Maestra

by Elle Cross

  Copyright Page

  * * *

  Maestra © 2019 Elle Cross

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  * * *

  Cover Design by Jennifer Munswami, J.M. Rising Horse Creations

  Contents

  Story Description

  Geography

  History

  Part I

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Part II

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Invicta Preview

  Author Note

  Acknowledgments

  Join the Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books By Elle Cross

  To the light workers who continue to shine in darkness.

  Story Description

  Love is a strange master

  I am Immortelle...the woman who lives.

  As a honed weapon for the Cabal, I was made to kill. To defeat my enemies. To win.

  I was made to survive whatever was thrown at me.

  What I wasn't prepared for was surviving after love.

  When I lost my family, I became the living embodiment for vengeance, killing all who had robbed me of my peace.

  I expected retribution. Instead, I received an unusual offer: to accept an inheritance.

  If I claim it, I will have the power to seek the shimmering future that I desperately want. But, I will also inherit new enemies who want that power for themselves.

  A blessing and a curse. Two fates tied to the same coin.

  Fortunately, I don't have to decide alone.

  At my side are four immortal warriors who will stand by me through anything, even against a looming threat…

  Geography

  The Mortal Coil

  The mortal world and all it entails. Known also as the Middle Ground, Neutral Territory, and Armistice by those from the Underworld. Vendettas and old grudges must be set aside, and so is a convenient place to conduct business.

  * * *

  Known meeting places:

  Arapax Hotel Resorts

  The Trinity Stone Cathedrals

  The Underworld

  The supernatural world and all it entails. Much of the Underworld is unmapped, even by the Cabal. Most territories stand alone; the ones under the Cabal are interconnected by the Ephemera Gates—the collective power gathered from the Mortal Coil that creates transportation portals and bridges.

  * * *

  The Known Territories under the Cabal Accords:

  The Omnia Compound—Cabal home base

  The Firelock Burrows—Dragonkeep

  Ashenguard—The Gargoyle havens

  The Underhill—Faerie Courts

  Deepstar Chasm—Demonhold

  The Mircalla Circle—Three Vampire Courts and their various Houses

  History

  After a thousand years of infighting and bloodshed, the leaders of the clans of immortals who lived in the Underworld called for a détente.

  A small faction of allies among the known territories rose up in their respective courts and nations. These dissidents who called themselves the Cabal, paved the way for an Armistice that would allow all the immortals to thrive.

  And so it was that they drew up the Accords, and immortals grew in numbers once more. The Accords weren’t perfect, but they kept the peace intact among otherwise bloodthirsty beings with long memories who held grudges over the smallest slights.

  The Cabal used their weapons wisely, cutting down any rebellion to their peace, no matter where the source came from.

  It would have worked. Should have worked. But among creatures that are hard to kill, it is in their nature to sow strife and mischief, to breed war and flirt with death.

  So it was that the fragile thread of peace began to unravel…

  When the gods want to punish us, they answer our prayers.

  Oscar Wilde.

  * * *

  Backwards up the mossy glen

  Turn'd and troop'd the goblin men,

  With their shrill repeated cry,

  "Come buy, come buy."

  From “Goblin Market” by Christina Rosetti

  Part I

  Turning and turning in the widening gyre

  The falcon cannot hear the falconer…

  * * *

  From “The Second Coming” by W.B. Yeats

  The dark corners of the Omnia Compound were still. Not even a hint of gossip or shade of rumor whipped among the shadows. It was as if peace had finally settled into the Underworld.

  The Cabal knew better. Their Accords were set in place to protect their own interests, not to promote peace. What peace they had maintained for centuries was merely a smooth facade that served to hide the glittering fangs that craved destruction.

  No, this was not peace.

  It was…a curiosity. There was something new in the Underworld. Something that had not been seen in the Known Territories, not since the Cabal was formed.

  A woman.

  The woman.

  The woman who had once been their weapon, and was now something else.

  Something different.

  Something more.

  They needed to know what this something was.

  Her very presence changed things when it never had when she was here before.

  And yet, no gossip or rumor had yet to peel in her direction, even as she lay vulnerable in her lover’s arms. It was as if she was both there and not there.

  A blind spot for the Cabal.

