THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series

by Shana Congrove

  As she swung her feet to the floor and stood, a flash of dizziness came out of nowhere, blurring her vision. Before she lost her balance, she plopped back down on the bed. Lowering her head and exhaling a deep breath seemed to help a little. After a moment, her head cleared and she got back to her feet. Moving toward the bathroom, she slipped out of her nightgown and opened the shower door. Switching the faucet on, she waited until the water built up a warm steam.

  When she stepped in, the baby moved as though he was trying to find a better position inside such a small space. She looked at her belly and smiled. Smoothing her hand over the precious life nestled in her womb, she vowed with everything she had that her child would grow up with love no matter the circumstances. Already she loved her son so much.

  The shower she took was heaven. Her body relaxed under the warm and penetrating spray. Hanging her head, she let the rush of soothing water run down the back of her neck.

  By the time she got out, she felt more at ease with her thoughts. That quickly changed when she looked across the room at the reflection staring back at her in the full-length mirror.

  Yelena put her hands on her belly and sighed. Under her palms, her stomach was rounded, the protrusion such that it was obvious she was in her third trimester. Since she was born a full-blooded succubus, the fetus developed faster than any other species. Instead of carrying the baby for nine months, Yelena had less than two months until the baby was full-term.

  As she reached out to grab a towel that was hanging on the rack next to the shower, the ring Apollyon had given her slipped off her finger.

  Yelena looked down and watched as it bounced on the tile floor. After she wrapped the towel around herself, she carefully stepped out of the shower and bent down to pick the silver band up. Please come back to me, Apollyon, she thought, admiring the symbol on the signet ring. I need you, and your son needs you.

  “Yelena,” a familiar, dominating voice said.

  The second she heard that voice, her head shot up. Yelena looked stunned. On some level, she thought it had to be a dream, or maybe her imagination was playing tricks on her. Yet, as she rose on shaky legs, her brain could not deny what her eyes were telling her. She was shaking so badly she reached for the shower door to keep from dropping to her knees.

  Yelena looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Apollyon?” she said with wonder.

  He stood in the open doorway and held out his arms to her. “I’m right here my beloved.”

  With her eyes locked onto his golden gaze, she muttered, “Is it really you?”

  Apollyon snapped into action and went forward. Gathering her gently in his arms, he lifted her from the floor and murmured into her ear, “Yes, my Yelena.”

  Her heart leaped inside her chest. “Oh, Apollyon,” she sniffled, resting her head against his chest. “Thank God you’re back.”

  Yelena’s towel opened down the middle when he laid her on top of the bed. He could tell by the shape of her belly that she was with child. His eyes rounded in disbelief. How was this possible?

  His eyebrow went up and he studied her for a moment. “Are you?” He fell silent, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  There was a long pause, and then Yelena reluctantly said, “You’re going to be a father soon.”

  Apollyon looked a little gobsmacked. His mouth opened as though he was about to say something, but instead he reached out and smoothed his hand over the swell of her belly. Then his gaze met hers, and she seemed surprised by the tenderness in his eyes. He took her hand and squeezed it.

  “A father?” he finally said.

  Her thumb stroked back and forth over his palm. “It’s a boy,” she said in a small voice.

  Apollyon put his hand over his heart as if struck by something. A son? They were having a son.

  He shook himself back to awareness and blurted, “A son...”

  Yelena nodded with a peaceful smile, picturing their son, big and tall, strong as his father.

  “Your son will need his father.”

  Her statement seemed more like a question, wondering what fate had in store for their future.

  That’s when Apollyon teared up, the droplets falling off his hard jaw onto the place that held the tiny life inside of his beloved. He was prepared to fight with the battle angels to destroy the creature, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of the woman he loved carrying his child.

  In response, he lifted her off the bed and cradled her protectively against his chest. “I promise,” he whispered close to her ear, “I will be here for you, and our child.”

