Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply (25 page)

“No, dear. I think the poor girl is trying to wake up.” I felt a poke on my shoulder. “Are you alive?”

My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at two really gorgeous people. They looked rather worried.

“We learned your language through imprinting with your memories,” said the beautiful woman. “And we learned about the world as it exists now. I would like a car. I think it would be far more fun than a chariot.”

“You drove chariots very well.”

“Thank you.” She leaned over me, her curtain of silky hair falling across my face, and kissed the man.

Shamhat. Amahté.

Holy shit. I was alive.

“Did I drink the ambrosia?” I asked. Panic consumed me. Dove needed it. And I was alive, and I really shouldn’t be.

“Why on earth would you need ambrosia?” asked Shamhat. “You’re a . . .” She frowned, looked at Amahté, offered a word I didn’t recognize.

He looked at me, smiling. “Unicorn.”

I laughed. It came out more like a rusted croak, but I couldn’t stop. “Unicorns aren’t real.” But they were, weren’t they? What a silly statement to make. I sat up, and I honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Where’s Drake?”

“What’s a Drake?” asked Shamhat. “Is it a car?”

“No, he’s a werewolf. He was in the other room.”

“Oh,” said Amahté. “That explains all the howling and banging.” He lifted a hand, and the wall disappeared.

A very pissed-off Drake, who apparently had forgotten to get dressed, marched into the space looking as though he might kill something with his bare hands. “Moira!”

“You’re naked,” I pointed out.

“See? That’s why I like werewolves so much.” Shamhat sent a sly glance to Amahté, but he only gave her an affectionate look and then tweaked her nose. She giggled.

I hadn’t expected an Ancient vampire to giggle.

“I think her mate would like to see her,” said Amahté. They moved aside, and Drake, still very much naked, dropped to his knees and scooped me into his arms.

“Are you all right?” he growled. (No, really. He did.)

“I’m alive.” I know I was echoing this sentiment a lot, but . . . hey,
alive
, all right?

He crushed me into his embrace and kissed the ever-living hell out of me. Oh, my God. Being alive was so, so awesome.

“Never sacrifice yourself again,” he demanded. “Do you understand me?”

Then he kissed me again.

“I didn’t know werewolves could mate with unicorns,” said Shamhat. “The world truly is a different place.”

Drake turned an incredulous gaze to the woman, who offered him a radiant smile, and then he frowned down at me. “Unicorns are extinct.”

“Extinct? As in, they really lived?” I asked. But I knew, didn’t I? It was why my mother had died. To protect me. And protecting me was protecting our secret, too. My heritage.

“Only a unicorn could open the pyramid and survive it,” said Shamhat. “So, no, unicorns are not extinct.”

Drake stared at me.

“Why are unicorns extinct-ish?” I asked.

“Unicorn blood and horns were coveted by humans and paranormals alike. The horns were used to make weapons and other objects because of their mystical properties. And a unicorn’s blood can heal anyone of anything.” A gruesome kind of worry entered his gaze. Uh-oh. That wasn’t good.

“And unicorn horn can kill anything,” said Shamhat. “Even an immortal. And that’s also the only way to kill a unicorn.”

My mind flashed to the memory that was embedded in my soul like a poisoned thorn. The white blade with the beaten copper hilt. Unicorn horn. The only way to kill my mother . . . and the only way to kill me?

“Moira?”

“Still alive,” I said. “And not crazy. Well, not crazier. I think.” I glanced down and got a gander at his penis. “I really think you should get dressed.” Shamhat was ogling his backside, and while Amahté thought that was all cute and shit, I did not.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We should get back to Broken Heart.”

I realized then that he hadn’t been around for Patsy’s visitation. I explained the situation as quickly as I could, and Drake was up and out of the chamber even before the last word echoed off the walls. He returned less than a minute later fully dressed. Well, he hadn’t donned the shirt. Wow, that man had some abs. He eyed the Ancients. “How do we get out of here?”

“Wait,” I said. “Where’s the ambrosia?”

