Order of the Omni: A Supernatural Romantic Suspense Novel (The Immortalies Book 1)

by Penny Knight

  Her mouth is moving angrily, and the two boys laugh.

  “You get used to it,” Lucas says as they walk closer to the car.

  “Will I?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t I see you throw up just before we passed the checkpoint?” she says.

  That is met with a scoff. “That’s because of the bad sushi I ate last night.”

  “Yeah, right.” Elita throws a mint in her mouth. ‘Sure it is.”

  “All good?” I ask when she’s closer. Her eyebrow answers me instead of her mouth. A small smile escapes me.

  “Why is it always me that has to be the one to throw up?” She crosses her arms.

  “Come on, trouble, in the car.” I nod to the open door. “Change of plans, Broderick. You ride with the boys. Follow us and signal if you need to stop.”

  There are things I need to tell her. Things I need to get off my chest. I haven’t been this nervous in a long time. How will she react when I tell her I can enslave people? This does not go over well with humans. I don’t blame them. Once they know, there always be the question whether they have exercised their own free will. Or if it’s me that planted what they believe to be true of the actions they take. Not even the humans that work for me know about enslavement. She may hate me when I tell her what I did to her best friend, her brother, Topher.

  We’re just outside of Mount Martha, the suburb that her mother now lives in, a coastal residence in Victoria.

  Her leg bounces up and down, her eyes fixated out the side window watching the scenery flash by as we drive. But I doubt she is taking any of the coastal scenery in as her mind looks to be racing a mile a minute.

  “What was she like?” I ask softly.

  I’m surprised her head turns to me.

  “From what I remember, your standard junkie. There were moments where she was nice and even funny, but they were rare. She didn’t want me there. It was obvious even as a child. I guess that’s why she left.” There’s no emotion in her voice as she talks. She’s resigned and detached, accepting her past and the trauma. I hate this woman already.

  “You’ve never looked for her?”

  “I thought about it.” She shrugs. “But then I realise there’s no reason to find her. There are no words that would make what she did okay. And I stopped thinking of her as my mother a long time ago. Obviously, she couldn’t raise a child, she wasn’t fit for it. I know how addiction works, I lived with her.”

  “Do you think she knew about this world?”

  She laughs. “She hardly knew what day it was.” She exhales a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t know. She never told me anything about my father and I never really wanted to know. I just assumed it was one of the many men that would come in and out of the house. Maybe not them, but someone like them. Maybe I need to find him, maybe he knows why I can do what I can do. Maybe he can, too?”

  “Maybe,” I say. “I haven’t come across anyone with your powers before. It doesn’t mean there aren’t more like you. I could just simply not know.” I try hard to ease her worry. Being alone with a gift like hers must be difficult. “I have known mentalist that claim to read the minds of people, but it’s more like hypnosis, implanting information. But with you it’s like an open tap, it’s a gift, a power.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I saw online, too. It’s not really the same and honestly I always thought that was bullshit.”

  I chuckle.

  “There are some that are better than others. But no, those things can be learnt by mind control and hypnosis. Actually.” I take a deep breath. “There is something I need to tell you. I want to be honest with you and I want to help you.”

  Her head swings back towards me, her eyes wide, “I don’t like the sound of that.” Her body goes still and her eyes lock on me. Neither do I.

  “When you watch these videos of hypnotists or mentalists, or you hear about people being brainwashed. I know you said something earlier about a cult, and the leader of the cult probably would use some of these techniques. Humans, over the years, have gotten better and after a lot of training they can do substantial damage with their techniques that they develop. They are not like yours, but most things can be learnt. I’m over 2000 years old and I have been specifically trained to enslave people.”

  It’s quiet.

  My body, my mind and my god damn heart wait in anticipation. Praying she doesn’t run out of this moving car. Or worse, I lose this. Her openness, her trust. Her.

  She’s quiet as she processes the information. “Enslave?” She narrows her eyes. “Can you explain that a bit more?” Her voice holds no emotion. Not a good sign.

  I nod.

  “I think the best way to explain it is using your vampire theory.” She’s quiet as she listens. “In most vampire movies or literature, they can gaze deeply into someone’s eyes and control their mind, body, actions, even their thoughts.”

  “You can do that?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  “I can.” I nod. “I haven’t with you.”

  “I should bloody well hope you haven’t!” She looks aghast.

  I’m quiet.

  She watches me, her eyes narrowed. “Why do you look guilty?” She’s smart, and I need to stop being surprised by this. She’s my one-of-a-kind.

  Here goes.

  “Because. I have used enslavement with Topher.” My eyes meet hers.

  Now she’s silent.

  She sits back in the chair, resting her head against the headrest. Her eyes are close and she’s breathing deeply, trying to calm her response. I need to fix this.

  “It was before I got to know you.” I try to justify it, even though I don’t need to.

  Her eyes are still closed. “Would that make a difference even if you did know me? Would you still have done it to him?”

  When you’re confessing, the only thing is to be completely honest. She may not like what she wants to hear, but hopefully she will realise my honesty and learn to trust me. Again.