  Yelena closed her eyes and inhaled his comforting scent. Tears leaked down her cheeks, absorbed by his shirt.

  Apollyon stroked her hair with one hand and held her tightly with the other.

  “But how is that possible?” She whispered into his embrace. “What about the battle angels? Don’t you have to face some kind of punishment?”

  As he slowly lowered her back down, he leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. “The Creator...” he paused as though he was fighting back more tears, “has given me and my sisters a second chance. If we help the battle angels destroy an age-old creature, and dedicate our lives to serving and protecting others, we will be allowed to stay on earth.”

  Her brows furrowed, and Apollyon could see the conflict so readily apparent on her face. “I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “What about your lust for human blood?”

  “It’s gone, my beloved.” His eyes softened as he spoke, and Yelena relaxed a little. “The Creator released us from our hunger. I’m finally free.”

  Hope and excitement welled in her chest, and ridiculously, Yelena felt like crying all over again. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  Yelena reached up to his face. “We’re a family,” she whispered, wiping his tears away.

  Apollyon started to smile, and then he found her mouth, kissing her. He held her even closer, next to his beating heart, which now belonged to her. Yelena made him feel alive in a way he had never been in his entire existence. Somehow, he would find a way to keep his promise. Not only was he never letting go of his son, he wasn’t letting go of Yelena either.

  “Forever,” he murmured against her lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jena hadn’t been the least bit afraid since Angie brought her to the Breedline Covenant. She felt relaxed and self-confident in a way she hadn’t felt since the creature had taunted her sanity in the hospital... until now. After the Covenant told her about Tara’s attack, things took a turn for the worse. It was obvious the monster who had bitten and cursed Jena had knowledge of her whereabouts.

  He wanted her, and she realized there was nothing she, or anyone else for that matter, could do to stop him. Other than feeding on human blood, the creature had a one-track mind. And it was her.

  Lying awake in her bed, for the first time in her life, Jena felt utterly helpless and alone—more alone than she had ever been, and more unsure about the future. A sense of sadness consumed her until tears formed in her eyes.

  Then a wave of sickness came over her. Jena thought of the slaughtered bodies of Todd and Sophie. Her thoughts then went to Carla Rosi’s corpse. The poor girl had been missing for over forty years. Carla’s spirit had been the one who warned her about the Rougarou curse. Jena didn’t want to become that thing... a savage creature that preyed on innocent people. Maybe she could resist her newly found urges and beat this dreadful curse, although she still had more days than she could bear. The thirst for human blood was already burning in her veins.

  Suddenly, she felt warm all over, and restless. She heard the low hum of the refrigerator coming from downstairs and the pitter-patter of the raindrops falling down on the rooftop. She could hear the hushed voices in the other rooms as though they were speaking directly to her. How is this possible? Is all this just my imagination?

  Something startled her. It wasn’t a sound exactly but something she couldn’t quite make out. It was comi
ng from the balcony outside of her room.

  Her curiosity got the best of her. She got up and quietly crept over to the sliding glass door. When she opened it, the night air was gusty and moist. The light rain that struck her face and clung to her thin nightgown was soothing to her skin. As Jena moved forward, her acute sense of hearing astounded her. It was so sensitive, and powerful... and enlightening.

  All the sounds of the night were sharpened: the chorus of noises rising around her mingled with the whistling sounds of trees blowing in the wind, the harmonic vibrations of flying insects, and footsteps of nocturnal animals foraging through the grounds far in the distance. In fact, she was picking up all kinds of scents too. Jena could smell the rain and all the scents of the outdoors the way she had never smelled them before.

  So, she thought, I’m going to be like this from now on. I’m going to pick up scents like a dog, and sounds, too, no doubt.

  That’s when she heard a voice whispering to her. “Come, Jena... come to me.” This was an alluring, hypnotizing voice.

  Jena peered over the balcony and searched for the voice calling out to her.