Shamhat and Amahté looked at each other. After a moment, Amahté nodded. “It is in another location,” he offered. “We’ll tell you how to get it. It will be your reward, Moira.”

I stared at them. “Wait a sec. No ambrosia?”

The vampiric couple actually looked abashed.

“Ruadan and I created this place from magic—with the help of one of your unicorn ancestors,” said Amahté. He took his wife’s hand and drew her into his embrace. “We had not intended to stay asleep for so long.”

“You’ve been lost to us,” said Drake. “The vampires have been searching for you for a while.”

Amahté nodded. “The only way to awaken us was through the blood of one such as Moira. It was necessary to create those protections with that magic so that no one else could enter.”

“So only unicorn blood would’ve worked,” I said. “That’s why my grandfather was hunting for your temple. Because he was the one who was supposed to open it.”

“Unicorns are female,” said Shamhat. “Your blood must be from your grandmother’s side.”

I wasn’t buying that I was a unicorn. Come on! I’d accepted so much about this world already, but I couldn’t wrap my brain around the idea that I was like that innocent, tragic figure from
The Last Unicorn
. No, I wasn’t that girl who tried to find her destiny, only to find love . . . and to know eternal regret.

“So what was the deal with the sex magic, then?” I asked.

“That’s why only two could enter the pyramid,” said Amahté. “Sex magic is very, very strong. And it was that essence, along with your blood, that we needed to revive.”

“And what was the deal with the scorpion?” I asked.

“The scorpion was meant to protect us if something went wrong in the final chamber.” Amahté offered an apologetic smile. “Oops.”

“Oops?” I said. “Really?”

“We need to go,” said Drake. “We do not know if Broken Heart has fallen to Karn.”

“What’s a Karn?” asked Shamhat.

“He’s an asshole,” I said. “A big one.”

“Sounds unpleasant,” she said, wrinkling her pert nose.

That was the understatement of the century. Drake helped me to my feet, and we looked at the Ancients.

“Do we walk?” asked Drake.

“Let us use alternative transportation,” said Amahté. He swept me into his arms, and Shamhat did the same to Drake.

“I’d rather walk,” I said. “No. Really. Don’t—”

Once again I found myself imploding—like a window shattered by a brick.

Fucking vampires.

•   •   •

We arrived outside the pyramid, and I was so dizzy I had to hold on to Amahté for a full minute until the world stopped spinning.

“I hate that,” I said as I stumbled out of Amahté’s arms. “Thanks.”

“You are welcome. I think.”

“Traveling that way is wonderful fun,” enthused Shamhat. “You can go anywhere in the blink of an eye!”

Drake studied me, frowning. “Are you all right? You look a little green.”

“Well, I’m still breathing, so I can’t complain.”

He nodded. He was all business, his expression serious and his body tense. Warrior vibes rolled off him.

Behind him, the pyramid gleamed white against the night sky. And then it slowly faded, like a memory, like a dream. It was as if it had never existed, and part of me regretted its disappearance.

“Can we get Dove now?” I asked.

“Drake!”

Across the field, several people hurried toward us. Gabriel and Ren I recognized right away, and then I realized I recognized some of others as well. There were Jessica and Patrick from my desert memories. There was also a blond man who carried himself like military. And then there was Larsa. She looked exactly the same as she had in my vision.

“Mother!” Larsa broke free of the group.

“Larsa!” Shamhat enveloped her daughter in her embrace, and they shared a sweet moment of reconnection.

“It’s so nice to see you,” said Larsa, pulling away, seemingly caught between embarrassment about this show of affection and happiness that she was no longer orphaned. I had a moment of envy. What would it be like if my mother suddenly showed up after so long? Regret was a terrible ache in my chest.

“It is good that you lived,” said Shamhat. Then she pulled her daughter in for another hug and made a sobbing sound, even though no tears fell. One of Theodora Monroe’s factoids came to mind—vampires couldn’t cry.

Drake had joined the others, and they were having an animated discussion. While Shamhat and Larsa continued their reunion, Amahté and I walked to the group.

Everyone quieted all at once, and their gazes slid away from me.

