Immortal Desires: A Depraved Gods Novel

by Elle Lincoln

  “How did you meet?”

  “He showed up one day, my father knew who he was. He was waiting for him. Alloysius raised me, my father, well, he just needed a break. He lost the love of his life. They all did, and I don’t blame him. He visited often and he had hope I wouldn’t fall prey to the curse. I didn’t want kids, you know, I wanted to travel.” She smiles wistfully at a memory I long to view. “Then I met your grandfather and, well... one thing led to another and then I was pregnant. It was then I had to explain everything to him, and Alloysius helped.”

  I rub my temples. “This is too much to process.” Is that my headache coming back or just information overload? Hard to tell. “I need to shower.”

  I crawl over to the tub where Gram slowly fades from view, her eyes sorrowful. I know, because they are the same eyes I see whenever I look into the mirror.

  I go through the movements, numb from the info dump. I can’t even enjoy the hot water as it fills the tub, or the gallon of bubbles I poured into the water. Hell, I don’t even know when I stripped down, but my clothes are lying on the bathroom floor.

  “Mae?” Flynn’s knock on the bathroom door doesn’t even startle me.

  I dunk under the water before coming up, so he doesn’t see the dirt or the tear tracks covering my face. “Yeah?” I speak around the bubbles.

  “Hey.” He tugs off his suit jacket before slowly undoing his undershirt.

  “So, you brought me back last night?” I watch as he exposes his skin, allowing me to see all his scars, his muscles flexing as he unties his shoes and peels them off.

  “I did.” Next, the zipper of his pants echoes in the luxurious bathroom.

  No boxers.

  “Guess I was out of it,” I mumble, as I sink below the bubbles, unable to watch him as he climbs into the clawfoot tub. A sigh hisses from his lungs as he settles in.

  “You were.”

  I nod, sucking on my lip. “Look, Flynn—”

  “Don’t, I was in the wrong.” He laughs but it’s tired. His face is lined with stress, hiding that dimple in his cheek. “I never should have done that and then kept it from you.”

  “Why did you?” I’m willing to hear him out, to understand just what his motive was.

  “At first, I thought it was because I wanted to go where you went, to keep track of you. But you have a very observant friend and he made me realize that perhaps I was jealous of what you could do, and what I could not.”

  As far as excuses go, it isn’t great, but I understand it. Surprisingly. “Your mom, I really didn’t know at first, and then I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “I know. I’ve learned quite a bit from her.”

  “Alloysius is my grandfather. A thousand years back, but still.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all.” He pauses, before speaking once more. “I think the changeling we are looking for was taken as a baby by my mother.”

  “Oh.” It’s the only intelligent thought I can form. “It explains the shrine.”

  “Mother was a summer warrior. One of the greats.” He dunks under the water, washing dirt off his face. “I just can’t decide if my brother, is older or younger.” Those words are full of unknown emotion, a tower on the brink of collapse.

  I don’t even know how I could relate to that, so I don’t say anything.

  “I always wanted a sibling,” he sinks low in the tub, “until Rocco came along. Then I realized how much more a chosen friend could mean.”

  Now that I completely understood. Gramps made sure I was never left wanting for a sibling, filling my days and evenings with moments that are now immortalized forever within me. I make a mental note to seek him out.

  “Where do we go from here?” The subtle meaning in my words doesn’t go unnoticed. My heart pounds, anxious for his response. Can we be salvaged?

  “I want you now and for the rest of my days.” He smiles before crouching toward me in the tub, sweat glistening off his tanned skin. “You are an immortal goddess, Mae, I’m a God of War and Flame. We have forever to figure each other out. You will always have my heart and I suspect I will always have yours.”

  I smile at his confidence, his body encasing mine. “You sound sure of yourself.”

  “We will have arguments, Mae—hell, we may need time apart, whether for vacations or just battles we need to fight on our own. Because we are living our own lives, that’s our reality. We are two people—” I slap his shoulder. “Gods. Coming together as we nurture out separate identities. I don’t want to suffocate you, not anymore. I want you to evolve into the incredible goddess I know you will be. Eternity is a very long time.”

