DARK GUARDIAN CRAVED (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Series Book 12)

by I. T. Lucas

  “You mean on me.”

  “To start with. But then he would’ve come after your accomplice, me.”

  Syssi chuckled. “True. Now that you know it’s safe you can come over.”

  “I thought you wanted me there in half an hour.”

  “Changed my mind. We can have a cappuccino while Kian is surfing the net.”

  “Fabulous. I’m on my way.”

  She and Amanda were on their second cappuccino when Kian came back, his laptop tucked under his arm. “I found a documentary about a western anthropologist who tried Ayahuasca. I thought we should watch it.”

  Amanda waved a dismissive hand. “Comparing shrooms to Ayahuasca is like comparing a regular bell pepper to the Red Sabina Habanero.”

  “What’s that?”

  “One of the world’s hottest peppers. There are hotter ones, but the others were bred to be like that. This one is nature’s child.”

  Syssi shook her head. “The things you store in that head of yours.”

  Amanda lifted her chin. “What can I say? Curious minds want to know. Now dig into that plastic bag and take out a small shroom. We can watch the documentary while we wait for it to kick in.”

  Syssi took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do it.” She pulled out the smallest piece and put it in her mouth. The taste wasn’t as horrible as she expected. In fact, the dried mushroom was pretty tasteless. And chewy.

  Syssi swallowed the last of it. “That wasn’t so bad. How soon should it start working?”

  “Half an hour tops,” Amanda said.

  His expression disapproving, Kian voiced no further remarks. He put the laptop on the coffee table and started the documentary.

  As she watched, Syssi became convinced of two things. The first was that she was never going to try Ayahuasca because no visions were worth the terrible side effects of intense vomiting and diarrhea. The second was that the shrooms had no effect on her.

  “How do you feel?’ Kian asked for the fifth time.

  “Nothing. They didn’t work.”

  Amanda frowned. “Maybe the shrooms are fake.”

  “It’s a reputable site. Carol recommended it. She said she orders from them all the time.”

  Kian looked relieved. “You tried, it didn’t work, case closed.”

  Syssi shook her head. “I ate too little. I should eat more.” She reached for the bag.

  Kian stayed her hand. “Not tonight. If you insist, we can try again in a few days after this dose is out of your system. This needs to be done scientifically.” He pinned Amanda with a hard stare. “Does it say the net weight on the packaging?”

  Syssi pulled out a piece of paper from the brown envelope and read through it. “Yeah. Fifty-seven grams.”

  “I’m going to weigh what’s left and make a note of the difference.”

  “We kind of went willy-nilly about it. Shame on us,” Amanda admitted.

  Syssi hadn’t thought about the experiment in scientific terms. Carol claimed that each person was different and there was no way to tell how much would be needed or how strong the effects would be. She’d advised caution—starting with a small amount and not doing it alone. Syssi had followed the advice to the letter. But if it helped Kian to worry less, then so be it. Let him do the weighing and the notating.

  Next time she was going to double the dose.

  Chapter 31: Robert

  “We have a schedule,” said Charles, who preferred to be called Charlie. “When it was just me and Ed we took turns. One day I cooked dinner and one day he did. Now that you’re here, we each get to cook twice a week. Sunday is off. We eat out.”

  “Works for me.”

  “Can you start tomorrow?”

  “Sure. But you guys need to do the grocery shopping. I can pay my share, but I can’t go out to the supermarket. I’m not allowed out of the keep.”

  “That sucks, man.” Ed patted him on the back.

  The guys were nice, treating him as if he was just another clan member and not an enemy they were wary of. Maybe it was because they were so young. The two hadn’t had a reason to develop the deep resentment toward Doomers the older ones had. Growing up in the United States of America, they hadn’t been exposed to the devastation Navuh’s influence had caused.

  Robert wondered if they’d gotten to witness any wars at all.

  “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Ed lifted his hands defensively. “I’m not into guys, dude.”