“What?” I asked. My heart started to pound, and foreboding dropped like a cold, wet stone into my stomach.

“We managed to rout them,” said Gabriel. “We killed all but three.”

“Karn got away again, didn’t he?” I asked.

“Him and two others,” confirmed the blond man. He offered me a grim smile. “I’m Braddock Hayes. I head up security for Broken Heart.”

I nodded toward him, and waited for the bomb to drop.

“They have my wife,” said Gabriel. “And Dove.”

“Did Patsy visit you, too?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “I’m sorry. Your friend is . . .” The look of empathy on his face made my stomach roil.

“She’s really bad off,” offered Jessica. “But still breathing.” She sent Gabriel a testy look. “Don’t be a Negative Nelly, Gabe.”

“Don’t call me Gabe,” he muttered.

“What’s the negotiating point?” I asked.

“The ambrosia,” said Gabriel. “Do you have it?”

I had a feeling that if I had the ambrosia in my possession, he would’ve taken it and popped off to wherever to get his wife. I understood his anxiety. His pregnant mate was chained up and at the mercy of a vampire who had no soul and no conscience. But Patsy was a paranormal being. She was strong. She would survive.

Dove would not.

“The ambrosia is elsewhere,” said Amahté. “We have released our claim on it and gifted it to Moira. Now she’s the only one who can retrieve it.”

“Your claim?” I asked.

“Ambrosia can only be gifted by the gods—but the people who receive the precious substance can also give it another,” said Amahté. He looked apologetic. “The ambrosia was a backup for our revival. In case the unicorn blood was not enough.”

Well, apparently the unicorn blood was plenty. I waved my hand, dismissing all guilt associated with the current situation. “So . . . retrieve?” I asked. I was terrified for Dove. She was dying. And these people . . . these non-people didn’t care . . . And now I had to go on another scavenger hunt for the ambrosia? Hadn’t I earned it already? “Can’t you just use your almighty vampire powers to get it?”

“No,” said Amahté. “You must be the one to get it, Moira. Claiming it yourself is the only way for you to use its powers.”

“Where is it?” I asked. Anger coiled around me like pythons, squeezing the patience right out of me.

Drake reached over and clapped my shoulder. I don’t know if he meant to calm or to comfort, but I wasn’t in the mood to be coddled, damn it. I shrugged off his hand. “Amahté?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked softly. “Your hatred of Karn may well impede your journey. You must be stronger than your anger and your fear, or you will fail.”

“Stop bullshitting,” I snapped. “Where. Is. It?”

“Ambrosia can only be found in one place.” Amahté searched my face, and then he sighed. “The Underworld.”

“Y
ou mean hell?” I asked. I’d been to a lot of dangerous places, which is why I wasn’t scared to fight or to use a gun. I’d excavated sites where I’d had to pay drug lords for protection and make deals with rebels to dig in their part of the jungle. It was part and parcel of what I loved to do, and I’d gotten used to it. But the Underworld? How was I supposed to prepare for that?

“Not hell,” offered Amahté. “That’s a lower realm. Planes of existence are in layers. The Underworld is . . . er, on top of hell, if you wanted to think of it like that. It’s more a gateway location to the other realms.”

“It’s not the World-Between-Worlds, is it?” asked Jessica.

Amahté shook his head. “That is a place that cannot be accessed easily. It exists everywhere . . . and nowhere.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jessica shrugged, and then offered me a tight smile. “The Underworld is probably the same as going to Florida. It’ll be hot and muggy and filled with old people.”

I had to crack a smile at that. You know, I think me and Jessica could be friends. If I survived the Underworld, procured the food of the gods, and managed to save Dove.

“Where am I supposed to go in the Underworld?” I asked. “How long will it take? And what do I have to do to get the ambrosia?”

“When I open the gateway, you’ll find the path, which will lead you to the ambrosia.” He pressed a thumb against my forehead, and I felt a surge of tingling heat. “This gives you a pass, if you will, into the Underworld. Don’t leave the path! It’s your safety. Once you claim the ambrosia, follow the path back to the entrance. I will know when you’ve returned, and I’ll open the doorway again.”