  He stood back in the darkness invisible to the human eye, watching her... desiring her... ready to take her. Jena was tall for a female, her legs long as a gazelle’s. Her blonde hair hung in thick waves, falling to the small of her back. Her flawless skin was pale cream, and she had a mouth just made for his lips. The silk nightgown she wore was delicate and clung to her small waist, firm hips, and perfectly proportioned breasts. The fabric had dampened in the fine mist, meshing to her skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  His heart was pounding. The desire for Jena was as strong and uncontrollable as the desire to kill or the craving to feast on human blood. He wanted her, wanted to rip the silk material off her and get her underneath him.

  “You belong to me,” he murmured into her thoughts.

  Jena panicked at the voice in her head but found she could not move.

  From behind, something smoothed her hair back, revealing the pale skin of her neck.

  In reaction, goosebumps trailed down her skin. Suddenly, there was the strangest scent in the air—something rich and heady.

  Then she felt something warm tease her bare skin as if someone was breathing down her shoulder.

  She gasped at the wonderful sensation and whirled around.

  Unexpectedly, he appeared before her like a ghostly apparition suddenly becoming corporeal. The element of surprise froze Jena in her tracks.

  His eyes roamed over her long, delicate neckline, and beyond to the swell of her breasts. He dragged air into his lungs and briefly closed his eyes, feeling a sexual stirring in his gut. Her scent was seductive and addictive, reminding him of the sweetest fragrance of night-blooming roses. It reminded him of someone else, a scent from the past.

  As he boldly reached out to her, a rush of desire hit her hard. It was the curse, she thought numbly. Whatever he had done to her, it was unstoppable.

  Curious to touch him, Jena shockingly went to him freely. As his chest expanded, she knew he caught the scent of her arousal.

  He trailed his finger from Jena’s jaw to her throat, to the point at her collarbone where her pulse beat. “I ache for you, Jena,” he said, the words sliding off his tongue like silk.

  Jena swayed, hypnotized by the luring sound of his voice and his soft touch. How easy he made it to fall under his spell.

  She was past all self-control. As he laid kisses on her neck and on her breasts, her body began to writhe with a burning desire. It was rather like stoking a fire until it became a blaze.

  “Why do you continue to taunt me?” she moaned, her head tossing back. “Please... free me of this curse.”

  When he placed his open mouth to the skin of Jena’s throat, covering the throbbing blue artery, he appeared to kiss her. As he drew back, however, his lips were bloody.

  Her eyes widened for a moment. She felt paralyzed, staring into his golden gaze for what seemed to last for an extended time. Jena studied the mysterious stranger, not fearfully, but in fascination.

  He was handsomely beautiful in a decadent old blue-blooded, aristocrat fashion. His jaw was masculine and his lips full. His hair was jet-black, falling to his broad shoulders from a widow’s peak. The piercing color of his eyes beamed like scarlet coals.

  Although she knew he was a savage killer, something told her he wasn’t here to do her harm. Jena felt powerfully drawn to the stranger, bound to him by some unnatural force, that she wanted him with an intensity she could not explain. Denying him now was unthinkable.

  He reached out with his pale hand and took hers. “Come with me.” He spoke with a sliver of the South.

  Jena begged her body not to obey, but regretfully it betrayed her. She went with him freely as he guided her through the opening of the sliding door and into her bedroom.

  As they stood next to the bed, she was shaking all over. He tentatively brushed her hair back from her face, and then ever so gently, lifted the damp nightgown over her head.

  His eyes raked over her body approvingly. Jena was so beautiful, he thought, with the dim light of the lamp falling on the soft lines of her face. Her nipples stood rigid in tiny rosebud points. Her nakedness and vulnerability maddened him. Then his eyes locked onto her mouth. Her lips looked as soft as rose petals.

  Shivers went through her when he reached out and cupped her cheek. His touch was frigid and cold.

  He slid his tongue over his upper lip. “I’m going to kiss you, Jena.” There was a razor-sharp edge beneath his soft-spoken words.