  He leans in close, his mouth hovering just above mine as he waits for that small piece of resistance to fall away. “No more secrets?”

  He pulls back slightly with a devious smile on his lips. “I hold a blood bond with Rocco.”

  “Of course you do.” I shake my head at him, dislodging bubbles. “Kiss me, you fool.”

  His lips are on mine in an instant, devouring me with an intense heat, his magic curling tendrils of warmth around me. I let go of every thought and every single little worry as my lips press against his. My tongue daring little tastes of his lips.

  Need blooms within me, ferocious and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I push him forward, straddling him as my kiss turns hungry. His hands caress my sides, sending a trail of overwhelming desire flooding through me.

  I angle my hips toward him, seeking him beneath the water. I want to wait, to hold out.

  But fuck it, he’s right, we have an eternity to go slow. My hips roll and I sink down onto him. Breaking the kiss, he watches me, his eyes deep and smoky, his lids heavy. He grips my flesh firmly as he thrusts up into me.

  Water sloshes out of the tub, spilling bubbles onto the floor. But the world could be burning all around me and I wouldn’t even care. Uncaring of the water, I set a punishing rhythm. My body seeking to forget the stress my muscles hold, to replace it with something more. Something pure and untainted.

  We may not be fucking perfect, but no one is. We aren’t broken, we are a puzzle just finding those missing pieces. Even if they come with lies and secrets, of truths untold and an unknown future. This is us.

  As white flashes behind my eyes and my body trembles from his touch, I finally allow this man to take all those stresses away from me. To ease in and out of me until stars dance behind my eyes.

  His moans echo through the room, his body quaking as he holds on to me as though I’ll leave. But we both fucking know I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. As his body trembles and his eyes flutter with release, I sink down onto him one more time, melding my body to his as I slump against his chest.

  Breathing ragged and our bodies coated in sweat and soap, I cling to this man. This sinful man who holds secrets unknown and yet one I will desire for all my immortality.

  “We made a mess.” I peek out over the tub, my eyes wide as I hold back my laughter at the water all over the floor. “Maryann is going to be pissed.”

  “Yes, but it’s worth it.” Even though I know my body is slipperier than usual, he lifts us both free of the tub. I slide down as he wraps a towel around me, his lips stealing one more kiss before we are interrupted by a knock on the door. “That’s Rocco.”

  I remember his admission. “That little bond?” Then horror strikes me as he wraps a towel around his waist. “Can he…?” I wave a hand over me.

  “No.” Flynn laughs, walking out of the room to answer the door, but not before shutting me in the bathroom.

  My body feels lighter than it has in days, so I quickly dry, dress, and do something with my hair so it won’t resemble a cotton ball. Maryann left me leather leggings—which means I really had to dry my legs off before putting them on, and not without some powder first—a sports bra and black tank. The brownie catches on quickly. Observant psycho.

  With a smile on my lips, I swing the door open. Flynn’s dressed in a new pair of pants, but not dre
ss pants, on no, he’s wearing leather too and dear goddess does it look fucking incredible on him. Sadly, he pulls a black shirt over his naked chest. I turn to look at Rocco, who’s dressed the same way.

  That’s when it hits me. The clothing, their stoic expressions, the utter stillness of the building. “What happened?”

  Rocco licks his lips, and I swear a sheen of tears coats his eyes. “There’s been another murder.”

  Chapter 17

  Mae

  Silence bears weight. Every tick of an ancient clock echoes through the halls, the minute hand counting time in finite possibilities. Each of those flashing beyond my consciousness as the worst outcomes plague me. An ominous shroud coats every single person we pass, their eyes unwilling to meet my own. I swallow the bile building in my throat, the saliva that threatens to choke me. Every tap-tap-tap of my boots feeling like the chopping of the executioner’s ax.

