by I. T. Lucas
And as far as the human females living on the island were concerned, they shouldn’t be forced into prostitution, and only willing ones should be recruited and hired to work in the brothel. He could compel their silence the same way he compelled the pilots’, so they could leave when they were too old to work or stay if they wished to.
Except, his father would never agree to make these changes, and there was no way Lokan could achieve any of it on his own in the event the clan sent an assassin to kill Navuh and succeeded. He wasn’t powerful enough to hold the Brotherhood together.
Perhaps if his brothers were willing to cooperate, the infighting could be prevented, but he wasn’t naive or optimistic enough to believe such cooperation could last. Each of them would try to seize power from the others, and the results would be catastrophic for the island’s population as well as for the rest of the planet’s occupants.
Stopping again in front of the portrait, he shook his head.
His musings were no longer relevant. He was a prisoner of the clan and powerless to effect any change.
Except, what if he could convince Kian that his plans were aligned with the clan’s?
In fact, it was crucial that he succeed.
The way he saw it, Navuh couldn’t be disposed of or overthrown without it resulting in the Hydra effect. When Kian realized that, he might decide that his only option was to destroy the island and everyone on it.
Lokan couldn’t allow that, which meant that he would have to withstand unimaginable torture.
He chuckled. Perhaps that was the great sacrifice Carol’s Fates would exact from him in exchange for gifting him with a true-love mate.
Looking into the brunette’s secretive eyes, he murmured, “Do you have the answers?”
Warning Carol against assassinating Navuh had been a necessity. She would obviously report it to Kian, and the guy seemed intelligent enough to understand the reason for it.
The question was how to convince him that there was another way to effect change that didn’t involve bombing the island or killing its leader.
When Kian had asked him what he needed Vivian and Ella for, Lokan’s answer had been the truth, just not all of it.
Getting them to report who Navuh was hiding in the harem hadn't been about satisfying Lokan’s curiosity. Well, in part it was. If his mother was an immortal, she could still be there.
But that hadn’t been the main reason.
Whoever Navuh was hiding from everyone, including his own sons, must be either incredibly precious or dangerous to him.
Gaining access to that female and her secrets might open a new way to influence Navuh into accepting change.
Right.
It had been a long shot before, but now it was a pipe dream. Kian would never trust Lokan enough to agree to collaborate on any mission, let alone one that was based on pure speculation.
26
Ella
“You actually cooked.” Julian kissed Bridget’s cheek. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” Ella said and gave her future mother-in-law a hug.
“It’s my pleasure. And ignore my son’s remarks. I know my way around the kitchen.”
“I’m sure you do. Can I help with anything?”
“You can toss the salad and help me carry things to the table. Everything else is done.”
“I can help carry things,” Julian offered.
“Six hands are better than two.” Bridget waved a hand motioning for them to follow her into the kitchen.
Ella had a feeling that Bridget wanted to talk with her alone, and that Julian had spoiled her plans. She wondered what that was about.
A warning not to hurt her son, or else?
Bridget wasn’t that type of a mother-in-law. Ella didn’t know the woman well, but usually she was all business. It was probably something about the use of contraceptives and how she should toss them if she wanted to transition.
Except, Ella already knew all that, and so did Julian. Perhaps Bridget thought she would be embarrassed to talk about it in front of him?
In the kitchen, Turner was crouching next to the oven and watching a roast through the window.
“Good evening,” Ella said. “I didn’t know you cooked, Turner.”
He waved at her. “I don’t. I got it pre-made, but the guy in the store said to watch it when I heat it up, so it doesn't dry up. A meat thermometer would have been a much better solution, but we don’t have one.”
“That’s because we usually don’t eat it,” Bridget said. “But what you are doing is silly. I think I hear Vivian and Magnus. Can you go open the door for them?”
“I’ll do it,” Ella said.
For some reason, hearing Bridget call Turner silly had irked her. He was anything but. She owed the guy her life, her future, her happiness, everything. He’d saved her twice. Once from the Russian and then from Lokan.
A shiver ran through her as she imagined what could have happened if the clan didn’t have Turner to lead the rescue missions. The Fates had done a double good deed by bringing him into the fold.
The doorbell rang just as she reached for the handle.
“What smells so good?” Parker asked in lieu of greeting and headed for the kitchen as if this was his house.
“There is a roast in the oven,” Turner said. “Hello, Vivian.” He offered his hand to her mother first, and then to Magnus.
When everyone was done with the hellos and how-are-yous, and Turner deemed the roast ready, Bridget called everyone to the table.
“Let’s start with a toast. We have so many things to be thankful for.”
“Indeed.” Vivian nodded.
Turner uncorked a bottle of wine and poured some for everyone, even letting Parker have a few drops. “You earned it, buddy. Our own compulsion removal master.”
Ella snorted. “We should be so lucky. Unfortunately, he is not only good at removing compulsion, he’s good at using it too. I can’t wait to transition so he’ll stop tormenting me.”
