You either find me a way around or I’ll wait here.”

“I’m going to check and see how far the bones are scattered.” Ryker jumped over the log. “Then I’ll come back to get you.”

He followed Kyana through the mass grave, examining bones as he went. “What is her deal with bones? She said she could hold her own but freaks every time there’s a body of some sort lying around.”

Kyana growled low in her throat.

“Yeah, I know you can’t talk to me, but . . .” He picked up a skull and examined it closely. It looked like a gorilla skull, or the skull of some other really large primate. “You should see if one of the Ancients has a spell that will allow you to talk in Lychen form. It would make things a lot easier. Ever watch Scooby Doo? You kind of remind me of Scrappy.”

This time her growl was much deeper, like she’d take great pleasure in biting him.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” Ryker chuckled. “Looks like we know why there are no animals around.” He held the skull beneath her snout. “It’s been bleached clean, so it’s been months maybe since these were left here. Can you catch a scent of what might have devoured it?”

Kyana hesitated, then sniffed the skull from every angle. When she was done, she huffed and sat down. He took that to mean she’d found nothing. “Was afraid it might be too clean.” He dropped the bone, stood, and brushed his hands on his jeans. “Let’s see how far this goes.”

Together, they moved through the thicket a couple dozen feet. As quickly as it had started, the debris ended. There was something seriously wrong on this island. He couldn’t put his finger on what the danger was, but he only had to look around at the scattered bones to know something lurked in the shadows.

“I’d feel better if we all stuck together. Wait here, I’ll go get Haven.”

Once Ryker lifted Haven into his arms to carry her over the bones, Kyana pushed through a narrow opening in the underbrush and entered another clearing. Ryker and Haven followed, pleased to see this opening was much larger than the one they’d found last night. Structures that looked on the verge of collapse littered the clearing. Kyana lifted her head and inhaled.

Ryker didn’t need any Lychen blood to smell what she’d picked up on. Death. Worse, even, than the foul stench of the River Styx. She released a low howl, bringing Haven and Ryker to her side as she turned in a slow circle, following the gust of wind.

“What is that smell?” Haven cupped her hand over her nose, her eyes locked on Kyana.

Kyana pressed her nose deeper into the soil, apparently inhaling enough dirt to make her shoot off half a dozen doggie sneezes like miniature gunshots.

“Is it coming from under us?” he asked her, not sure how to read her if she bothered to answer.

She growled though, and it sounded to him like an affirmation. When she started digging furiously, he knelt to help her.

Together they dug through inches of grass and gnarled roots beneath. The more they dug, the stronger the scent became. When they hit concrete, Kyana sat down on her haunches and howled in victory.

“We’ve got something,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to beckon Haven closer. He leaned back so the Witch could see the rusted hinge they’d revealed. It was attached to a trap door smack in the center of the clearing. It took Ryker a few attempts to open it, but while the hinges and latch were rusted, there was no squeak when it finally popped open. It had been used frequently and recently. A gush of warm air whooshed out of the deep hole and he staggered backward.

“Dear God. The stink is even worse down there.” Haven cupped her hand over her mouth and nose again. He couldn’t blame her. His own eyes were burning and watering like he’d just been Maced.

It smelled like a thousand freshly mutilated carcasses coated in rotting meat and vegetation.

“That,” Ryker said, a racking cough bending him over his knees, “is the smell of death.”

He’d smelled some foul things in his life, but this topped even the burning pyres set up around St. Augustine to dispose of the bodies that littered the streets. Beside him, Kyana whined. He could only imagine how her acute sense of smell was reacting to such vileness.