Page 16 of Violet Legacy

Dante grimaced; the beating hot sun added to his annoyance. He loathed deserts. “Kade will track it.”

And destroy it. Only select Atlanteans were aware of the existence of the monsters, and he was determined to keep it that way. Mass hysteria was only useful when he could shape it to his advantage.

“I’m going to greet the welcoming committee. If I get stabbed, I’m blaming you.” Talik walked toward the center of the temporary landing strip. The scent of amber and rosewood reached him before he heard the creak of the stairs.

“This is not the welcome I was expecting.” Rieka tugged the black trucker cap over her eyes. She moved close enough to brush against him. “We are in the middle of nowhere.”

Dante no longer tried to ignore the tendril of attraction surrounding Rieka. He didn’t think she was aware of it. A fire burned within Rieka just beneath the surface. It was only a small whisper of a kindling, but it had the potential to become a wildfire.

Rieka wore only a dark sleeveless T-shirt, having discarded her jacket at some point. The colors of her tattoos were a bright contrast to the muted color of her wardrobe. Large pink, red, and purple lilies covered her entire left arm. He fought the sudden urge to trace his fingers along the tattooed lines and see if Rieka’s skin was as soft and inviting as it looked. “What were you expecting?”

Rieka shrugged as a thin film of perspiration coated her. The black V-neck tee clung to her. “I don’t know. Guards. Dancing troupes. Something over the top. The House isn’t exactly renowned for its subtle gestures.”

Dante bit back a smile. Rieka was right. House Azaes’s reputation for extravagant events was well known. A tradition Anhur followed, despite his quieter nature. “Cleopatra’s entrance into Rome?”

“The Elizabeth Taylor version,” Rieka clarified with an exaggerated hand wave. “Didn’t take you as someone who watched human movies.”

“As Talik mentioned, not everything in the media is true.”

“Especially when you leak your own information,” Rieka added. She stepped closer to Dante and smiled. Small laugh lines appeared around her eyes.

A hint of vulnerability crossed her features, as if she was about to confess a deep, dark secret. She glanced back at the plane as a small shiver rocked her body. “It’s been fifteen years, and I can still smell the fuel and burning hair. If I close my eyes, I’m back on the flight.” Rieka sighed, her gaze glassy. “It was the first time I was glad I hadn’t inherited the Atlantean heightened senses. I was lucky. My mom wasn’t.” Rieka’s voice trailed off, but it couldn’t hide the tangible pain of the memories.

“Rieka…”

“Don’t you just love deserts?” Rieka switched topics. “The endless beauty and the possibility of finding a tomb anywhere—it’s breathtaking.”

It was a desolate wasteland. But he did not want to break the illusion of the desert for Rieka. Once it was broken, it was near impossible to get it back. It was one of the few things he envied about humans. They rarely lived long enough to forget the luster of life. Instead, he let Rieka’s exuberance, with a bittersweet hint of melancholy, wrap around him. The sensation was both unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

The ground shook as the sound of fighter jets drowned the rest of the world out. In the distance, dust particles exploded, showering the sand dunes.

Their escorts.

Dante had spent decades learning to move within the region—how to use the light and shadow to hide in plain sight and ambush the enemy. The same techniques the escorts were using. The fighter jets were an ostentatious show of power and resources. He glanced at Rieka. She looked enthralled.

“Stay close by.”

Rieka stiffened at the order. She glared at him, the red of her eyes the only visible color, the hint of vulnerability gone. It had been a very long time since someone had tried to stare him down into submission.

“I thought you were invited to the Jimourt?”

“I am,” Dante said. “While the House is aware of your attendance, I prefer you not to become a weakness that can be exploited.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be allies?” Rieka shifted as she fanned herself, her gaze never leaving the rising dust cloud.

“They will exploit any weakness, as I would,” Dante admitted. The Jimourt may be neutral, but it didn’t stop the Houses and their spymasters from gathering information about each other. He had planted enough spies over the years to know they had done the same to him.

“Is that more an indictment of your behavior than theirs?”

“Alliances are not permanent; they shift like the dunes surrounding us,” Dante said. He stood inches away from Rieka, careful not to touch her, but even this close he could feel her body warmth radiating from her. The jets had been a distraction. It allowed the vehicles to gain momentum and move without worrying about the slight echo of their engines. Any sound that was not natural was a glaring beacon in the desert’s stillness. He pointed to their front. “Look to the east.”

Rieka shook her head. “What am I looking for??”

“The House places their scouts on overwatch. They have been waiting hidden by the dunes since we entered their airspace.” It was protocol. Until the escorts confirmed their identity as invited guests, they would be treated as potential hostile contacts. “What can you see?”

“Sand. And more sand. I did not win the Atlantean lottery in genetics,” Rieka said with resignation. “Despite the eye color, I am human.”

“Close your eyes.”

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