Immortal Alliance (IMMORTAL ALLIANCE SERIES Book 1)

by A. Catherine

  “So actually, you want me to be nice to Heather so that we can someday use her for our own gain?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “There are other reasons. But that is the big one, yes. But more importantly, you need to stop believing the things she said or implied.”

  “Why? Nothing she said was wrong.”

  My best friend sighed, and then grabbed my hand and held it to her chest the same way I did with her the other night.

  “You are nothing like that. I would know.”

  Her words only reminding me of all we had been through together. Every hurdle and obstacle we faced in our many centuries in the pit. Who I was before I met Seere, and how much she brought me out of the raging fire from which I was created.

  “Promise you’ll at least try to let them in.”

  After a moment of staring into her black eyes, I nodded.

  “I’ll consider it.”

  She looked down at the now pile of ashes of the fallen Fafnir.

  “Besides, you need more friends. You’re getting needy,” she teased, elbowing my ribs.

  I chuckled. “Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into with me.”

  She shook her head, clearly amused. “Unfortunately.”

  We both chuckled. She reached for my hand to return back to the warehouse when someone else’s winnow signature appeared in front of us. A silvery light with popping sparks, which could only mean one person.

  Fan-fucking-tastic. Seere groaned down the connection.

  “I see you two had fun,” Sytry said, smirking widely as he looked around at the leftovers from our destruction.

  I tensed, Seere did as well next to me. But I quickly schooled the cold, unfeeling mask onto my face before Sytry locked his gaze back onto the two of us.

  The light-skinned Fallen angel had black hair, black eyes, and wore a turtleneck underneath a suit jacket. Sytry was part of Lucifer’s inner circle. His demon offspring were the slave demons. Masters of the mind that could entrap a mortal soul with their own unique way, and in doing so would enslave the mortal for eternal servitude.

  The mortal’s minds would be twisted and warped until they became husks of who they once were, zombies willing to serve their masochistic masters.

  Their very purpose went against everything I believed in. Giving no choice to the mortals before committing them to their fate. Finding pleasure in torturing their bodies and souls for all eternity.

  I took a steady breath, blocking out the haunting images that threatened to penetrate the carefully constructed wall in my psyche. I could feel Seere sending me what comfort she could down the connection.

  Sytry was a menace, one I would happily get rid of when I have the authority.

  “What brings you to the surface, Sytry?” I asked calmly, coldly.

  He tapped his foot against the ground. “Lucifer sent me. We haven’t received any updates since you last visited.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person, that’s Lillith’s job. Take it up with her.”

  Sytry gave me a knowing smile. “It seems that she is not collecting enough information to be of interest. Her reports are thin. Care to share what news you have of the relics?” he asked.

  Of course, Lucifer would share that information with his circle. Especially the ones who were most loyal. No doubt he had them searching for the relics as well.

  It was quickly becoming a race to find them, and whether it be Lucifer’s goons, the alliance, or our Guardian killer to find them first—we could only hope fate was in our favor.

  “When there is news worth sharing, Lucifer will be the first to know.” The lie flowed effortlessly from my lips. Then again, I didn’t care if he believed me.

  Seere had freed a throwing knife into her palm, but kept it hidden from his view. Always ready just in-case we needed to battle our way out. Not that Sytry would last against my fire if he tried, but Seere may not be that lucky.

  “How are you Seere?” Sytry asked her all too charmingly.

  She squared her shoulders. “Just cheeky, Sytry.”

  “Not going to ask me how I am?”

  His hand rested arrogantly in his pocket, perfectly at ease. But he was unknowingly lessening his presence trying to mimic Lucifer.

  “I don’t care how you are,” Seere said, completely uninterested.

  She’d come a long way since her first few decades as my second—when she was more timid and had a hard time hiding her insecurities around the Fallen.

  “We heard about your recent challenge. Losing to a lower-class angel is rather beneath you and being mercifully saved from the consequence no less. Lucifer isn’t happy with his butcher.”

  His butcher. The only thing keeping me from incinerating Sytry where he stood was Seere’s voice in my head.

  He couldn’t handle me even if I were his. She was attempting to make light of the comment. Despite its implication of ownership.

  But Sytry said other things too. Proving that Lillith had been feeding Lucifer and his brutes everything. I’ll have to remind that bitch of her place.

  Seere smiled wickedly at the Fallen angel. “Shall we spar, Sytry? Do you think you’d do better this time around?” she asked pointedly.

  His eyes flared with anger, but only for a moment before that aggravating composure returned.