  Overwhelmed by his determination, she took a step back. He followed. She retreated until the back of her calves came against the edge of the bed, and then he bumped into her.

  Jena raised her hands in defense, fully intent on shoving him back. When they came up against his chest, she stood still, anticipating his next move.

  He leaned down and wooed her with his mouth before his tongue gained entrance. He felt her flinch, although she did not turn away. His tongue savored hers as if she was something decadent and delicious.

  This was ridiculous, Jena thought. She should be furious with him. He’d murdered her loved ones and left her with a curse. Now, they were kissing. When she tasted her own blood, it ignited a flame inside her. Her breathing started to quicken.

  Jena clutched her chest. The pain was so intense she nearly fell to her knees. It was as though her heart was suddenly pierced and divided in half with a burning blade. Then, just as quickly as it had struck, the agony was gone, leaving her breathless and dizzy.

  Working her like a puppet attached to his own set of strings, he gently eased her down on the bed.

  After a moment, he curled his lip off his front teeth. His white fangs were sharp and fine at the points, like needles. As Jena breathed in deep, she recognized the mix of heady scents from earlier.

  “Please,” she said on a shaky breath, shame constricting her voice.

  Lost in her sensual gaze, he could not fight his needs any longer. His desire rose, surprising him in its burning ferocity. It was a feeling he remembered from a long, long time ago.

  An all-powerful need to mark her lit him up. Lifting his shirt over his head, he wrenched the thing off and shrugged out of his pants.

  He lowered himself on top of her, but lightly, not letting his weight hurt her. When her breasts hit the wall of his chest, her body surged under his. As he shifted in between her legs, Jena absorbed his weight with a light moan.

  He looked down at her, wondering if she would give in to his curse, and join him for eternity.

  Suddenly, he felt her hands on his shoulders, pulling at them as though she was begging to feel his lips against hers.

  He leaned closer and kissed her again, feeling his fangs pressing against her. He ravished Jena with kisses all over, on her lips and her breasts and her belly, and on the insides of her silky, warm thighs.

  She nearly sobbed, so aroused her legs started to shake.


  While lavishing her body with attention, Jena let out a breathless gasp that brought his head up just so he could look at her beautiful face.

  With her eyes closed, and her lips slightly parted, her body clenched. In the midst of her climax, she shuddered in silence, fighting the urge to cry out. Before her pulses faded, he rose above her, and entered in a single thrust, sliding in deep. With no pause whatsoever, he started to move in a rhythm that nearly made her lose it all over again. It was like nothing she had ever experienced.

  His mouth broke open as he found his own release. As he climaxed, he stared at her neck, resisting the temptation to bite her... to taste her blood once again.

  When he finally pulled from the warmth of her body, he shifted on his side. He wanted desperately to take her again, but he did not want to press. He’d managed to lure Jena in this far, and soon she would be at his side forever. Instead, he asked, “Will you welcome me again?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, staring up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. It was as though her body was present but her mind was miles away.

  Jena finally turned to him, her eyes full of questions. “Please, tell me. What is your name?”

  He lifted her hand and kissed it. “My name no longer matters,” he answered. “It’s only a faded memory of the man I used to be.”

  Jena placed her hands to his face, staring at him with tears in her eyes. “Then I will call you...” She briefly paused, exhaling her breath. “...my beloved.”

  He smiled to himself. At that moment, he knew without a doubt she was his.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Wound tighter than a rusted spring, there was no give in Angie’s determination to relieve some of that tension. Earlier, when she got a look at the newcomer in the Covenant that everyone referred to as Bull—she wondered how he managed that nickname—she had only one thing on her mind. It was to get Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome naked and in her bed.

  The big lovey-dovey fest that had gone on at the table during breakfast this morning, complete with enough kissy-face and handholding and baby talk to make her green with envy, hadn’t helped. It seemed that everyone in the Covenant—minus her and Jena—had found their soulmate.