“It’s not my fault that you and Mom are the only ones I can practice on. And because the two of you are going to transition soon, I have to do it a lot.”
Vivian ruffled his hair. “Ella is just teasing, sweetie. You can practice on us as much as you want.”
Clearing her throat, Bridget raised her glass. “Let’s toast Ella and Vivian's safe return.”
After the round of glass clinking was done, Bridget continued. “Next toast goes to Parker. The first clan member to ever possess the ability to compel humans. Your rare talent opens up new possibilities for the clan. Once you have full command of it, we might consider bringing humans into the village on occasion, without fear of them revealing our location.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Parker lifted his glass.
“To Parker,” Magnus said.
When that round was done, Turner refilled their glasses.
“The next toast is to capturing Navuh’s son.” Bridget turned to her mate. “And to my brilliant man who made it happen.”
As they all clinked glasses, Turner looked uncomfortable and murmured something about just doing his job.
“The next toast goes to Ella and Julian.” Bridget smiled. “Congratulations on finding each other and starting your life together. We wish you an eternity of happiness.”
“Thank you,” Julian said as he clinked his glass with Ella’s. “My new mission in life is to make my mate happy.”
Bridget nodded and then turned to Vivian and Magnus. “And to you, congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”
As Ella finished her glass, her head started spinning. “Perhaps you should combine the rest of your toasts into one because I’m already getting dizzy.”
Bridget chuckled. "I keep forgetting about your human metabolism, but this is the last one anyway. Let’s toast to our new and expanded family. May we have many joyous occasions to celebrate together and toast to.”
“Amen,” Turner said. “Now let’s eat befo
re this roast gets cold.”
When the meal was done, and everyone had moved into the living room, Bridget pulled out a large box from the hallway closet and brought it over to the coffee table, putting it in front of Ella and Julian. “A little something from Turner and me to celebrate your moving in together.”
“What's in it?” Julian asked. “It’s a big box.”
“Open it.” Bridget waved at it.
Together, Ella and Julian tore through the wrapping paper and then opened the box.
“It’s a quilt.” Julian pulled it out and stood up to unfurl it.
It was big enough to cover their king-sized bed but way too beautiful to serve as a blanket.
“It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much.” Ella pushed up and rushed to give Bridget a crushing hug, and a perfunctory one to Turner. “We should hang it on the wall instead of putting it over the bed.”
“You can do whatever you want with it,” Bridget said. “Turner and I bought it in Miami. We went to see a quilting competition, or rather exhibition because most of the quilts were for sale. When I saw this one, I knew that I had to get it for you two.”
Ella frowned. “You bought it before the mission. How did you know we would move in together?”
Smiling, Bridget tapped her nose. “A mother’s intuition.”
27
Carol
As Carol watched Arwel input the code into the keypad, she memorized the numbers. Perhaps, if everything went well, she could pay Lokan a surprise visit later tonight without involving Arwel.
The problem would be leaving later. The door had a sensor and would close behind her, but to open it, she would have to call Arwel. It didn’t make much sense to sneak in if she couldn’t sneak out.
Not a big deal. She had no qualms about what she was doing, and Arwel had no illusions as to what this was about either.
Maybe another woman would have handled it differently, dangling sex as a possibility but never going that far, but it wasn’t Carol’s style. And besides, she wanted Lokan. For her, having him was going to be a reward for great spying work, not a chore.
The male was gorgeous, intelligent, had a decent sense of humor, and surprisingly for a Doomer, knew how to treat a woman. His current situation had dimmed Lokan’s powerful personality a notch, but he was still a formidable male.
She sighed. If only he weren't a Doomer…
Heck, who was she kidding? She didn’t give a damn. A Doomer had saved her from the sadist, and another one had chopped the monster’s head off. She, more than any other clan member, should know that not all Doomers were bad.
“You should just let me in,” she said as the door finally started moving. “You don’t need to come in.”
His brows forming an upside-down triangle, Arwel looked at her and then shook his head. “I don’t like it, but you’re right. I’m just hindering your progress, which by the way is impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll just drop off the stuff you had me schlep down here.”
“That would be great.”
She had been busy that afternoon, making another grocery run to equip Lokan’s cell with all that she considered necessities, and then cooking another gourmet meal for five.
In gratitude, her new roommates had not only serenaded her, but had also donated an entire case of Snake’s Venom for her to bring to Lokan’s cell. Which was awesome since the stuff wasn’t readily available. There was only one store selling it locally, and because it often ran out of stock, the guys were now ordering the beer directly from the brewery in Scotland.
As they entered, Lokan was sitting on the couch the way he’d been instructed to do. “Can I get up and help you with that tray?”
“Yes, please. You can put it on the dining table.”
It wasn’t too heavy for her, but it was big. This time she was dining with Lokan, and she’d brought several containers in addition to the plates.
Casting a quick glance at Arwel, Lokan got up slowly, avoiding making any sudden moves, took the tray from her hands, and carried it to the dinette.
