Now that the big bad undead was gone, Ricco said, the vampires were already reorganizing, many trying to overturn the pecking order. Septimus had decided who he wanted to be at the top of this organization—himself—and he and Ricco had formed a loose partnership.
Kelly and Mai compared notes and discovered they both loved vampires, fine clothes, and shoes, and both wanted to write a movie, so they decided to write one together.
“We need something to keep us busy while these two sleep during the day and plot for vampire domination at night,” Mai had said.
Pearl only just tolerated vampires in the kitchen—as long as they were gone when she came in to make breakfast in the morning. Adrian explained to her Septimus would round up and control the vampires gone rogue better than anyone, but that didn’t make Pearl like them in her kitchen any more than necessary.
Pearl had decided to stay on with Amber and Adrian for a while until they were settled. Adrian had moved into Amber’s house permanently. Septimus promised to have a legal identity made up for Adrian, in order to please the paper-pushers, and then Adrian and Amber would marry.
“I like that idea,” Kalen had said, and revealed his and Christine’s plans to marry as well.
Kalen and Christine were leaving for Scotland to begin returning artwork to museums and collections from which Kalen had liberated them for protection during the death magic rise. Christine had been painting almost every minute since the fall of Kehksut, and she presented Leda and Hunter, Amber and Adrian, and Lexi and Darius lovely watercolors before she and Kalen departed to catch their flight.
Leda expressed delight with her painting of Mukasa—the picture flowed with vibrant colors and a magic of its own. Kalen, she could see, admired and was proud of Christine’s ability, though he said not a word. But the look in his eyes spoke volumes.
Lexi and Darius too were leaving, not for a specific destination—though Manhattan first—but to see the world. “There will always be someone out there who needs protecting,” Darius said. He slid his hand to Lexi’s abdomen, a loving move. “Including our own.”
Amber had congratulated Lexi with warm hugs and confessed, with a blush, her own pregnancy. Christine announced hers, as well, although Leda, still not sure, kept her silence.
“Just what the world needs,” Valerian said with a booming laugh. “More pesky Immortals.”
“I think it’s exactly what we need,” Amber had said, leaning back into Adrian’s embrace.
Valerian went with Sabina to her family’s house, helping them regroup after the battle. The shapeshifter pair were firmly a couple now, bantering with each other, both giving as good as they got.
Mac decided not to travel back to Scotland with Kalen and Christine, although he would eventually return to his studio in London to record another album.
“Need to wander a bit,” he said. “Hitch my way around this country, collect some more tunes. Don’t want Manannán getting stale.”
“Couldn’t have anything to do with avoiding your mum, could it?” Christine asked teasingly.
Mac’s face darkened. “Mebbe.”
Mac dispensed kisses, hugs, and firm handshakes all around and departed on foot, his guitar slung across his back, earbuds in his ears. Leda heard his cell phone go off as he reached the bottom of the driveway, and his irritated Scottish voice as he answered. “Aw, Mum, what is it naaow?”
Samantha flew back to Los Angeles with Leda, Hunter, and Mukasa, eager to see her mother again, even if she knew she’d have to include her father in the reunion. She seemed more accepting of him than she had before.
Samantha had remained strangely subdued when Leda had told her that Tain had gone off alone to make his peace with the world. She’d nodded, face strained. “I’d hoped he’d at least say good-bye.”
Leda could think of no response. She remembered the sparks she’d sensed between Samantha and Tain during the battle, but perhaps Tain wasn’t ready to pursue sparks yet.
“Stay in touch,” Leda said when they parted, and hugged Samantha.
Samantha managed a tired smile and returned the embrace. “I will. I might need to sunbathe on your island after all this.”
“You’re always welcome,” Leda said.
“By you, maybe,” Samantha had said. “Not necessarily by the Immortals.”
“We’ll work on that.”
Samantha had not looked convinced, but she’d departed after another warm hug.
