Empire of Ash: A Passionate Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 1)

working together, would you at least tell me your name, or I may have to take to calling you ‘Crazy Guy.’” I don’t add, “… like I’ve been.”
Crazy Guy locks gazes with me, frowning.
I put on my sweetest smile in response. With all the baklava I’ve consumed, I nearly make myself sick.
“It’s Harpoc.”
Score one, Pell. I can practically hear my inner minion whistling and clapping wildly.
“Harpoc.” I run it around my mouth, then nod. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I add.
His eyes narrow. “I’m a very private being. It hurt tremendously.” But a corner of his mouth hitches, and I know he’s joking.
I crack up. I’ve only asked his name a million times. Apparently it took a million and one. Duly noted, persistence pays with this one. Right up my alley, little does he know, oh yes, little does he know. Well, that and calling him something he doesn’t appreciate.
I chuckle to myself. I’m learning your ways, oh secretive one. Mwhahaha.
His easy smile is back, like he can read my thoughts and I’m cracking him up.
“You’ve made the right decision, to help,” he says. “But no need to book flights, I’ll get us there.”
“Um… how?” Why does it feel like I’ve just told the devil I’ll go with him?
He chuckles. “You’ll see.”

Chapter Ten
“Ready to go stop a sphinx?” Harpoc asks as he opens the café’s door for me.
He stuffs the bottle of Atitamos’s Mediterranean Seasoning in his breast pocket as we step back outside into a downpour, but thankfully his anti-ugly-weather bubble shields us in an instant.
“You mean right… right this minute?” No way in hell am I ready.
“No time like the present. While we’ve been getting acquainted, that sphinx is probably almost to San El-Hagar.”
“And you think we’ll somehow catch it before it wreaks havoc? That’s hours from here.”
A corner of his mouth rises. “I think we might make it in the nick of time if we hurry.”
I give him a long look. This guy’s different, I remind myself. Different, yes, but he can’t bend time, can he?
He holds out an open palm.
I look between it and his face a time or two before slowly taking it.
My heart launches into an all-out sprint as he draws me close and closer until he turns me around and tucks me under an arm.
“Put your arm around my waist,” he says, giving a playful, fox-like grin.
I swallow hard. What am I getting myself into?
I ease an arm around the back of his duster, the scent of citrus with a hint of cloves filling my nose. Mmm. I can’t help but notice how deliciously firm his middle is as I tighten my hold around his lean muscles.
He winks. “Like the feel?”
My eyes go huge and I recoil, almost, because he holds my hand firm, leaving no escape from utter embarrassment as my cheeks burn.
Just shoot me.
He snickers, then draws me closer still with a strong arm. “Hold tight.”
I shriek as I become weightless and completely disoriented in an instant; an overwhelming feeling of being rudderless in a void of darkness crashes over me. I squeeze his middle making my arms hurt—I hope I don’t break one of his ribs—but there’s no way I’ll ease up.
My ears and nose ache with the freezing chill that fills wherever we are. Only Harpoc’s warmth mitigates some small part of it. Small mercy, his firm arm around my waist reassures, telling me he won’t let me fall.
My stomach isn’t happy with me after six pieces of baklava—don’t give me that, it’s baklava—but its gurgling has shifted into overdrive the longer this chaos reigns, and it’s only getting worse. Oh gods, I really don’t want to barf all over Harpoc, I’d rather die.
Focus on his sexy scent, Pell, I tell myself.
Perhaps I can divert my attention until my world returns to normal.
What am I talking about? If I didn’t feel like hurling, the thought would make me laugh. My world will never return to normal in Harpoc’s arms.
He squeezes my waist, and I feel his warm breath on my ear as he says, “We’re here.”
A chill races up my back, and a second later, we slow dramatically and I suck in a breath as a nighttime landscape comes into view. Swallowing hard, I attempt to breathe deeply, trying to settle my stomach while streetlights and lights from tiny homes below twinkle as we soar over.
We’re flying! First dark chaos, now this!? My death grip around Harpoc’s middle tightens, if that’s even possible.
The skies have cleared from the stormy ones we left in Mycenae, and the nearly full moon ahead lends additional light to reveal clouds as well as movement just to my right.
I look over in time to see a large, black… what is that? I squint only a second. Feathers, lots and lots of black feathers, covering a very large wing.
A quick check to my left confirms Harpoc has another wing and tingling erupts in my toes that isn’t from the cold.
Wings? Harpoc has wings? My chest tightens. What other secrets does he possess? Who is he? What is he?
But more, we’re gliding through the air with nothing but our arms keeping me aloft. I only barely suppress a shriek. I can’t stop my body from wriggling.
“I’ve got you,” he says in his calming baritone. “I’m not going to let you fall.”
It doesn’t matter. I squirm all the more.
“Look there,” he says, nodding toward a barren stretch that starts just past the edge of the glowing city lights.
The moon isn’t quite bright enough to make out exactly what I’m seeing at this distance, but it looks like a field of huge broken and weathered stones lying near each other at odd angles.