Dark Haven Illusion (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Book 47)

by I. T. Lucas

“I know, but still. I like a good mystery, and I appreciate a devious mind. Provided that he’s not involved in trafficking or other shit like that, I find the guy admirable. Just think about the money he’s making here, and it’s all tax-free because the retreat is a nonprofit organization. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “You are going to in less than half an hour.”

  As they entered the common room, Eleanor wasn’t there. A group of four guys were sitting around one of the fireplaces, but none of the women had made it there yet.

  “Do you want to wait for Eleanor?” Peter asked.

  “What for? We didn’t make plans to meet here. We will see her at dinner. Let’s find the kitchen.”

  Following their noses, they found the place easily. It was bustling with activity, with eight people working the various stations, but none of them was Anastasia.

  “Can I help you?” A plump middle-aged woman smiled at them. “Are you lost, boys?”

  Peter dipped his head. “No, ma’am. My friend wanted to see the kitchen and make sure that it’s clean. He has a thing about cleanliness.”

  “My kind of guy.” The woman gave Leon an unabashed once-over. “Emmett runs a tight ship. God help us if he finds a speck of dust anywhere.” She rolled her eyes.

  Leon arched a brow. “What happens if he does?”

  “Nothing good, my friend.” She put a hand on his arm. “I’m Linda.”

  Was she flirting with him?

  It certainly seemed so.

  “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you, Linda.”

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” She gave Peter a sultry look. “And what’s your name, handsome?”

  “Devlin.”

  She giggled. “How appropriate. You look absolutely devilish.”

  Leon stifled a smile. Peter was dark-haired and olive-skinned, and his mustache and goatee added to the bad-boy vibe, which was a total lie. The guy had a heart of gold.

  “I’ll see you after dinner, boys.” She winked and sashayed back to her station.

  “Someone has the hots for you,” Peter said once they were out in the corridor.

  “I have a feeling that Linda has the hots for every pair of pants that passes through here. It's a shame she wasn’t alone, though. I could have asked her about Anastasia.”

  “We will find her tomorrow. I feel bad about getting Linda in trouble, but I think that both of us will wake up with stomachaches and will have to visit the bathrooms quite often.” He laughed. “I’ve never played hooky when I was in school. I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “We will probably get sent to the nurse’s office.”

  “Not a problem. I like the nurse. She has one hell of an ass on her.” Peter spread his arms to demonstrate. “I forgot to ask Henry about fraternizing with the staff, but given how Linda came on to us, it seems that they are fair game.”

  “Remember that you need to get an invitation. You can’t initiate.”

  Peter arched a brow. “Do you doubt that I would?”

  “Nope. What I’m worried about is getting unwanted invitations. I would hate to turn them down.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “Should I remind you that we are not on vacation?”

  “Hey, hooking up is part of this job.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  12

  Eleanor

  Eleanor watched the entrance to the dining hall, waiting for the two Guardians to show up. The place was filling up quickly, and if they didn’t make it there soon, someone was going to take the seats she was trying to save for them by putting the napkins on the chairs.

  When they finally walked in, she stifled the impulse to wave them over and just looked pointedly in their direction. They weren’t supposed to know each other, but since everyone was checking out everyone else, looking at two handsome men wouldn’t seem suspicious.

  Leon spotted her right away, and the two made their way to her table.

  “Are those chairs taken?” Leon asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Mind if we sit with you?”

  “Not at all.” She cast him an inviting smile.

  “Thanks.” He pulled out a chair, sat down, and offered her his hand. “My name is Sam.”

  “I know. It says so on your name tag.” She pointed to her own. “I’m Marisol.”

  “And I’m Devlin.” Peter sat on her other side and offered her his hand as well.

  For the next few minutes, they chatted loudly, telling each other their fake stories about where they were from and what they did for a living. Others joined their table and introductions were made.

  It seemed that she would have to wait until people went to pick up food from the buffet before she could ask the guys what they’d found out so far. And if that didn’t work, she would have to invite them to her room under the pretense of connecting.

  Gregory wouldn’t be happy about her having the two Guardians in her room, and even though it was silly, it made her feel guilty. She wouldn’t have liked it at all if he had done the same with two immortal women he was not related to.

  Come to think of it, leaving him alone in a village full of attractive immortal females was like trusting a dog not to touch a bunch of treats that were left out in the open, free for the taking.

  “What’s the matter?” Peter asked. “You look like you’ve just sucked on a lemon.”

  He was being kind. She probably looked like a deranged ax-murderer.

  “I thought about the partner who I left back home.” She lowered her voice. “I hope he’s behaving himself.”

  Peter put a hand on her shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “If not, we will beat the jerk up for you.”

  “Thank you, but I can do that myself.”

  Leon leaned closer. “Would you stop that? Focus on the task at hand.”

  Dragging in a calming breath, she nodded. “I’m starting to understand what they are saying here about possessiveness. It’s the ugly sister of love.”