  Of all the predators that roam the known territories, this unknown commodity might be the most dangerous one of them all.

  Immortelle awoke in Death’s arms, her back pressed against his chest, his hand caressing her throat. The quiet darkness of the room made it feel like they were in a cocoon. There was no world beyond this bed for all she cared. They were all that was left of the world.

  If only that were true. It would make life easier, wouldn’t it? To have no choices before her other than to go back to sleep or to wake.

  Of course, given that choice even now, she would choose to wake up every time. Especially now that she could spend it wrapped in love.

  She sighed. Love made you do strange things.

  Only love would have compelled her to stay the night with Death against her better judgment. Only love would drive her into the arms of the last person she wanted to admit to loving.

  There was no sense in lying to herself and denying what she felt. Life was too short for that kind of foolishness, and she had Death to remind her.

  Death moved against her, angling his head to capture her earlobe in a sucking kiss, the rough stubble of his chin grazing against the smooth
slope of her shoulder. “Good morning.” The gravelly texture that sleep had rolled into his normally smooth and cool voice made her heart race, skin already yearning for more of his touch.

  His thumb stroked the fluttering pulse at her neck in hypnotic circles as he pressed more of himself against her body.

  She shifted her hips, rubbing her bottom against the hard front of him. Death sucked air through his teeth, his hand clamping down on her hip, strong fingers pressing into her flesh. They would leave a mark on her. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a lethal whisper in her ear. A hint of dark laughter tinged the edges of his words.

  Goosebumps rose on her flesh in reaction. “Making a good morning even better?” She practically purred. She’d never thought of herself as someone capable of this kind of flirting, nor did she ever think she would be the type of person to actually like it. But lately, she realized just how little she truly knew of herself—and how much she had denied parts of herself that she didn’t want to be true.

  Like love. The meaning of love. Who she loved.

  Death pushed her onto her back before covering her with his body. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pushed her arms above her head, clasping her wrists together. “Keep these up.” He trailed a kiss from her neck to her shoulder, grazing his teeth ever so gently over her skin, being careful not to break it.

  She didn’t want careful.

  Immortelle coaxed him to go faster, pleaded with him through grunts and whines because if she used her hands, the evil man would stop what he was doing. He was lapping lazily at her breasts, tasting one thoroughly before going to the other. She needed more, needed her release.

  Moving her hips against him, she urged him for more. He shifted his weight in response, pinning her down so she could barely move beneath him. His black gaze bored into her, drilling her in place as he loomed above her.

  He captured her lips. Softly. Gently. The sensations slowly unraveling her decorum as a whimper escaped her throat.

  The cruel man would not be swayed from his slow and thorough exploration of her, taking his time to lick and kiss the various parts of her that he could reach. The sensitive spot by her earlobe. Her racing pulse at her throat.

  He tore through every shred of control she had. She was nothing but a writhing liquid heat, an all-consuming living fire.

  “Please,” she finally whispered. “Please.” She didn’t know what she asked for, but somehow he knew.

  Death captured her mouth, drinking down the torment that poured from her lips in offering. Whatever emotion he drank from her rippled over his skin like electricity.

  And that was when she realized that this was what he wanted. What he needed.

  Her. Wholly and completely surrendered to him.

  He nestled his hips between her legs and she wrapped herself around his body in response. Slowly, with exquisite precision as if he had all the time in the world, he slid inside of her and damn if it didn’t feel like home.

  Immortelle gazed up at him from under hooded eyes, meeting each of his thrusts measure for measure. This. This is exactly what I needed. What we needed.

  He pushed her knees up to her chest in order to gain better leverage. He pumped into her faster and faster. The corded muscles of his neck tensed, teeth gritted together as he fought to maintain control. The glint of his fangs teased at the edge of her vision.

  She knew what she wanted next. She reached up and cupped the side of his face. He leaned into it and nipped at the meaty part of her palm. A surge of pleasure rippled in her body in response.

  A wicked darkness flickered in his eyes. “You want more?”

  She nodded.

  “Say the words. I need them.” His voice was thick with desire, fighting for control even as his rhythm grew more insistent.

  Gods, he felt so good. “Bite me, dammit.”