  Robert smiled. “That was a leap. All I wanted to know is how old you guys are.”

  “Oh. I’m thirty-eight, and Charlie is forty-five.”

  They were babies.

  “How old are you?”

  “Much older. Let’s say I count my age in centuries, not decades.”

  “Hey, Charlie,” Ed called out. “Our new flat-mate is an old geezer.”

  “I’m not that old.”

  “Just kidding, man. Do you want a beer?”

  “I’d love one.”

  “Charlie, get us some beers.”

  “Fuck you, Ed. I’m not your maid.”

  “You’re already in the kitchen.”

  “I’m eating.”

  Ed grimaced. “Sometimes he is such a dick. I’ll get them.”

  Glancing around the apartment, Robert felt at home. Ingrid must’ve ordered the same furniture for all of the apartments in the keep. The fabric covering the couch he was sitting on was a different color than the one in the apartment he’d shared with Carol, but it was obviously the same brand. Even the pictures on the walls looked to be from the same line.

  “A cold Snake’s Venom.” Ed handed him a bottle. “There is nothing better than that. But it’s pricey. We take turns buying these too.”

  “I’ll pay my share.” Robert flicked the cap off and took a sip. “It’s really good.”

  “You’ve never had one of these before?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll never want another beer. That’s the only one that can get an immortal in a good mood.”

  “Good. I need it.”

  Ed put down his bottle on the table. “You being here, I’m assuming that you and Carol are no longer together.”

  Damn it. The keep was worse than a beehive. Everyone was in everyone else’s business. Even those two had heard about him and Carol. “You assume right.”

  Ed clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a bummer. Charlie and I would’ve taken you clubbing, but you can’t leave the keep. There is so much free pussy out there that you would’ve forgotten about Carol in no time.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for him, Ed.” Charlie walked in with a beer bottle of his own. “He can have his pick of clan females. They will be fighting over you, dude. You don’t know how lucky you are that Carol dumped you.”

  “She didn’t dump me. It was by mutual agreement.”

  Charlie took a swig from his beer. “Whatever makes you feel better. But as I was saying. It’s a good thing. Who wants to be stuck with one woman? Right?”

  Obviously, these guys knew nothing about relationships and had the level of maturity of a teenage human male.

  Damn, he missed his crew from Vegas. Those were men, even though they were much younger than Edgar and Charlie, except maybe for the supervisor. That guy was in his mid-fifties.

  When his phone started vibrating in his pocket, Robert’s breath caught in his throat. He pulled it out, hoping it was Carol asking him to come back. But it was Bhathian.

  “What can I do for you, Bhathian?”

  “Are you busy later this evening?’

  “No. Why?” Actually he was. Robert had brought over the one bag he’d kept in the office, and he was planning on picking up the rest of his stuff from Carol’s later. But it could wait for tomorrow. He wasn’t ready to be alone with her yet. It had been difficult enough to see her at the café—the only place he could get food in the keep.

  “After we'd talked, I thought about what you’d said, and I figured we can have a forens
ic artist draw Navuh’s son’s picture from your memory. Andrew knows a guy who can do it this evening.”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll come get you. Kian is letting me use one of the offices on the third floor.”

  “I’m not at Carol’s. My new place is on the fifteenth floor. Apartment 1507.”

  “You’re rooming with Charlie and Edgar?”

  “You know them?”

  “Of course I do. They are the pilots who fly us places. Nice guys. You’re going to like them.”

  “I already do.”

  “Good to hear. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  Charlie lifted his beer in salute. “Any friend of Bhathian is a friend of mine.”

  Even though the guy was mistaken, Robert returned the salute and then gulped down the remainder of his beer. Bhathian was no more than an acquaintance, and he was talking to Robert only because he needed a favor.

  Exactly ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Robert got up to open it.

  “Ready?” Bhathian asked, nodding hello to the two pilots.

  “Let’s go.”