  “I’m surprised to see you’re actually still around and kicking. Isn’t the end of your life cycle fast approaching?” he asked.

  Seere didn’t let him see her falter, and neither did I. But I felt it in the connection. It was true that as a fifth-generation demon, Seere wasn’t supposed to live as long as she has.

  She’d be lucky to last until her second millennia, if even that.

  But we agreed not to discuss it. We both would rather not dwell on her shorter lifespan.

  The fact that she had lived this long made me hope that her unique skills would negate her fate. Or maybe I could find a way to keep her around longer. Another reason why angelic allies would be helpful in the future.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you, Sytry?” I asked.

  Sytry cocked his head to the side and darted his eyes between us. Cruel amusement rose the corner of his mouth.

  “Lucifer expects a report soon. I wouldn’t make him wait much longer,” he suggested.

  I clasped Seere’s hand in mine.

  “Noted. Have a safe trip back to the pit. Would you do me a favor and send Lillith our way, she has actual work to do,” I requested.

  Sytry bowed his head slightly in response. It was all the confirmation I needed before I bent space into the Ethereal realm and aimed for the warehouse.

  He’s a fucking asshole. Seere said down the connection.

  He won’t be smiling forever. I replied.

  Seere squeezed my hand. Allies, Kale. We need allies. She emphasized.

  The smoke and fire cleared from around us, now calmer since I’d left off steam, revealing an empty warehouse floor. I could hear voices from beyond the archway. Belonging to an archangel and a mortal who both were not who I wanted to see just yet. But I had no other choice.

  I turned to look down at Seere, still holding her hand. Sytry’s visit was a reminder of a darker time, filled with blood and vacant eyes that never failed to rip me open. I was working to close that door before it could fully open again.

  Seere tightened her grip on my hand and even squeezed my arm with her other hand.

  “Don’t let your demons eat you,” she whispered.

  I nodded. And then heard a small chirp that reminded me of the lizard Leaper still attached to my finger. I lifted my hand and chuckled. I’m surprised Sytry didn’t notice him.

  I asked him, “Ready to meet some people?”

  THIRTY

  Gabriel

  “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?”

  Heather shrieked as Kaleus showed us the tiny primordial he had wrapped around his index finger.

  Kaleus chuckled darkly, rotating his hand to
show it off more. “It’s a Leaper.”

  “Is there a reason you have it attached to you like an accessory?” I asked.

  Kaleus reached down with his finger and stroked the green and yellow spines on its back.

  “Well after I burnt all of his buddies to a crisp, I had a thought that maybe it could be interesting to have a primordial as a pet,” he explained plainly.

  “It’s a he?” I implied.

  He grinned from ear to ear and lifted his finger higher to ‘present’ it. “I named him Abson.”

  “Wha—" she stopped short. Kaleus glanced at Heather and saw the fear on her face and his smirk grew larger, deadlier.

  “Don’t be afraid, he’s completely harmless. Well, unless you let him near a major artery. I wouldn’t suggest doing that,” he winked.

  Seere huffed a laugh as she popped off the cap of a beer from the fridge and began drinking.

  I looked at the Leaper and then at Kaleus. “It’s dangerous to have here, Kaleus,” I stated.

  He waved me off. “Relax, Abson and I have an understanding. I’ll keep him contained while I’m not around, okay?”

  Heather was staring at it, slightly horrified, but also curious. Among all the primordials, Leapers weren’t nearly the worst, especially when they were alone. In a pack, they are lethal, but one less so.

  “Keep it on you or in a different location,” I ordered. “No matter how small, we shouldn’t risk Heather’s safety.”

  Kaleus rolled his eyes. “I suppose I can agree to that. What are you two up to?” he asked, bored.

  He snapped his fingers and the Leaper disappeared, no doubt into some enclosure elsewhere. He went and sat on one of the kitchen island stools, Seere sat on the counter next to him.

  I gestured to the pile of parchment we had acquired over the last few days.

  “Trying to weed out anything important,” I answered.

  “How did your visit with daddy go?” Kaleus asked.

  I told him about the information the almighty had given us, and then about Chamuel and what information we had gotten from him.

  Seere was the one who responded when I finished.

  “So we have nothing. All that time and we’re still barely moving?”

  “Knowing where one relic is located is something. The others may find something too, and we have all of this to read through. We just have to keep looking,” I replied.

  Seere turned to look at Kaleus, he locked eyes with her. They were communicating silently.

  Kaleus sighed and held his hand out towards the table. “Fine. Give me something to read.”