  “I’d do the same. If it meant keeping you safe.”

  Her eyes open and she looks at me, her head still resting on the headrest.

  “Why haven’t you used it on me? Surely I would have given you less trouble?” That is definitely the truth and something I thought about a lot.

  “I don’t know. I can’t make myself do it.” Being vulnerable isn’t something I’m used to, and I shift uncomfortably.

  We both stare at each other as the car comes to a stop, not even needing to look, I know we’ve reached our destination.

  “We’re here.” Fear flashes through her eyes and quickly gets hidden as she sits straight up.

  “Okay.” She takes a long deep breath in. “We’re going to finish this conversation later,” she says pointedly, and I nod.

  She turns and sees the house. It’s a single-story mansion. Her face scrunches up in confusion.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” Her eyes are trailing up and looking around.

  “Yes.”

  “It can’t be,” she whispers, barely audible.

  “Elita, we don’t have to do this today.” Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

  She answers by opening the door. She hasn’t broken eye contact with the large double front doors at the end of a long-paved path.

  “I won’t be long.” She drops her head back inside the car. “No way this is where she lives.”

  I don’t tell her this is one hundred percent where she lives. It had taken a while and some not so ethical tactics to get this information.

  “Remember, I’m here. If you don’t want to do this, tell me what you want to know, and I can retrieve the information for you.”

  “No,” she says firmly. “Don’t follow me in there Leo, no matter what you hear. Well, obviously if she tries to kill me, then please help. But whatever happens, let me deal with it. Besides.” She looks back to the house. “There’s no fucking way she lives here.”

  I do as she asks and don’t follow. But I don’t wait in the
car, either. This was the reason I decided on this time for the meeting. The sun has set.

  I stand leaning on the boot of the car, with the men to the side. All of us waiting as we watch her walking towards the door.

  We sent a team last night to set up a perimeter around the zone. I can imagine where they would be but cannot see them, which is exactly how it should be. If I made them, then there would be trouble.

  “Here we go,” Lucas says, lighting up a smoke. He nods towards Elita as she pushes the doorbell.

  It rings loud and clear.

  There’s silence as we all wait to see who is on the other side of the door.

  As expected, a middle-aged woman, beautiful in her own right. Although it’s hard to call a woman beautiful when she abandoned her child, but there is no doubt that she’s Elita’s mother. The resemblance is undeniable.

  The woman greets her with a bright smile.

  “Hello love. Can I help you?” she asks Elita, and I hate that I can’t see her face. Is she ok?

  There’s no response.

  “Oh shit,” Broderick says.

  “She’s got this,” I say. She is the strongest woman I know.

  The woman takes a step out of the door. “Are you friends with Hannah?”

  “Hannah?” Elita’s soft voice finally hits my ears.

  Her mother’s face screws up and she must realise this is no ordinary visit. Her eyes dart around, then land on us, then back to Elita.

  “Who are you?” she demands.

  “I get it’s been a while. But I’m your daughter. Elita.” There she is. I see her spine straightening and I relax more leaning on the car.

  Her mother’s mouth drops open and colour drains from her face. Her eyes bouncing between us and Elita. She steps forward quickly and grabs her arm, pulling her closer and hisses. “What are you doing here?”

  I push off of the car. How dare she touch or talk to her like that? I feel a hand on my shoulder. Fucking Broderick. I growl and lean back on the car.

  I hate being unable to do anything but watch someone I love get hurt in front of me.

  Love.

  Where did that come from?

  Actually, why would I be that surprised? My reaction to her is undeniable, I have never been this affected, and I’m over trying to rationalise why I feel this way. So what if it was predestined and put in my head so long ago?

  It’s her, this woman that’s right in front of my eyes. The one that grabs her mother’s wrist and pries it off her arm in disgust. She doesn’t cower, she doesn’t waver. Of course, it’s love. She is my mate. My fate. My soul.

  “I’m your daughter, are you not curious.” Elita tries to reason.

  “Ssshhh.” This time she closes the door behind her.

  Elita’s body goes rigid.

  “We got an incoming,” Lucas says. “White BMW pulling into the drive.”

  “Shit, you have to go,” the woman says desperately to Elita.

  “What?” Elita asks dumbfounded.

  Her question is answered by a group of girls not much younger than her piling out of the car.

  “Mum, you should see what Lauren made me buy!” A bubbly young lady holds up a store bag as she walks with her friends towards the door.

  Elita’s mother moves beside her and changes her facial expression and looks at her daughter with love and happiness. “Oh honey, that’s great. Why don’t you and the girls go out back and I can get you some drinks? Your brother won’t be here for a bit, he’s still at work.”

  There’s more conversation, the girl asking who this is, even saying hello to Elita. But I cannot concentrate because when her mother pushed past Elita, she turned to watch the exchange, and I could see her heart breaking right in front of me.

  This was a terrible idea.

  Brother?

  I’m hearing the words and watching the scene play out. Comprehension is not instant for me, it’s a trickle. A few drops of information, the first being my mother opening the door.