“I wish I had a nice tablecloth. Given the smells, this meal calls for a formal setting.”
She chuckled. “We are still using paper plates and plastic cutlery. Not formal at all.”
“Do you want me to put things away?” Arwel asked.
“No, that’s okay. Lokan is going to help me do that later.”
The Guardian nodded. “Call me when you’re ready to leave.” He pulled out his phone and activated the door mechanism.
“Bon appetit,” Arwel said as he walked out.
Watching the door close behind the Guardian, Lokan waited until the mechanism went silent before turning to Carol. “By the heft of that tray, I was sure Arwel was going to join us for dinner and call the other guys in as well.”
“I already fed the others.” She started taking lids off the containers. “This is just for you and me.”
“Thank you for joining me this time. It will make the experience that much more exquisite.”
She chuckled. “You use that word a lot.”
“That’s because it keeps popping into my head whenever I look at you.”
“Oh, Lokan. You’re such a smooth talker.” She pointed at the chair. “Sit down and let’s eat.”
“Ladies first.”
Stubborn man.
“In a moment. What would you like to drink with dinner? I have wine, whiskey, or Snake’s Venom beer.”
“Whatever you think goes well with the meal.”
“Wine.”
“Then wine it is.”
So agreeable. Carol wondered if it was an act, and if the Doomer prince would have been as accommodating under different circumstances.
Taking the bottle out of one of the bags that Arwel had brought in for her, she handed it to Lokan. “You can pull the cork and pour the wine.” Arwel refused to let her bring in a corkscrew, so she’d had to uncork it before bringing it down.
Lokan dipped his head. “My pleasure.”
Everything he did was a bit exaggerated, and again she wondered whether he was adding flourish to impress her with his good manners or was he like that all the time.
Navuh’s son was Doomer royalty. Perhaps his father insisted on proper etiquette?
For some reason, she doubted it.
“You are very gentlemanly, which surprises me. I was under the impression that Doomers don’t have the best of manners, that it’s not part of the curriculum in your training camp.”
He pulled the cork out and poured the wine into the two clear plastic wine glasses she’d bought. At least they looked like the real thing, which made the table she’d set up a little nicer.
“I don’t like this nickname you have for the Brotherhood. It sounds derogatory.”
“It’s not a nickname. It’s an acronym.”
He arched a brow. “Not in the old language. It only works in English.”
“Well, it kind of fits, and it’s easier than saying the entire name. Besides, you should be thankful that it’s not Dumbers. The Devout Order of Mortdh Brotherhood could have been the Devout Universal Mortdh Brotherhood or something like that.”
Lokan didn’t find it funny. “Let’s change the subject. What’s in all of those bags Arwel brought in?”
“Supplies. I got you a whole case of Snake’s Venom beer, compliments of the Guardians. If you knew how hard it was to get this beer, you would appreciate how great their sacrifice was.”
“If they believe in the nonsense about the Fates favoring those who sacrifice or suffer greatly, then they might be doing it to increase their chances of getting rewarded with a true-love mate.”
“It’s not nonsense.”
28
Lokan
Damn.
Lokan shook his head. It had been an unintentional slip. After making a mental note not to offend Carol by questioning her convictions, he had done it only a few hours later.
As his father’s son, h
e knew all about the power of belief and how attached people got to the most absurd ideas.
“I apologize for my comment. It’s just that I’m a very old immortal, and I haven’t seen much evidence to support the existence of true love, or of fate being anything but capricious. Suffering is random, and self-sacrifice, while admirable, is rarely rewarded.”
Leaning back in her chair, Carol crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “I’ve seen it happen many times. Like Kian and his wife Syssi, then Dalhu and Amanda, Andrew and Nathalie, and so on. It only started happening recently, which leads me to believe that the Fates are planning something big.”
Lokan stifled a smirk. Carol had let the brunette’s name slip. Amanda. It was a modern name, so she was either a young immortal or had adapted it to the times like he’d done with his own.
“What do you think it is that they are planning?”
She shrugged. “You haven’t tasted the ossobuco yet.” She waved a hand at his plate. “Eat.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
He cut a piece of the veal and put it in his mouth. He’d expected it to be delicious, and it was. He told her that as soon as he was done chewing.
“Thank you. Don’t think I’ll keep spoiling you like this, though. Today I was just showing off. I won’t be making you beef stroganoff and ossobuco every day. But it paid off in an unexpected way. That’s how I got a case of Snake’s Venom from the Guardians. It was their thanks for the ossobuco.”
“Aha, so it wasn’t sacrifice on their part. It was a payment.”
Carol lifted her wine glass and took a sip. “Their original thanks was singing for me, but when I asked about where I can get the beer, they gave me half of their stash. I think that qualifies as a sacrifice. Not a huge one, but still.”
Without him planning it, the direction the conversation had taken led to where Lokan could ask Carol about the Brother who he suspected had snagged Kian’s sister. Who was he? And what made him so special that a goddess’s daughter had fallen for him?