  As they entered the elevator, Bhathian pressed number three and leaned against the mirrored wall. “I’m sorry about the breakup. Must be a bitch.”

  Finally, a man who understood what Robert was going through. “It’s difficult.”

  “I bet.”

  The doors opened and they stepped out. “She wasn’t your true-love mate, though. You can get over her.”

  “I don’t know if she was. Is there a way to tell?”

  “Give it time. That’s all I can tell you. If the feelings you have for her fade, then she wasn’t the one.”

  Robert had been thinking the same thing. How did one know what was love and what was attraction? Maybe being with others would make it clear—help him forget her.

  The office they stopped next to was three doors down from Ingrid’s, and as Bhathian pulled out a key card and inserted it into the lock, Robert wondered if the interior designer was still there. Maybe after he was done with the forensic artist, he could knock on her door.

  They stepped into a room that was appointed much in the same way as Ingrid’s, but without all the personal touches she’d added to her workspace. It looked as if no one was using it.

  “Take a seat. I need to go down to reception and get Tim.” Bhathian turned on his heel, leaving Robert alone.

  A few minutes later, he returned with a short, balding man.

  “Tim, Robert. Robert, Tim.” Bhathian made the introductions.

  They shook hands briefly, with Tim pulling his away as quickly as possible. It seemed the human didn’t like touching other people.

  The guy pulled out a large drawing pad from his portfolio carrying case, flipped it to a new page and put it down on the desk. Next, he pulled out a thin metal case, put it next to the pad, lifted the lid, and chose one of the drawing pencils.

  Tucking the pencil behind his ear, he lifted the pad and leaned back in his chair. “Shall we begin?”

  Robert nodded.

  Tim cast Bhathian a quick glance. “Get the pizza and beers. Extra pepperoni and onions on mine.”

  Bhathian seemed oblivious to Tim’s rudeness. “What would you like on yours, Robert?”

  “Thank you. But I don’t like pizza.”

  “Beer?”

  “Always.”

  “I’ll go get it.”

  “Hurry up. I’m hungry,” Tim said.

  Bhathian flipped him the bird behind his back. “You’ll better be almost done when I come back.”

  Tim shook his head. “You can’t rush art. It will take as long as it needs to.”

  Bhathian rolled his eyes and stepped out.

  A smile spread over Tim’s face. “He’s paying me by the hour, and he thinks I’m going to be quick about it? Moron.”

  Robert took offense on Bhathian’s behalf but said nothing. The human seemed like the type who would get up and leave if he didn’t like something.

  “I was asked to provide two drawings. A close up of the face and a full body. I’m going to start with the face.”

  Chapter 32: Bhathian

  Staring at the portrait Tim had drawn of Navuh’s son, Bhathian was torn between the urge to punch the smiling face, or take it up to his apartment and hang it on the wall.

  Apparently, the guy’s smile was what people remembered about him best. Both Eva and Robert had remarked on that.

  With the food service closed for the day, the café was mostly empty. Smart girl that she was, Carol had gotten two vending machines for after-hours snacking. One was a Nespresso and the other offered pastries from Jackson’s café. For a buck and a half, an immortal could have a decent cup of cappuccino and a pastry. Which was exactly what he had on his table.

  “Bhathian, what are you doing here so late?” William clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Drinking coffee.”

  “That’s what I came here for. And one of those delicious pastries. They are my Kryptonite. I can't stay away.”

  “Yeah, they’re good,” Bhathian muttered without lifting his eyes off the portrait. He liked William, but he was in no mood for chitchat.

  “Is Eva out of town again?”

  “No.” But she was working on a case at home, busy analyzing two weeks’ worth of surveillance recordings.

  When he said nothing more, the guy got it that he didn’t want to be bothered. “I’m going to check out what’s left in the machine. See you later.”

  Bhathian nodded, flipping to the other portrait Tim had drawn, the full body one.

