Page 20 of Violet Legacy

Rory:Are you still alive?

Rieka snorted as she texted back:And if I’m not?

Rory:I am now the owner of your entire romance book collection.

She laughed out loud. Rory was more than welcome to the sizable library of paperback novels she’d amassed over the last decade. There was something about happily ever after Rieka had never quite outgrown nor wanted to. Even if reality was nowhere close to it.

Rieka:Did you know Delacroix was related to the House Azaes?

Three dots appeared instantly. Rory must be bored.

Rory:The elite are all related to each other. It’s incestuous. Aren’t you an expert in their history?

Rieka could hear Rory’s long-suffering sigh and the associated dramatic eye roll. Rory only ever remembered her Italian heritage when it suited her.

Rieka:Ancient Atlantean history. If it’s less than eight thousand years old, it’s too recent for me.

Rory:Semantics. Do me a favor. Stay out of tunnels. I will call in a couple of days.

Tunnels? It must have something to do with the investigation she was working on. Rory would explain it when she was ready. Rieka put away the cell. Despite the distance between them, there was a level of comfort knowing that someone knew she was still alive. And where she was.

She pressed herself against the warm window to see how far down the cliff went. It was at least a hundred feet drop onto sharpened, glass-jagged rocks. Someone had wanted to keep something out of the fortress. Or in. The outer wall was fifty feet away from her, but the deep gouges were hard to miss. They littered the wall and looked like claw marks. Something a big cat would have made.

Rieka sighed. She was done waiting. Instead, she strode toward a large wooden door and quietly turned the silver handle, her eyes half-closed in anticipation. She opened them. The intricate detail of the handle had imprinted in her palm, but nothing happened. It didn’t budge—no matter how hard she turned it. That wouldn’t stop her.

The lock was old school, nothing fancy or tech-based. A small win, and one that she could take advantage of. She pulled two bobby pins from her hair. It had been years since she had used this particular skill set. It took a few tries, but muscle memory took over.

Click.

Rieka smiled. She hadn’t lost her touch. She tugged at the straps on her shoulder, then she casually strolled out without a backward glance. Waiting in a locked room by herself was not her idea of fun. At least Dante had feigned a protest when Khalida escorted her into the chamber, clearly a power play more than anything else. Not that it made any difference. Nor had he chosen to wait with her. Annoying Atlanteans. So much for being Dante’s guest.

The corridor was darker than the hall, smaller, and if she reached out and spread her arms, she could touch both sides. The little light penetrating the hallway was seeping through small stained-glass windows that edged the top of the ten-foot wall. There was scarcely enough light for her to make out the detailed inscriptions on the wall.

She glanced around. Left or right?

A subtle cough echoed, breaking the silence. Her shoulders slumped as she turned toward the sound. A tall figure carelessly leaned against the wall at the end of the corridor. Talik.

“You need to wait until they clear you to have access to the palace,” Talik said as he walked over to her.

“I waited,” Rieka muttered. Credit to the Atlanteans, they could all rock tailored suits. “Plus, you were about to give me access.”

Talik raised a perfect black eyebrow. His obsidian eyes gave nothing away. He looked hot as fuck in his three-piece suit. And she could appreciate his masculine beauty, but there was no electrical charge or butterflies when she was with Talik. Unlike when she was around Dante. Rieka didn’t need to remind herself of the stupidity of being attracted to him—she shoved it down. Nothing would come of it.

“Fifteen minutes?” Talik asked. Amusement tinged his voice. “This way.”

It hadn’t felt like fifteen minutes, more like an eternity. Maybe she was being dramatic…but she only had four days. And every second counted.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Rieka said as she caught up with Talik, matching his stride.

“Think of me as your personal guide,” Talik suggested, his voice deadpan as he suddenly stopped. “And our first stop is here.”

She turned around. There was no door. It reminded her of everything else she had walked through so far within the Arx: faintly underwhelming, despite its impressive history.

Talik opened the black box to reveal a control panel. His fingers flew over the panel as he slipped his sunglasses on. “Code is 584597. It is coded to you, and it will open all the security doors.”

The door slid open. Bright light smashed into her and temporarily blinded her. “A warning would have been nice.”

A wave of emotions descended over her—anger, hostility, and lust interwoven with each other until she couldn’t tell them apart. She staggered before she caught her bearings.

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