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Dressed entirely in black, Idris appeared as emotionless as a statue despite what lay beneath the surface. Dried blood tinged his fingertips.

“Where is Dante?”

“He is otherwise occupied.” Idris smiled, the light not quite reaching his eyes. This time, there was no hint of warmth. Instead, only a cold, dead gaze that bore into her. Soulless, if one believed in such things. It was like she was the ant under the magnifying glass, ready to be annihilated.

Dante must be alive. Idris would not have hesitated to let her know of his demise. “How?”

“There are hundreds of tunnels that lead to the catacombs, but I could never gain entry until now. Not until you,” Idris said. A half-deprecating smile touched the edges of his lips. “Until a hybrid with no alliances to any of the Houses appeared. But then, descendants of Vandana are hard to find, but not impossible to kill.”

Rieka flinched. “What do you want?” She shifted closer to the statue. The damn blaster was too far away. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid. The light weight of the knife on her hip was a slight blessing, but she would need to be a lot closer to use it.

“You.”

Rieka stopped. Idris was making zero sense. “I’m not available.”

“Do you know what the bracelet is?”

Rieka didn’t care, but if it kept Idris talking, it may give her enough time to come up with a distraction. Or a plan.

Her knees buckled. She stumbled backward, hitting the coffin with a thud and a crunch. But she barely noticed the impact. Since Idris had appeared, the sharp pulses from the bracelet had grown exponentially—the tempo increasing until it seemed they merged into one agonizingly long pulse. Her body was burning from the inside. The pendant was glowing, but Idris took no notice of it.

Idris tilted his head as he took a step closer to her. His bulky form overshadowed Vandana. “It links you to the O’hurani. As long as you wear it, you belong to him.”

Rieka blinked at him. Idris had clearly become disillusioned.

“The old matriarch did not inform you?” Idris sneered. “History has been rewritten because of the whore Vandana.”

It was just the in Rieka had been looking for. Keep Idris talking. Dante would come looking for her. “What history?”

“You bear the bloodline of the whore and the true gods. An abomination that should not exist,” Idris spat out. His eyes widened in delirium. “They gifted Vandana to the O’hurani as a tribute. A symbol of Atlantean loyalty to our gods. Instead, in her hubris, she waged a war she could not win, and the waves swallowed Atlantis.”

Rieka swallowed. The seconds were ticking by. Where was Dante? Had Idris gotten to him first? “What do you need me for? Vandana destroyed the Anki, and the wayfarers still sleep.”

Idris’s face contorted into a monstrous grin. “Vandana was too weak to kill the inner circle. The king did not die but rather still sleeps until he is ready to be awoken. You will help find him and wake him up.” Idris chuckled. “Dante will not come, Chaucer is with him.”

Rieka stilled, her heart racing as she tried to school her features.

Idris moved closer to her, almost boxing her in, his large body looming over her. No hint left of the Atlantean she had met. Idris chuckled again, the sound sending chills down her spine. “It looks as though my dear friend Dante has been keeping secrets from you. He knows exactly who you are. Do you think he would have wasted his time with a mere hybrid? Dante manipulated you and seduced you. He will do anything to find the tomb.”

“How do you know he succeeded?”

Idris smirked, his pale eyes luminous in the darkness. “Little hybrid, you wear your emotions for all the world to see and use against you. Did you forget in Dante’s world, emotions are a commodity to be utilized for as long as they are useful?”

Rieka wanted to curl into a small ball. The exact words Dante had used to describe their differences. He had told her outright, and she had ignored the warning.

Idris moved behind her a second before his breath tickled her neck, sending goose bumps all over her body.

She steeled her shoulders, refusing to back down.

“He will choose the tomb over you.”

That wasn’t true, she wanted to yell. But it was. Always second place. “No.”

“Your eyes give you away. Only a handful of Atlanteans knew Vandana’s eyes burned like flames. It was a secret passed down to the select few. Talal shared it with Dante. Dante will discard you once he finds what he is looking for.”

Your eyes are the only physical sign of your Atlantean heritage. Unusual, even by our standards.

The memory of their first meeting slammed into Rieka. She was finding it harder to breathe. Had everything been a lie?