Now, as the sailboat pulled away from the marina in Seattle, Leda at the wheel, she was both sad and excited. Sad to leave her new friends, but excited at the prospect of sailing across the ocean, herself and Hunter, and Mukasa of course.
She steered while Hunter worked the lines and sails, guiding the boat through the marina and out to open sea. Mukasa sat on the foredeck, ready to go, earning startled looks from those on passing boats. The sun was high, the wind brisk, the darkness gone. People were coming out to enjoy life again, as it should be.
The journey to the island was fairly uneventful, except for Leda getting a mild sunburn. Taro greeted them enthusiastically when they docked, the little bear as robust and happy as he’d ever been.
Not many days later Japanese wildlife specialists arrived in their ship to transport Taro to his new home in Hokkaido. Leda bade Taro a tearful farewell, but the bear seemed to know he was going back where he belonged.
Hunter scratched behind Taro’s ears and said, “Be well, my friend.”
Taro rumbled softly at him, then scampered into the waiting pen, startling the wildlife researchers who’d come armed with tranquilizer darts and slings for transporting him. Leda waved good-bye until the boat disappeared into the mist, Mukasa beside her.
Hunter was quiet and scarce the rest of that day, and before they had dinner, Leda spied him at the base of the cliff path speaking to the Undine.
Leda hurried outside, hoping to talk to the water spirit herself. She’d been looking for Dyanne since returning to the island but never had been able to catch a glimpse of her or any of her people. Even now, as she approached them, Dyanne glided back into the shadows, vanishing into a pocket of mist.
Leda expressed her disappointment when Hunter reached her. “I’d hoped to speak to her, to thank her for taking care of Taro.”
Hunter twined his fingers through Leda’s and turned with her to walk back to the house. “Their kind is shy with humans. I don’t count; I’m not human.” He grinned as he said it, but he looked after the Undine as though not wanting to meet Leda’s eyes.
“Hunter,” Leda said. “We need to talk.”
Hunter slid his arm around her waist. “You know, when a woman says that, she strikes fear into a man’s heart.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s a beautiful night. I’d rather do something besides talk.”
“Hunter.”
Hunter circled in front of her, his large hands on her waist. “Talking changes nothing.”
“I have to know,” Leda said. “How long do we get this free-for-all? You’re immortal, and maybe our children will be, but I’m not, and you know we can’t have forever. Will you walk out of my life one day? I know how you think, Hunter—you’ll believe it better to simply disappear.”
Hunter’s eyes went bleak. “Won’t it be?”
“And I certainly don’t want to live day to day wondering when you’ll decide the time is up.” Leda drew a breath that hurt her. “So maybe you should go now and get it over with.”
Hunter stilled. “No.”
“Why not? We might as well break our hearts now as later. Later, we’ll have so much more to lose.”
Hunter growled. “I want—I need—time with you. You are the only one, after all these years, that I can heal with. The only one. I’m not throwing that away.”
Leda’s eyes stung. “I heal you, and then what?”
Hunter slid his hands to her hips, thumbs moving in little circles on her hipbones. “Leda, I can’t ever explain what you mean to me. I’m not the Immortal
who can pour his soul into his art, like Kalen, or heal with his touch, like Tain. I think I have an affinity with animals because they don’t talk, not in words anyway. I’m bad at talking.”
“You don’t have to make speeches. That’s not what I want.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
Leda closed the inch of space between them, putting her shaking body against his hard one. “I just want you, Hunter. I want you in my life—for always.”
Hunter smoothed back a lock of her hair. “Leda, my love, you’re going to break my heart in the worst way.”
Leda started to answer, but Hunter scraped her to him and held her tight, burying his face in the curve of her neck. Leda hugged him back, realizing after a moment of feeling him shake, that she’d made this amazingly strong man cry.