  When it suddenly turned quiet around their table, Eleanor thought that it was because the others had overheard her comment, but since they were not looking at her, she followed their gazes to the front of the dining hall where the buffet was set up.

  There was no mistaking the identity of the man standing with his back to the buffet table and facing the dining hall.

  Emmett Haderech looked precisely like his picture on the retreat’s website. She’d thought that the picture had been photoshopped, but it hadn’t been. Wearing an ankle-length white gown and sporting a dark beard that reached down to his chest, he looked like an actor playing Moses or Jesus. His shoulder-length hair was parted in the middle, with the ends curling up so perfectly that it must have been styled to look like that.

  In fact, Eleanor suspected that he was wearing a wig. A guy his age should have thinning hair and at least some gray at the temples, but Emmett’s hair was thick, lustrous, and nearly black.

  He appeared ageless, which was no doubt the goal and had taken a lot of effort.

  With the loose gown he was wearing, it was hard to tell what his body looked like, but he wasn’t overweight or underweight, his posture was that of an athlete, and he held himself with confidence bordering on arrogance.

  He lifted his arms in the same way Annani did when she was addressing her clan. “Welcome to Safe Haven, where science and mysticism combine to prove that the universe is mindful.” His voice had a melodic quality to it. “By making this pilgrimage, you’ve made the first step in an incredible journey of self-discovery. You will learn to merge your consciousness with that of the universe, and the knowledge you’ll attain will guide you toward becoming the best possible version of yourself. But you won’t be doing this alone. Our highly-skilled and devoted counselors are going to hold your hand throughout this journey, making sure that you do not stumble and that you do not fall. Each individual’s path to enlightenment is different, and each person’s struggle is unique, but the whole is stronger than the sum
of its parts and united you will soar to heights you would have never been able to reach on your own.”

  Wow. What a masterful way of saying absolutely nothing but sounding like he had personally communed with God.

  Casting a glance at the people sitting at her table, she was surprised to see that even Peter and Leon seemed impressed. Hopefully for the same reason she was, and not because Emmett’s speech had resonated with them.

  Everyone else looked enthralled, and she wondered whether he had used compulsion, or was it the effect of the total package of the fabulous theatrical performance.

  If only she could think of a way to find out for sure.

  Provided that Emmett agreed to see her, she could try to goad him into using compulsion on her, but that wouldn’t be proof either. The guy was probably used to everyone obeying him without question, so if he acted surprised when she didn’t, that wouldn’t mean that he used compulsion.

  The best test would be for her to try to compel him to do something he absolutely didn’t want to, like take off his wig, and if that didn’t work, it would mean that he was an immune and likely a compeller himself.

  13

  Leon

  “I’m so sorry. Is this your room?” The young man in a white staff uniform clutched the duster with both hands as if he’d been caught red-handed stealing a sacred artifact.

  Leon pretended to look around. “I thought it was, but it’s not. I can’t remember my room number.” Wincing, he put a hand on his stomach. “I would stay and chat, but I’m afraid nature calls.” He beat feet out of there before the guy had a chance to respond.

  So far, Peter’s idea to feign an upset stomach had worked like a charm, and Leon added a twist claiming that he could only go in his own bathroom, which would explain what he was doing in the residential area of the lodge.

  Pretending not to remember his room number, though, was stretching the suspension of disbelief. Hopefully, the staff member he’d encountered would attribute his confusion to his stomach problem, and if not, he could make up some other random disorder that he was afflicted with and hadn’t fessed up to in the initial interview. Problem was that Leon knew next to nothing about human diseases.

  He should have asked Eleanor last night when the three of them had gone to her room and pretended to get it on.

  Poor Eleanor had been red like a beet, but she’d done her part, moaning against the wall and calling out their fake names. He and Peter, on the other hand, had a blast making fake sounds of passion, and their only problem with that was keeping down the laughter.

  Leon stopped next to another door, but no sounds were coming from the inside, and the same went for the next four. His room was two doors down, and he wondered what were the chances that he would find Anastasia there.

  Not likely, but even if he did, he still wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the encounter. Should he get straight down to business, thrall her, and find out why she had joined the cult?

  After meeting Emmett, the answer was pretty obvious, but perhaps not the one they had expected. Eleanor couldn’t tell whether the cult leader was a compeller just from hearing him deliver his speech, but Leon had a feeling that the guy didn’t need to use compulsion to attract followers.

  Emmett Haderech was one hell of an impressive actor, and he promised them the moon.

  One had to possess a strongly skeptical mind to resist the guy’s pull, and that certainly wasn’t characteristic of the people who paid a large sum of money for the retreat, believing that it would change their lives.

  Passing by his room, Leon listened at the door but heard nothing from the other side, so he continued down the corridor, until he heard a vacuum cleaner roar to life from behind one of the doors.

  Just like he had done the previous times, he entered the room as if it was his.

