by I. T. Lucas
Annani smiled sadly. “How do you think the gods' era ended? The thirst for power is corruptive. It is poison. One ambitious god wanted to run things differently and rule over the other gods. He turned against them, and when he attacked, he perished alongside them. His son continues his evil legacy to this day. My clan and his followers have been fighting over the future of humanity for thousands of years.”
“Who is winning?” Emmett asked.
Was it a genuine question? Or was it meant as sarcasm?
By now, Emmett must have figured out that Annani wasn’t a terrifying tyrant, and he might have felt emboldened.
Annani lifted her chin. “Despite their superior numbers, we are winning, but it is not a smooth progression. There are setbacks, and sometimes the Brotherhood manages to thwart and even undo our efforts, rewinding humanity’s progress by hundreds of years. Still, we keep pushing forward. Without us, humans would still be in the Dark Ages and probably enslaved to the followers of Mortdh.”
For the first time since Annani’s arrival, Emmett turned to look at Kian. “The followers of Mortdh have been actively working against you for thousands of years, and you are worried about my people being your adversaries? They don’t even know that you exist, let alone bother you.”
“Not yet. But they might.”
“Unlikely,” Annani said. “Given their social structure and the scarcity of females, the Kra-ell cannot multiply at the rate the Doomers do, and their numbers will remain insignificant.”
“I agree that number-wise they are not a threat,” Kian said. “But the days of needing brute force to take control of people are over. With today’s technology, a small group of people with compulsion ability and advanced technological knowhow could take over the world.”
Annani nodded and then turned to Emmett. “How advanced were your people?”
“Frankly, they did not strike me as more advanced than humans. We didn’t have any interesting gadgets or weapons. I don’t know that for sure, but I think that they obtained the knowhow needed to start Kumei telecommunications from compelling humans to give it to them.”
Annani looked at Emmett skeptically. “How is it possible that people who traversed the universe to get here have no advanced technology?”
Kian crossed his arms over his chest. “We don’t have the technology or ability to build an interstellar ship either, and yet, our ancestors got here somehow. Being passengers on a ship doesn’t make them engineers. They might have been dropped off on Earth, for whatever reason, and their ship returned home.”
Or was still orbiting the Earth, hidden by a cloaking device, or simply hiding behind the dark side of the moon.
Annani adjusted the folds of her long skirt. “The technology could depend on materials we do not have on Earth. The gods did not build anything technologically advanced either. Whatever they had, they must have brought with them, and the devices slowly deteriorated over time. We only had a few flying machines, and the same was true for the tablets. I remember my Uncle Ekin, who was the only one among the gods I knew with technological knowhow, working on inventive solutions using what was available in the world back then. I guess the Kra-ell were faced with the same difficulty.” She looked at Emmett. “One last question before we part. Please tell us the bank location of your largest offshore account, and recite the number along with your personal access code.”
This time, the compulsion she used was not a gentle caress. It was more like a chokehold, so oppressive that Kian felt the mental pressure even though it hadn’t been directed at him. It was a struggle to pull out his phone and get ready to write down the information Emmett was about to reveal.
Looking as uncomfortable as Kian felt, Emmett did as she commanded, wincing with every letter and number leaving his mouth. When he was done, sweat beaded on his forehead. “You are a powerful compeller, Clan Mother.”
“Indeed.” She smiled apologetically. “Do not worry, no one is going to take your money. This was just a test to make sure that I can compel you.”
As access was granted, Kian whistled. “You have done pretty well for yourself, Emmett. Is that all from running the Safe Haven retreats? Or did some of your community members bestow their inheritances on you?”
“I’m a savvy investor, and I had a long time to do it.”
Kian put his phone back in his pocket. “No doubt by compelling people to give you insider information.”
Emmett shrugged. “Are you going to hold that against me as well?”
“It’s immoral, and it’s a crime, but it’s not a crime against the clan.”
Besides, Kalugal had done the same thing and was probably still doing it, and yet Kian had invited him to join the clan.
Annani pushed to her feet. “It was a very interesting meeting, Emmett. Good day.”
He bowed his head. “Good day, Clan Mother.”
When they were at the door, Annani paused and turned around. “One last thing before I go, Emmett.” She walked closer to him, halting several feet away from the prisoner, and unleashing her godly power on him. “You will never attempt to compel any of my clan members, and you will not do anything to harm them physically or otherwise. You will not attempt to escape, either.”
Once again, Annani’s compulsion felt like a vice around Kian’s throat even though it had been directed at Emmett.
The guy must have felt it tenfold, and yet he took it without averting his eyes or slumping in his seat.
When the power winked out, both Emmett and Kian let out a relieved breath.
Annani smiled sweetly. “Goodbye, Emmett.”
7
Arwel
When the interview ended, Kian motioned for Arwel to follow them outside. “After you move Emmett back to his cell, come to my office. Annani and I will wait for you.”
Arwel arched a brow. “Does it have anything to do with my prisoner?”
“In a way. Finish with Emmett first.” Offering his arm to the goddess, Kian started toward the elevators.