  That son of a bitch who’d taken Eva’s virginity and turned her was annoyingly good-looking. No wonder the young Eva had succumbed to his charms so easily. He was well-built, had a charming smile and intelligent eyes, and exuded confidence. The perfect combination to get into any college girl’s panties.

  The question was whether he’d done it with her consent or without. Not that there was any way to find out. Eva didn’t remember it, and Bhathian couldn’t fault the guy for thralling her to forget what had happened. It was the standard order of operations for immortals after sex with humans. Especially for the males. Even Doomers weren’t stupid enough to leave women with a memory of their fangs and their bite.

  To keep his rage in check, Bhathian had to assume that Eva had participated willingly. And besides, by turning her, the guy had put in motion the sequence of events that had brought her into Bhathian’s life. If not for her enhanced senses, Eva would’ve never thought of becoming an agent, would’ve never worked undercover as a flight attendant, and would’ve never met Bhathian.

  In addition, the guy deserved an honorary space on Bhathian’s wall for escaping his father’s grip and taking with him an entire platoon of Doomers.

  His motives, though, were anyone’s guess.

  There could’ve been a number of reasons for the son to desert, ideology being just one of them.

  He might’ve wanted out from under his father’s control, or craved a power position he could not have achieved in the Doomer organization. It remained to be seen what the guy had done with his freedom. He might’ve become a force for good or for evil, or just neutral, living his life and enjoying the privileges his abilities no doubt provided him with.

  The name Robert remembered was Kalugal, which in the old language meant strong king. A very presumptuous name that didn’t match the more mundane names Navuh had given his other sons. Had he been expecting that particular one to rise to greatness?

  Why him and not the others?

  The barely there sound of light footsteps could’ve only belonged to a Guardian. Bhathian turned, expecting one of his comrades. But it was Dalhu. The big guy was a warrior through and through, and his recent metamorphosis into an artist had done nothing to diminish his skills. Bhathian had witnessed those when Dalhu had defeated Sharim, a master swordsman.

  “Is this the guy?” Dalhu asked.

  �
�Recognize him?”

  Dalhu pulled out a chair and stared at it. “No, but I recognize Navuh in him. The sons look a lot like their father, even though I’m sure each one was by a different mother. I can show you if you want. I drew portraits of all the main players in Navuh’s camp for Kian. The five older sons run the operation.”

  “Robert says his name is Kalugal. Does it ring a bell?”

  Dalhu shook his head. “He must’ve been a junior commander before he went missing. There are many of them.”

  “He commanded a platoon.”

  “There are many of those too. I only paid attention to the leaders.”

  Dalhu pointed at the portrait. “Can I take a look? Professional curiosity.”

  “Sure.” Bhathian handed him both.

  “The guy is good—especially since he is drawing from someone else’s descriptions. I’m not sure I could’ve done it. I have to see the face, or at least a picture.”

  That was a shame. Bhathian had been toying with the idea of commissioning another portrait. This time from Dalhu. Eva’s story about the guy at the club who’d looked a lot like Kalugal kept nagging at him. What if that man was another one of Navuh’s sons?

  Dealing with Tim was a pain in the ass, and he would’ve preferred for Dalhu to do it. But apparently it required skills the guy didn’t have.

  Except, maybe one of the portraits Dalhu had already done was of that guy.

  “Do you still have those portraits, or does Kian have them?”

  “I gave them to Kian. Why?”

  “I want Eva to take a look at them. She saw a guy that reminded her a lot of that Kalugal individual.”

  Dalhu shook his head. “That was probably a coincidence. Navuh’s older sons never leave the island unless it’s for a major mission, as in a large-scale war.”

  “It won’t hurt for her to take a look.”

  “Sure. Come over tomorrow, and I’ll ask Kian to part with them for a couple of hours.”

  “That would be great. What time?”

  “Preferably in the evening. Amanda will be mad if she misses a visit from you guys. She comes home around six.”

  “How does eight sound?”