They made love in her bed in the airy white bedroom, moonlight and tropical breezes pouring through the windows. Hunter was uncharacteristically silent, loving Leda with a tenderness that surpassed all he’d done before. Afterward he lay beside her, touching her skin with light fingers, resting his warm hand across her abdomen.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Leda turned her head, taking in his troubled expression, the line between his brows. She touched the crease on his forehead. “Is that so bad?”
“I never thought I’d ever love anyone again. It hurt so much the first time.”
“The same thing happened to me. But I’m willing to try.”
“I’ll try if you will.” Hunter cupped her face. “I love you, Leda.”
She kissed him for answer. Their lovemaking after that was more intense and left Leda exhausted. She slid easily into sleep and dreamed that the goddess Kali danced in the wind on the beach for the joy of it, her hair writhing like flames.
Kali whirled around and around then suddenly flowed to Leda where she stood motionless in the shadows outside the house. The moonlight was so bright, everything stood out in stark black and silver, sharp-edged and clear.
“You love my son,” Kali declared in her hissing whisper.
“I do.” Leda felt love flood her body. “I do.”
“Then I will give you a gift.”
Kali brushed long fingers across Leda’s abdomen, and Leda flinched at the searing trail of her touch.
“After your child is born,” Kali said, “go to Ravenscroft and live there a year and a day of your time. Then you and your son will be immortal, and you will be the mate of Hunter until the world dies and the Immortals are needed no more.”
“Thank you,” Leda said, heartfelt. “Why didn’t you . . . With Hunter’s first wife, why didn’t you make her immortal? Or her children? You could have spared him that grief.”
Flames sprang around Kali’s face, reminding Leda that this was the goddess of destruction.
“It was not written,” Kali said in her harsh voice. “He needed to join with Tain and destroy the evil. If he had not met you, he would not have joined with them, and all would have been lost.” The sibilants in her declaration rang out across the sea.
“Oh,” Leda said, thinking about this. “I know I would have fallen in love with him, though, regardless of whether the world needed saving or not.”
“Obviously.” Kali made another strange hissing noise that Leda realized was laughter. “Take care of my son. And grandson.”
Kali whirled again, stirring up a choking dust devil of sand, and was gone. Leda coughed, then she woke in her bedroom alone, the moon high.
Throwing back the sheets, Leda climbed out of bed and went to the window. Outside all was still but for the wind sighing in the palms and the soothing rush of the ocean. The beach was lit almost as brightly as it had been in her dream, the pale light touching Mukasa as he lay, statue-like, and watched Hunter.
Hunter, clad only in his jeans, stood above the line of wet sand on the beach, going through his sword exercises. The long blade of his serpentine sword winked in the moonlight, Hunter’s muscles working in precision as he silently flowed through his routine.
A beautiful man, son of the wild goddess Kali and a barbarian slave—from whom Hunter must have come by his good-natured grin, the twinkle in his eyes, the gentleness beneath his power. A demigod, lonely and vulnerable, yet magical beyond anything the world had seen.
Leda pulled on shorts and a tank top and walked out of the house barefoot. She stopped near Mukasa to watch Hunter continue with his exercises, loving the perfection of Hunter’s body, the lithe grace with which he moved.
Hunter finished the routine with a quiet flourish. He slid his sword into the scabbard he picked up from the sand, bowed once to the sea, then turned around. He spied Leda watching, and the serious warrior god gave place to the mischievous lover.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said as Leda went to him. “But I’m starting to be glad I did.”
“You didn’t wake me. I had a dream.”
She told him about Kali’s visit. Leda knew it had been a true visit and not only a dream, just as the goddesses’ visit to her in Amber’s house had been real, to send her a necessary message.
Hunter listened, stunned. “She offered you that?”
“I have to stay in Ravenscroft a year and a day after our son is born. I think she added that caveat so I could have time to think about it, so I’d understand what being an Immortal truly means.”
Hunter shook his head in amazement. “She really likes you.”
“She knows you need me. That we need each other.”
“No, I mean she really likes you. She told me.”
Leda raised her brows, skeptical. “When was this?”
