Page 12 of Violet Legacy

Chapter 9

Riekahadmadeadeal with the Devil. There was no denying it now.

A night spent oscillating between dreaming of a deceased queen and cold emerald eyes hadn’t helped her.

She clung to the straps of her backpack as she surveyed the plane, the heavy weight of the bag comforting. Despite flying all the time, the knots in her stomach never stopped. She couldn’t quell the feeling of walls rushing toward her, closing her in—the sound of screeching metal bending unnaturally. It had been fifteen years since the accident, but if she closed her eyes, it still felt like yesterday.

Rieka had been one of the lucky ones. Her mom had not.

“This way, Dr. Sinha.”

Her heart jumped at the intrusion; she didn’t know the voice, but he obviously knew her. She turned, expecting another guard, but surprise washed over her as recognition flooded through her. It was hard not to recognize him; his face was in the gossip magazines at least monthly.

“Dante informed us you would join us. Sypha is with the pilot and asked me to meet you. Talik Njoror,” said Talik as he held out his hand. “Welcome aboard.”

Talik reminded her of a highly stylized, dark-haired Viking, and at six feet and three inches, she had to look up to him to meet his gaze. Dressed in a black three-piece suit, Talik looked more like he was going to a ball than being one of Dante’s security guards. The light highlighted the red and golden streaks through his black hair. His messy bun was an artful casual style. Rieka had never been jealous of anyone else’s hair before, but she might just be now. Handsome as sin, she could understand why he had earned the playboy moniker. There were plenty of photos of him out with beautiful human and Atlantean women, and the occasional male, on his arm, but never the same one twice in a row.

Rieka returned the handshake as she tried not to focus on the door closing.

“Don’t believe everything you have read,” Talik said with an exaggerated wink, his obsidian-colored eyes flashing mischievously. “I will be with Sypha if you require anything.”

Talik disappeared, leaving her alone. She surveyed the extravagant private jet, and she had to give it to Delacroix. He had a specific style, and it was reflected in the minimalistic monochrome décor. No expense had been spared. Perks of being an Atlantean billionaire.

She walked toward the seats hesitantly, touching the soft leather. The jet was bigger than her apartment.

A flash of white appeared to her left as Sypha stepped out of the cockpit. The Atlantean looked downright angelic—the only splash of color was their hair and pink talons.

“When do we leave?” Rieka asked, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal. They weren’t in the air yet. All she had to do was find a seat and focus on work. Thank god for modern technologies. She didn’t think she could handle the traditional eight-hour flight. Only five hours to go until they landed. And she would be back on the ground in no time. Breaking down the elements of the flight put her at ease for seventy percent of the time she was flying. The rest was normally up to the drink menu.

“Once you have chosen a seat,” Dante said.

His voice went straight through her. The butterflies differed from the dull echo of anxiety coursing through her. The light lilt of an accent was far sexier than it should have been. Rieka turned to face him. He was larger than she remembered and took up more room than he should have, but it wasn’t just his size; it was also his sheer presence. Dante looked like he had just walked off another photo shoot, his gray suit jacket hung over his arm. The white shirt set off his dark Mediterranean complexion. Rieka dragged her gaze away from him. She was going to work on not being distracted around Dante, but that was a future-Rieka problem. Right now, she could use all the distractions she could get, or there was an enormous risk that the memories would swallow her up.

“While we are in Egypt, if you need anything, and I am unavailable, Talik and Sypha will help you.”

She hadn’t realized when she said yes that she would work closely with Dante. Didn’t billionaire Atlanteans have better things to do? Staging bloodless coups or working on their empire building? Not babysitting an unemployed archaeologist. “I assumed you would be working. And…” What did Dante do daily? Count his money?

“I am more interested in the House Atlas artifacts than in endless meetings,” Dante said.

Rieka moved to the closest seat. Her fingers brushed the soft white leather. The touch grounded her into reality. She dropped her backpack next to the seat, sliding into the oversized chair. Dante hadn’t moved, but she could sense his gaze following her. Even the pressure of her bobby pins was annoying her.

It’s just takeoff. Nothing to worry about.Liar.

No matter how often she flew, it never got easier. The nausea was just below the surface, the memory of the taste of jet fuel never far away. She hugged her bag. There was no use pretending to look happy. With the Atlantean heightened senses, it wouldn’t be difficult to identify the smell of fear and anxiety rolling off her. Dante and any other Atlantean within six feet would know that it was just a façade. Instead, she did something she was good at and ignored the rest of the world.

Dantelookedovertowhere Rieka sat. His attention had been on the hybrid far more than he would voluntarily admit. He could not deny that it was more than solely because she could help him find Vandana’s tomb. He was attending the Jimourt in an unofficial capacity, a mere invited guest. It would allow him to only attend meetings he was interested in and, more importantly, focus on what was in the vault. And Rieka. Five hundred years was a long time to wait for another opportunity, even with their life span. Sypha’s vision hadn’t quite left him. Whoever Rieka really was, he needed her more than she knew.

Rieka’s knuckles were white as she held onto the armrest and sat ramrod straight. It was the posture of someone who was petrified of flying. A small part of him stirred at the image, but he pushed it down. Instead, he glanced at the backpack. It looked like it was bursting at the seams, but it was all she had brought with her. A well-worn notebook lay in a prime position, sandwiched between neatly rolled clothes. It must be something valuable.

“Why are you interested in the statue?” Rieka asked as she loosened her grip on the seat. “Or finding Vandana’s tomb?”

There was no sign of Talik or Sypha; both had made themselves scarce. Rieka’s flame-colored eyes sparked with curiosity. The haunted look she had been wearing had disappeared, for now. She had relaxed as soon as they had straightened up. The waves of fear must only be associated with takeoff, but he didn’t need his heightened senses to understand what Rieka was feeling. It was all in her eyes. “Locating the tomb will be the greatest discovery in Atlantean history.”

Rieka frowned, as if she wasn’t quite happy with his response. “Haven’t you already built enough of a legacy? Being richer than a combination of Croesus and Midas is not the end goal for you?”

Dante smirked at the brutal honesty of the question. The answer was one he gave little thought to, not after all these years. “Money allows me to fund my interests.”

“And the tomb is on the list?” Rieka said as she kicked her long legs out, the hot pink laces of her boots a stark contrast to her practical dark attire. “Doesn’t sound like the life ambition of a billionaire.”

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