  The silence speaks more than words. Whoever is gone is someone I know. Perhaps even someone I love. My heart constricts as anxious butterflies take flight in my stomach, their threatening, razor-sharp wings cutting at my insides.

  Night casts its luminous glow upon the white marble floor. Shadows stretch with hungry mouths that kill without hesitation. My mind plays these tricks on me as the silence grows. Hallucinations walk from my peripheral into my conscious mind, toying with my sanity.

  The glass door, held open by the panther sisters, creates a portal onto a street. My anxiety ramps up when I see the wolves sitting outside with their heads hanging low, and there, standing as a man amongst them, is Killian. Their fierce alpha. His eyes red-rimmed and haunted.

  My chest beats harder, my throat dries, and my nostrils flare as I struggle to contain my emotions. “Argos?”

  “This way.”

  I can’t breathe. My body is on autopilot as Flynn’s palm lands on my back, with Rocco taking up the other side. Their sturdy presence won’t allow me to falter, to fall, no matter what scenario I’m about to find. Killian leads us down the street where we walk in silence, the wolves at our back.

  Until we come to a red door I know all too well.

  “Argos?” I question once more. My muscles seizing as they fucking say nothing.

  The door opens and out pours a grief so astounding that even the vilest of souls would weep. Tears spill from my eyes and my feet spring into action as I start toward that fucking red door. My eyes wild and needing to see the source.

  One step, two steps, until the living room assails me with the sight of wolves holding Argos back. I run to him, pushing the beasts aside. His mind broken, unable to register it’s me for a long, few seconds.

  “Mae, oh goddess, Mae.” His body folds, crumpling into mine as we fall to the floor. Voices surround us, their tones hushed, speaking of the macabre violence that broke this home.

  I pull him to me, cradling his body as his pain transfers to me. If I could take his pain, I would. As it is, there is nothing I can do but hold on to him, embracing his body as his grief saturates the room. Guilt swamps me that I’m thankful this man is alive, though I know his lover isn’t. There are few things in this world I cannot live without, and Argos is one of them. Yet, as his body trembles and shakes, I wish for nothing more than his grief to not be real, to be a foreign entity.

  Tears spill from my eyes as I watch the wolves carry Marrok from upstairs. His body torn and tortured by the creature we seek—the changeling. My eyes flicker to Flynn, his hands bloodied as he nods his head. The organ is gone, his magic stolen.

  I hold on to Argos harder, knowing that Marrok is gone forever.

  “I interrupted him.” Everything stops, the room going quiet as Argos’s words break the tension, only to further permeate the air with a heady pressure. Anticipation builds inside me.

  I lick my dry, parched lips. “You interrupted him?”

  Argos pulls away, leaving my shoulder saturated with tears. “I interrupted him.”

  “Did you see who did this?”

  “I didn’t know him, but I cast every fucking spell in my arsenal at him.” A sob escapes his lips. “Nothing worked, but I know he’s hurting.”

  “Did you make him bleed?” My eyes grow in size, needing this one small break.

  “I stabbed him.” He nods his head, looking down at his bloody hands. “But I was too late.”

  “He wasn’t too late.” A soft voice coats my skin with an ethereal whisper. I know without looking who it belongs to. I don’t know if I can look, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to.

  Flynn is right there at my side, his now clean palm on my cheek, his eyes sure and steady—a rock in this moment of chaos. I swallow my pride and look at Marrok.

  His beautiful, ice-blue eyes close as I glance at him, an unspoken acknowledgement of his presence. “Argos.” My voice cracks.

  “What is it?” He pulls away, knowing me all too well. “Oh God, no. No. No.”

  My chest constricts and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Argos, you saved him.”

  His wail will haunt me for life, that solid acknowledgement that his love is well and truly dead. In this world of unknowns, a body can fake the finality of death until that soul moves on, an acknowledgement that the otherworld has gained one more soul.

  “Mae. I can’t stay here,” Marrok pleads, looking over his shoulder. I push my sight to peer through the veil at what he sees. My eyes close with thankfulness, seeing Morrigan stands there instead of a reaper to lead Marrok on.