  Her hair, smooth, long and healthy. It had always been long. The images ingrained in my memories, are not what I see before me. I remember having to help brush her stringy, dry, brittle hair for her job appointment meetings. It would fall out in clumps, no doubt from the long-time consumption of meth.

  Should I feel happy she cleaned up her life? Clearly, she’s no longer hooked on the crystal pipe. Should I lie to myself that for some silly childish reason I had a moment of thinking things could be different now that she was?

  I must remember to tell Topher again, that what happened in Coober Pedy was not his fault. The feeling of wanting love from your mother is overwhelming. That even for me, after all these years and how she had abandoned me, I still had a glimmer of hope. When she opened the door, for a split second, I wanted her to tell me how sorry she was. How much she thought about me every day. Topher had his parent’s back and begging for forgiveness just to induct him into their cult of worship. He didn’t stand a chance.

  Stupid, that’s what that was. But, why did I not expect she moved on and had another family? That was naïve. I’m slowly realising this vault I have put all the bad memories and thoughts in is not safe, is not helping at all. I could have been more prepared. Just like the amulet and my reliance on it that had me suffering withdrawals. It’s my own damn fault.

  That’s it. As soon as I am over this hurdle and my life is not in imminent danger, I will get rid of the amulet, learn how to control all aspects of this power. And take control back of my life.

  Leo was right.

  Once the girl, not much younger than me, gives me a once over with her friends, she passes through the front door, throwing her shopping bag over her shoulder. My darkness has completely taken over. I’m woman enough to realise that. I hate her already.

  My only course of action now is survival. This woman is truly nothing to me anymore. She will never hold the title of mother in my mind or heart. Her name is Irina, and Irina has information that I need.

  The door slams shut, and she swings her head back around to me. Her smile replaced with disdain as she opens her mouth to talk.

  “What is it you want? Money?” she hisses. “How much?”

  I laugh.

  I have no idea why. It’s completely inappropriate and the complete opposite as to how her words affect me. What else am I meant to do at this point?

  She looks at me like I’m insane.

  Right now, I do feel a little crazy, so she’s not too far off.

  “Irina, I don’t want your money.” The laughter disappears. I’m drained, physically and emotionally.

  “Well, what is it you want?” she says. “You are risking my family, coming here like this.”

  And again, quite obvious she does not put me in that category.

  “Really? I take it they don’t know you were a junkie prostitute?” This tactic is the best for two reasons: one, it feels good to be mean. The second, people that let their emotions take control always reveal too much and don’t realise it. And, she looks pissed.

  “I was never a prostitute,” she hisses and pushes me further away from the door. Bingo, her sore point.

  “There is nothing wrong with that as a profession,” I say standing tall. How dare she think she’s better than anyone else that has sex for money. Life happens and choices are thrust upon us. That I can understand. Her thinking she is somehow above it, I don’t.

  Her mouth drops open and gasps.

  She then looks me up and down again before turning her attention to the men waiting for me.

  Well, that doesn’t look good.

  I shrug, she can think what she wants.

  “Irina, I’m not here to argue the merits of the sex work industry. I want to know who my biological father is. Tell me that, and I will leave you be. And trust me when I tell you this.” I clasp my hands together. “I promise, there will never be another time in my life I will ever seek you out and look at your face again.”

  She winces.

>   That surprises me, but I feel nothing.

  Irina recovers quickly. “Yeah, you may hate me, but you have no idea what I went through. You don’t know how hard it was growing up with my family.”

  Is she really complaining about how she was treated by her family?

  “No, I don’t. Nor do I care. Unless it has to do with who my biological father is and how I got this tattoo on the back of my neck, I couldn’t give two fucks about what you went through.”

  I clench my amulet. I can just remove this and get the information from her I want.

  I know it will work. It worked with Gregory at the bookstore. This could all be so much easier.

  But I can’t.

  It’s one thing hearing the words coming out of her mouth about how little I mean to her. I will not survive hearing her internal thoughts confirming it.

  If she doesn’t give me the information the old fashion way. If I survive this prophecy, I will come back stronger and less emotional.

  Her entire demeanour changes when I mention my mark.

  Her eyes grow wide. Scared?

  Interesting.

  “This wasn’t part of the deal.” She grabs my arm again and I pull it away like it burns. “Listen, you were never part of the deal. And if you being here now somehow stops my payments, I am going to be pissed.”

  “Payments? What payments?” It dawns on me what she means. It wasn’t a coincidence she left me right before they came. Did.... Did she sell me to them? Did she sell an eight-year-old girl, to a group of men?

  She couldn’t be that evil.

  Could she?

  “Do you mean the payments from the men that came to the house when you left?” I don’t recognise my icy voice.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. What do you take me for?” she spits out.

  Does she really want me to answer that?

  “Look, please.” Her hands grasp mine. “Don’t do this to my children, don’t bring your troubles here. I took the money that was promised to me. I did my job. You weren’t ever part of the deal. I am sorry but don’t punish my innocent children.”