  He growled in answer, hips pummeling against her. “It’ll hurt.”

  He drove her higher and higher away from all reason, and she wanted to go there, to fly away and fall with no worries. “No, it won’t,” she managed to say. “Please.” She offered up her neck.

  The please and the offering did him in. She knew it was a tribute he couldn’t ignore. He buried his fingers in her hair and pulled, arching her neck back until her entire body curved like a lithe bow. His other hand traveled between their bucking bodies so he could press against her swollen nub of flesh, stroking her there with his thumb as he licked her neck.

  His gentle movements, so at odds with his hard fucking, tipped her over the edge. At her first cry, she raked her nails down his shoulders. A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest and he thrust into her harder. Loud smacks of flesh echoed into the room.

  He rammed into her in one massive last thrust, grinding himself against her. When she was drowning in waves of pleasure, he sank his fangs into her neck and sucked.

  He was right. It hurt. But the pain mingled with her lust and tipped her over into another spiraling dive into oblivion.

  “Not yet, my love. Not yet. Stay with me.” He detached himself from her neck, licking the puncture wounds closed.

  His skin practically glowed. Then again, so did hers. He moved away from her, the flesh between his legs growing hard once more.

  Immortelle reached out to touch him, but before she could, he flipped her over to her front and covered her body. Pushing her legs apart, he drove into her again with a maddened fury, her liquefied core sucking him in greedily. She gripped the edge of the bed before he drove both of them off of it.

  Mounting pressure built up quickly inside her this time and she was going to shatter once more.

  He buried his fingers in her hair, kneading her scalp before tightening his grip so that he pulled her head back. She teetered on that edge of pleasure again. That yawning chasm where there was no thought. Only sensation.

  “Now.” That quiet command was the only warning she had before he sank his fangs into the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder. She was gone.

  Yes, love was a strange master indeed.

  * * *

  Though she’d spent the night with Death, and the morning, Immortelle insisted on getting ready in her own private suite.

  She brushed her hair out and rebraided it. She was about to take the braids out again when there was a soft knock on the door, followed by a quiet, “It’s me.”

  She laughed to herself. Who else would it be? No one dared to stay in this portion of the Omnia Compound. This entire wing belonged to Death.

  The feel of him was palpable here. It was a quietness like what she imagined the depths of space to be like.

  Knowing he would like it, she opened the door to invite him in. He was alone. She would have thought that the others would be with him, even now.

  "I asked them to delay," he said in that quiet way of his. He had a way of speaking as if his words appeared inside of her head as if he would weave himself in her thoughts. "I wanted to make sure you even wanted company."

  She nodded him inside. The fact that he even thought about what she wanted made her heart flutter. He never used to do that. This...considerate version of Death wasn't new, per se. He’d always seemed to know her better than she knew herself.

  But in the past, he would presume and act on it, simply saying that he knew she would agree.

  It had always been infuriating, but also frustrating because he had been right. And gods, sometimes she had just wanted to act contrary to prove him wrong. But this time was different. He wasn't trying to control her feelings. And she didn’t feel the need to throat punch him every other sentence.

  "No, not really," she said in answer to his question. His face formed into a cold mask. Before he could say anything, however, she continued. "I'm not in the mood to entertain company, but I don't want to be alone."

  Even as confusion marred his perfect face, she slipped her arms around his body and tucked herself under his chin. Breathing him in, she whispered, "Thank you for being h
ere."

  His arms wrapped around her in fierce answer, crushing her against his body. It was amazing to be surrounded by his power again, to hear the heart beating under her face echo in her body.

  "Thank you for being here," he said into her hair.

  She ignored the way her skin reacted to his presence, his voice, his...everything. She was here for a reason, and as much as she loved the feel of belonging again no matter how small, she didn't want to be distracted from her mission.

  She was here for answers.

  Immortelle moved away from him so she could finish getting ready, and thankfully he let her. If he had kept his hold, she wouldn't have had the strength to resist him.

  She wondered if he knew that.

  She padded her way behind a screened divider to see what kind of clothes she had to work with. These were things that she had collected over the millennia and left behind. Clothes, books, weapons…many of the things that she had used regularly were stored neatly. So pristine, they didn’t even have dust on them.