“She came to me when I walked out here to practice. She said, Good choice, Hunter. I like that Leda.”
“Yeah? No cryptic message?”
“No cryptic message.” Hunter grinned. “Helps to have her on your side. I mean, I wouldn’t want Kali as a mother-in-law.”
“Thanks, Hunter. Don’t scare me.”
He laid his sword on the sand and gathered Leda against him. “I’m looking forward to the family reunions. My Immortal brothers, their wives, their children, the goddesses cooing at their grandchildren. Beats centuries of being alone.”
“You aren’t alone anymore,” Leda said softly.
“I know. I love it.” He kissed her. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
Leda kissed him back, savoring his magic, his warmth, the essence of Hunter. The kiss turned suggestive, reminding her that Hunter had enough stamina to make love to her all night. Every night.
Leda felt Mukasa’s dry nose thrust under her palm, and she broke away, laughing.
“We’ll take him to Ravenscroft with us,” Hunter said. “There are beaches where he can run for miles—no cages, no chains, no tranquilizer guns. Think he’d like that?”
Mukasa growled and butted his head against Hunter, nearly knocking him over. Hunter ran his hands through Mukasa’s mane, rubbing hard, and the lion rumbled in delight.
“Besides,” Hunter said to Leda as he slid his arm around her waist, a roguish twinkle in his green eyes. “Our little Immortal son will need a friend.”
End
Excerpt: The Redeeming
Immortals: Book 5
Los Angeles, September
* * *
Samantha hated being demon bait.
She sat at a high table near the bar in Merrick’s Venice Beach demon club, wearing a form-hugging, short black dress, black thigh-high stockings, and four-inch heels she’d had to practice walking in.
It had been Samantha’s job for the last two weeks to perch on a high stool, cross her long legs, and wait for Merrick or one of his demons to offer her the illegal drug Mindglow. So far no one had pushed her to do anything more than order a second martini.
Tonight was typical for Merrick’s. Every table was full, the clientele waiting eagerly for the demons to come in and choose their marks for the night. A few people sat alone at the bar, includin
g a man with hunched shoulders, who stared morosely at the line of empty shot glasses in front of him.
At eleven o’clock, a door opened in the back and Merrick’s demons strolled out. Beautiful and sensual, both male and female demons greeted the humans with promise-filled smiles. Their auras swirled like dark purple smoke as they touched their victims, deciding whose life essences they would taste that night.
Laws in all states said a demon had to have a human’s permission to feed on his or her life essence—that elusive substance that made a person alive rather than a collection of biological parts. Like the laws that kept vampires from draining their victims dry, rules stated that demons couldn’t siphon off all life essence and leave a person dead. Demons, being demons, constantly sought ways around the permission clause. The black market for life essence was huge and profitable. Hence Mindglow, the demon’s coercion drug, and Samantha’s current assignment.
Merrick, the club’s owner, a well-formed man in a pristine gray five-thousand-dollar suit, glided to Samantha’s table and gave her his broadest smile. “Ah, Sam, I knew you wouldn’t resist returning to Merrick’s. Is tonight the night I convince you to partake in the glory of me?”
Samantha’s nostrils curled at the unmistakable scent of the netherworld, something ordinary humans couldn’t smell. It was the tiniest bit of sulfur and dry air, the scent of power and arrogance.
Modern demons didn’t consider themselves evil, unlike Old Ones, the powerful demons who’d walked the earth in centuries past. Samantha had once fought an Old One—not by herself, but with a group of witches and Immortal warriors—and she could attest to the evilness of the ancient ones. The whole experience still gave her nightmares.
The demons at Merrick’s were lesser demons who’d learned to adapt to living in the human world. If they stepped out of line, they could be arrested, carted off to jail, and tried for crimes like taking too much life essence or coercing their marks to use Mindglow.
Samantha pasted on a vacant smile as she looked up at Merrick. “Maybe.”
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