  The maid hadn’t heard him come in, and since she had her back to the door, she didn’t see him either, which allowed him to admire her lovely backside.

  Like the other staff members, she wore a uniform made of white pants with a light blue stripe on each side and a white shirt with a blue collar. But somehow, she made the shapeless outfit look good, at least from behind. The pants were cinched around her small waist with a blue belt, and her shapely ass flared out nicely, stretching the white fabric to its capacity.

  Could she be the one he was looking for?

  It was hard to tell from the back, especially since he had only seen Anastasia’s portrait pictures and had no idea how tall she was or the shape of her body. The woman’s hair was gathered in a tight bun, but the few flyaway strands were reddish dark blond, which was the right hair color.

  Not that it was unique in any way, and it could have come out of a box. Come to think of it, Anastasia’s hair could have been colored as well, and she might have changed it since those photos had been taken.

  He had to see her face, but he didn’t want to startle her, so he waited patiently until she turned the vacuum off and turned around.

  Her eyes widened, and as she gasped, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Why didn’t you say something?”

  Her hand was still over her mouth, but in the split second between the gasp and the hand over mouth cover, he’d gotten a glimpse of her lips. He remembered those well from the pictures. Anastasia’s lips were the stuff men’s dreams were made of.

  “I didn’t want to startle you.”

  She dropped her hand and leaned to pick up the vacuum’s electrical cord. “Well, you did. Would you mind waiting outside while I finish cleaning your room?”

  “This is not my room.”

  She straightened and cast him a glance with an arched brow. “So what are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for you.”

  14

  Anastasia

  He was looking for her? Why?

  Had someone sent him from the office because there had been an emergency at home?

  Anastasia’s heart squeezed painfully. “Did something happen to my father?”

  They didn’t get along, and her father could barely stand her, but he and her half-siblings were all the family she had left in the world.

  The guy frowned. “Why would that be the first thing to come to your mind?”

  Because it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would a hot guy like him seek her out?

  She wasn’t beautiful, and she wasn’t fashionably thin. With the right clothes, and with her hair styled and some makeup on, she could look pretty good, but she was working, so there was none of that, and the retreat’s uniform did nothing for her short, plump body.

  Her hourglass shape might have been the ideal of beauty in the Renaissance, but when so much butt and boobs were squeezed into a five-foot three-inch frame, it was difficult to make it look good without the help of high heels and flattering designer clothes.

  She’d been there, done that, had gotten tired of it all.

  Even when she’d still given a damn and had made an effort, Ana hadn’t attracted much male attention, and guys like the one frowning at her now had never spared her another glance.

  “I thought that the office sent you with a message.”

  “I have a message for you, but not from the office.” He looked into her eyes. “Come to my room, and I’ll tell you what it is.”

  Should she feel flattered by his invitation? Or threatened?

  Male guests were supposed to wait to be invited, but it was only the second day, so he might have forgotten and fallen back on old habits.

  In the outside world, she would have been offended, but things were different in the one Emmett had created in Safe Haven. In a way, it was liberating to forgo the games and the pretense, and she wished she could be like the others and just let herself live in the moment and enjoy the free love everyone was sharing.

  But she wasn’t ready for that yet.

  “Thank you for the offer, but you’ll have to pick someone else. And you should also wait for
an invitation instead of issuing one. Those are the rules.”

  He looked confused, probably because he hadn’t expected her to refuse. “It wasn’t a come-on line. I really have a message for you, and I’d rather deliver it in private.”

  She forced a smile. “It’s only your second day in the retreat, so you still think that you need to trick women into having sex with you. All you have to do is smile and let them know that you are interested. Most would be thrilled to invite you.”

  He cocked a brow. “But not you. Why is that? Am I not your type?”

  Right, as if there was a woman on the planet that would say that about him. He was well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and his face was handsome enough to be on the cover of a magazine.

  Anastasia snorted. “You are every woman’s type. I’m just not ready to take part in Safe Haven’s free-love culture yet. I have issues I need to work out first.”

  That usually shut guys up, and no one ever asked her what those issues were. They just walked away, either because they didn’t want to deal with her crap, or because they thought she wasn’t worth the trouble.

  The guy shook his head. “Let’s start this over. My name is Sam.” He offered her his hand.

  She really didn’t want to shake it.

  He was way too hot, and she was doing everything in her power to keep her cool and pretend that she didn’t find him incredibly attractive. If she took his hand, she was going to blush like a stupid teenager.

  “Ana.” She looked away as she extended her hand.

  Just as she’d expected, the moment he clasped it, a bolt of electricity rushed through her, hitting every erogenous zone in her body and igniting all the small blood vessels in her face.

  She was probably red like a damn tomato.

  Pulling her hand away, she turned around, lifted the vacuum, and clutched it to her chest as if it was a life vest. “Excuse me, but I have work to do.”

  “Anastasia,” he said her full name. “Please, look at me.”