  And so that’s what the four of us did for an hour. Well, three of us. Seere regularly got bored and did something else, eventually completely disappearing altogether. Duma and Daevas eventually came in from their perspective hallways and joined us in our reading.

  Iaoel and Jade returned to the warehouse, bringing additional reading material along with them. Jophiel hadn’t come back, but she had sent me a message that she was attending to her division for a little while, taking a break from the alliance at the same time. I couldn’t blame her; we were all a little tense.

  It was close to five-thirty when Jade rose from her chair and walked into the kitchen—pulling out various pans and ingredients.

  “Anyone hungry?” she asked.

  Angels didn’t need to eat, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy a good meal when we wanted to. Heather and the demons on the other hand needed the nutrients.

  “Depends on what you’re cooking,” Kaleus stated.

  His attentions remained on the parchment he held in his hand, but I noticed that every time he spoke Heather’s gaze would shift to him, watching his every move.

  No doubt that he noticed as well, but he pretended not to. Something had clearly happened between the two, but Heather didn’t feel inclined to tell me exactly what.

  I’ll admit, my imagination wasn’t helping either. It took extreme effort to suppress the growing anger and worry in my chest when I observed the two. They kept looking at each other, but remaining their distance.

  I was gone for a few days, and already I felt left out of the loop.

  I knew I should probably respect Heather’s privacy. But to have the son of Lucifer looking at her like an enemy stirred the Guardian bond to the point of shaking.

  Jade was speaking, but I wasn’t hearing the words. My senses were honed-in on every breath the Prince made, and every watchful gaze Heather shot him.

  Kaleus’ eyes shifted, catching my stare. I felt the tap in the front of my skull, his request to connect.

  I let him in. I know I’m gorgeous, feathers. But the staring is getting a little creepy. He stated.

  My jaw tightened. Did something happen between you and Heather?

  Kaleus’ bored expression upturned into his signature smirk. Jealous?

  I rolled my eyes. I’m serious. Your mood has changed with her.

  It was his turn to roll his eyes. We got into an argument.

  Anything I should know about? I asked.

  If she didn’t tell you then I would venture to guess the answer to that is no. He replied simply.

  I scowled. Well, whatever it is. I expect you’ll be professional from now on.

  Internally I heard him snort. You and I both know that professional is not in my vocabulary, featherbrain. Besides, other people expect me to be entirely unprofessional, so…I can’t let them down.

  You’re insufferable.

  I looked back at Heather to see her watching me. It seemed she had begun to realize the times when I communicated telepathically. It would certainly be nice to be able to do so with her, a much faster method of communication, and a lot more personal.

  Jade was cooking, and Duma had gotten up to help her. By the smell of cumin and turmeric, she seemed to have opted for a type of curry.

  Heather sighed as she tossed aside a piece of paper and picked up another.

  “This is all we’ve collected from nine of the Scribe outposts,” Duma said. “We still have a lot more to visit.”

  “How many Scribe locations are there on earth?” Heather asked out loud.

  I was the one to answer, “There are hundreds of small ones, but the largest ones—there’s about sixteen.”

  “What about the prisons? How many of those are there?”

  Daevas answered this time, “Twelve. Scattered around the world.”

  Heather bit her bottom lip, thinking. “How many of them are open?”

  “Three so far,” Kaleus replied quietly.

  “Nessus in Tasmania, Fangelsi in Angola and most recently Sheol in Cyprus,” I explained. I looked at Kaleus. “You went to Tyurma to check it, right?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It’s solid. I put an alert sigil on it to notify me if it’s opened,” he answered.

  “So, if the Scribes record everything in both immortal and mortal history, then why aren’t we finding a lot on the relics?” Heather asked.

  “These outposts, old information gets buried underneath the new. And a great deal of the Scribes are too young to know about the relics, let alone know exactly where we can find records of them,” Duma explained from the kitchen.

  Heather scrunched her nose. “Can’t you just like look up key words and let the system find the information, like a computer?”

  Some of them chuckled at that, the loudest among them being Kaleus and Jade. “The larger archives are older than the computer age, they haven’t upgraded yet,” Jade said.

  “So, we’re just looking for a needle in a haystack, and using a magnet isn’t an option,” she commended.

  I nodded. Heather clicked her tongue.

  “So much for organization,” she muttered.

  We locked eyes and I smiled warmly at her humor. “It’s a work in progress,” I chuckled.

  She huffed and looked aimlessly at the scattered paper on the table.

  Her expression shifted to something saddened. “This is sounding like it’s go
ing to be a longer trip than originally planned,” she stated quietly.