She smiled up at her son. “The last time I visited your old office was under similar circumstances. It was when I came to see Lokan.”
Anandur and Brundar followed behind mother and son, and as the four entered the elevator, Arwel opened the door and walked back into the suite.
Alfie had already unlocked Emmett’s leg shackles, and as he tossed them on the floor, Emmett's eyes followed, his mouth curling with distaste.
“You did well.” Arwel clapped him on the back.
“I didn’t expect the Clan Mother to be so powerful, or so kind, or so beautiful.”
The order of adjectives was telling. Emmett wasn’t as impressed with beauty as he was with power and kindness.
Emmett stretched his arms over his head. “Do you have a book about the history of your clan that I can read?”
After the initial shock and awe of seeing the goddess, the guy had gone back to his usual act of a bored, harmless intellectual.
“We don’t.”
Edna kept records, but they weren’t in story form, and they weren’t accessible even to clan members. If anyone wanted to go through the records, they needed to ask Edna’s permission and give her a reason for the request.
“That’s a shame. I would have liked to learn more about you. Any other books that you can lend me? I’m bored.”
“You can watch television.” Arwel walked Emmett out into his own cell. “Or play video games.”
“I enjoy reading more. I would really appreciate some books.”
“I’ll see what I can do. What do you like to read?”
“Anything that’s well written. Fiction and non-fiction.”
“Did you read Game of Thrones?”
Emmett grimaced. “It was too cruel and bloody for my taste. I read to relax.”
Arwel arched a brow. “A pacifist bloodsucker? That’s a contradiction in terms.”
“I’d rather avoid conflict when I can. I guess I inherited my peaceful nature from my human mother.�
�
Arwel wanted to ask Emmett more about his experience growing up as a hybrid in the Kra-ell compound, but Kian and Annani were waiting for him.
“I need to go. We can talk more when I come back.”
Emmett nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. Our little talks are the highlight of my day.”
Even with his empathic ability, Arwel wasn’t sure whether that was meant as a compliment or as sarcasm. Emmett was a natural actor, and sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference between what was an act and what was real, probably because the lines were as blurred for Emmett as they were for his audience.
The guy was a condescending prick and a know-it-all, but the truth was that Arwel enjoyed their talks as well. Emmett had a good grasp on human nature and on politics, and he’d even read the works of all the major philosophers.
Nevertheless, if Kian had a new assignment for him, Arwel would jump on it. Jin was tired of the dungeon, and so was he.
As the elevator doors opened and Arwel stepped out on the office’s level, he saw Anandur heading his way.
“I’m going up to get coffees from the vending machines. Do you want anything?”
“No thanks.” Arwel grimaced. “Living here, I've had too much of the café’s limited selection already.”
As he walked into Kian’s office, his boss motioned to the chair next to him. “Take a seat, Arwel.”
“How are you enjoying your post here?” Annani asked.
Arwel sat down. “Emmett is not a difficult prisoner, but I’d rather get out of the dungeon.”
She tilted her head. “I thought that you preferred living underground. It filters the human emotions that bother you topside.”
“It does, but living in the village is better. Immortals don’t broadcast their emotions nearly as much as humans, and I’m exposed to humans only when I go out on missions, which is tolerable. My quality of life has improved significantly since we moved out of the keep.”
She smiled indulgently. “I am sure that having a mate has a lot to do with it as well. How is Jin taking all this? Has she met with Emmett?”
“Jin expressed no desire to do so.”
Annani looked surprised. “Is she not curious about her father’s people?”
Arwel shrugged. “She saw Emmett on the surveillance feed, and I told her everything I learned listening to the interrogation and also from talking to him. At first, we were worried about the Kra-ell shorter lifespans and how it might impact Jin and Mey if they are related to them, but since their mother must have been a Dormant, that’s no longer a concern.”
Huffing out an impatient breath, Kian was done waiting out their small talk. “I want you to be in charge of the China team,” Kian said. “Your empathic abilities might be useful on an information-gathering mission.”
Arwel was the right guy for the job, but that was not the kind of mission he’d been hoping for. Leaving Jin behind would be tough. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to be gone for more than a few days.
“Who else is going?”
“Turner is supplying a human team that is familiar with the local culture and knows the language. I want you to work with them, and you can take as many Guardians as you deem necessary. But since this is a reconnaissance mission, less is probably better.”
“How long do we need to plan to be there?”
“A couple of weeks.” Noting Arwel’s barely stifled grimace, Kian tapped his fingers on the table. “What do you think about taking Jin with you?”
“As my companion or as a spy?”
“Both.”
Arwel shook his head. “She doesn’t want to use her ability for spying.”
“I know, but the results of this investigation have direct implications for her and Mey. Aren’t they curious about their biological parents?”
“The father or fathers who discarded them as if they were garbage? I don’t think so. They consider the Levins their parents and rightfully so.”
“I get it about the biological father or fathers, but the mother didn’t have a choice. She was forced to give them up. If she’s still alive, and we don’t have a reason to think that she’s not, she would be overjoyed to see how well her daughters have turned out.”