  “Argos. His time is limited. You need to focus on me.” My palms rest on his cheeks. “Hey, stay with me.”

  His eyes slowly lift, puffy and red. He sniffles a bit. “Okay.”

  “Good, just stay with me, listen to my voice. Marrok has something to say.” My heart beats wildly. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

  “I can say goodbye?” His voice, so childlike, is full of hope.

  “Yeah, I’m going to make sure you get your goodbye.” I hold back my tears, my hand shooting out to grab Flynn’s as the other stays on Argos’s cheek.

  “Now.”

  I pull us through the veil and back away, with Flynn holding me upright. I watch as my best friend struggles for a moment before Marrok kneels before him. I want to look away to allow them this moment of privacy, but I also need to make sure Argos tolerates the veil.

  “Hey.” Marrok tilts Argos’s chin up to look at him. Argos gasps, his breath exhaling on a hiss.

  “Don’t leave me.” Tears spill down his face, splashing on his bloody clothing.

  “My love, leaving you is the last thing I want.” Marrok leans toward Argos’s trembling lips where he kisses him through the tears. “A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”

  “I won’t survive.”

  “You will.” Marrok kisses him once more, their bodies trembling. “You will love again.”

  “My heart, my soul, you’ve stolen both. There will be no one else but you.” Argos grips Marrok’s shirt, his hands balled into fists so tight the knuckles whiten.

  “Then you must wait until I return.”

  “Will I know you?” The promise of reincarnation grants Argos a flicker of hope.

  “I’ll make sure of it,” Morrigan whispers, her haunting tone a gift for forever.

  “Then I’ll wait until forever.”

  “Until forever.” With one last kiss, Marrok pulls away, his hand slipping into Morrigan’s as they cross over to where Argos cannot follow. Not yet at least, and never if I have my selfish way.

  I grip his shoulder, pulling him through, then step away as the whispers and harsh tones in the room quiets. I need patience here, but the need to find this man is nearly overwhelming me.

  “Okay.” Argos pushes to his feet, his eyes seeking out Killian. He holds his hand up in offering. “Can you track him?”

  Killian just pushes his hand down after walking through the room. “I can’t. That blood is wrong. It smells nothing of blood, neithe
r mortal nor immortal. Tainted with iron but laced with something vile. It has no true scent.”

  “Can you not track it based on those descriptions?” I try to keep my voice from rising, but the ability to contain it damn near fails me. “Track it based on no scent?”

  Killian sadly shakes his head no. “I can’t. But he is wounded. We had hoped you could trace his magic?” Killian looks at the three of us expectantly.

  “I have no idea how to even begin.” I rub a weary hand down my face.

  “There are tracking spells, yes, but I don’t have the books.” Argos deflates.

  “The library,” Rocco exclaims, and I hiss at him. He just shrugs at me before continuing, “Come on, I’ll take you there after you wash up.”

  Argos’s eyes widen. “That’s right. There has to be something in there.”

  “What library?” Killian demands. It’s then I realize he’s wearing only jeans.

  Groaning, I quickly fill Killian in about the library, giving up on keeping the damn thing a secret since there are werewolves everywhere with super hearing, and they already heard Rocco spill the beans.

  “Take me with you,” Killian demands.

  “Go clean up,” Rocco counters, before laughing at himself. “No? No one else found that funny? Fine, let’s go.”

  Everyone in the room disperses, leaving only Flynn and I to stare at their retreating backs. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “We have a lead, a small one, but it is something,” Flynn assures me, though it doesn’t help the pit growing in my gut.

  “People keep dying.” It’s final for this life, even with the promise of reincarnation. Grief doesn’t just heal, we find ways to cope. It’s a wound that doesn’t scar, doesn’t close, it just seeps.

  “We will find him. But until then, we should search for my father.” Flynn grips my arm, leading me from the home as several people walk in. I turn to keep them from going into Argos’s sanctuary. “They are cleaning up, however I doubt Argos will be returning here anytime soon.”