“I can ask Jin.”
Kian nodded. “Good. I want you to hire a tutor to teach you and your chosen Guardians Mandarin. It will be faster than learning from an audio course.”
Arwel pulled out his earpieces. “We can use these to translate what is said to us, but it would be beneficial to be able to speak it. Do we have anyone in the village who speaks it fluently?”
“Stella does,” Annani said. “But I do not know if she is fluent. You might want to check with Morris. When he is not flying the clan’s jet, he translates flight manuals into different languages. Perhaps one of them is Mandarin.”
Arwel chuckled. “We should include Carol in the class. Isn’t she supposed to accompany Lokan to China?”
“She won’t come back for that,” Kian said. “She’s staying in a hotel in Washington until Lokan is ready to leave. She refuses to be apart from him.”
“Can’t blame her.” Anandur walked in with two cardboard trays filled with paper coffee cups. “She and Lokan can use a Rosetta Stone to learn.” He started distributing the drinks. “And so can Arwel and his team.”
Arwel shook his head. “Unlike other immortals, Jin is not good with languages. It’s probably because she transitioned as an adult. It would appear that the ear for languages develops at a young age. If she agrees to join me on the mission, she’ll need a one-on-one tutor.”
8
Onegus
“Is that the tux?” Connor’s eyes lit up as Onegus walked in with the garment bag slung over his shoulder.
The tux had been ordered a month ago with input from his roommate, who considered himself a fashionista and would no doubt want to examine the finished product.
“It is.” Onegus sniffed at the aromas coming from the kitchen. “What’s cooking? I don’t recognize the smell.”
Connor was gracious enough to cook for both of them, but his repertoire consisted of six recipes that he cycled throughout the week. Not that Onegus was complaining. If not for Connor, he would have been subsisting on sandwiches and pastries from the café.
As the chief, Onegus was entitled to a house all to himself, but he preferred to share it, just not with one of the Guardians. His position created a natural distance between him and those he was in charge of, and cohabiting with one of them would have been awkward.
Connor had been a good choice. He was a composer and worked from home, while Onegus spent most of his waking hours in his office or traveling as Kian’s representative.
“I’m trying one of Callie’s recipes,” Connor said. “She posted it on the clan’s website last weekend.”
“Then I’m sure it’s delicious.” Onegus headed to his room.
“I want to see you in the tux,” Connor called after him.
“You’ll see it tomorrow.”
“I need to get one for myself, and I want to check the craftsmanship.”
Onegus stopped and turned around. “What’s the occasion?”
Connor was an excellent score composer, but he hadn’t gotten nominated for an Emmy or an Oscar yet.
“It’s not a nomination, if that’s what you were thinking. Regrettably.” Connor sighed. “I've been invited to speak at an event.” He cast Onegus an accusing sidelong glance.
Was he offended that Onegus hadn’t invited him to be his pretend date?
He’d jokingly asked Brandon and had made the mistake of telling Connor about it.
“Fine. I will try it on for you.” Onegus ducked into the bedroom.
When he emerged a few minutes later, Connor whistled. “That’s one hell of a well-tailored tux. You look dashing.” He chuckled. “Good luck with the gold-diggers.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo, and I've refined the technique of brushing them off politely.”<
br />
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“I pretend not to notice that they are flirting with me. I just smile and keep talking about how important the charity is and how much the contributions collected at these events help us rehabilitate more rescued trafficking victims. Eventually, they get bored with me and move on to the next eligible bachelor.”
“What do you do when they just flat out proposition you? You can’t pretend not to get it.”
“You’d be surprised. I tell them how flattered I am but that I have so much work and can’t possibly make time for pleasure.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. He worked insanely long hours.
Amusement dancing in his eyes, Connor cast him a pretend stern look. “Tell me the truth, Onegus. When they get really pesky, aren’t you tempted to push them away with just a smidgen of a thrall?”
“Tempted, yes. Do I do that? No. I’m the chief. If I break the law or even bend it a little, how can I demand compliance from you civilians?”
Connor smiled. “Come on. No one would know. It’s not like a little thrall can do much harm.”
“I would know.” Onegus ran his fingers through his short hair. “I need to get a haircut.”
“Don’t. It’s short enough. Just gel it. If you want, I can do that for you.”
“Thanks. It will save me a trip to the barber.”
The look of disdain on Connor’s face was comical. “A barber? That’s who cuts your hair? No wonder it’s a mess.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything. You need a stylist, not a damn barber.”
“Well, since I don’t have one, the job is yours.”
9
Cassandra
“Cassy? Are you home?” her mother called from downstairs.
“I’ll be down in a moment.” Cassandra unzipped the garment bag, pulled out the dress she’d bought, and laid it on the bed.
At first glance, it might not have looked like much to the untrained eye, which was probably why she’d gotten it at a bargain price, but Cassandra had known it was the one the moment she’d laid eyes on it. And when she tried it on, it looked as though it had been custom-made for her.