by Lexi C. Foss
Luc began the process before his father even finished speaking, their minds clearly in sync.
A full catalog of details regarding the one called Osiris unfolded through the cerebral pathways, providing Balthazar with ample understanding of who was coming for them. An ancient with the ability to compel, which explained the mortal taking his own life. But more than that, he possessed no humanity, felt no remorse, and was feared by all those who encountered him. Aidan apparently knew him well, even seemed to have maintained a friendship with the immortal at one point, but he did not share the male’s proclivity for slaughter.
Jeremiah’s corpse appeared thoroughly beaten by the time Luc finished with him, providing a gruesome scene that their newcomers would likely appreciate.
…can’t wait to be finished with this; of course, it’ll only be the beginning of a bloodbath until they all succumb to Osiris’s command. The mental sigh that followed sent a chill down Balthazar’s spine. Such a waste of immortal life.
“We need to play this carefully,” Aidan informed. “Osiris is not a being to take lightly.”
“Why is Osiris here?” Luc asked.
“For us,” Balthazar said quietly. “And they’re outside.”
“What do you want to do with the body?” Aiden asked conversationally. “Because I personally don’t feel he’s earned a proper ceremony.”
“Agreed,” Luc replied as he cleaned his blade. “I say we burn him.”
“Burning flesh reeks,” Balthazar pointed out, playing along and ignoring the presence behind him. It took considerable effort not to turn or acknowledge the darkness, but the longer he kept his mind-reading ability a secret, the better.
“True, I suppose…” Aidan lifted his head and an eyebrow. “Osiris. This is a surprise.”
Luc glanced up at the same time, while Balthazar turned toward the newcomers. The one with long dark hair and ebony eyes owned the mind he’d overheard. Ezekiel. While the other—an olive-toned, bald man with an athletic physique—remained quiet.
Interesting.
Osiris eyed all of them with interest, his heartless gaze confirming the quick character sketch provided by Aidan. The man exuded power and purpose, redefining the meaning of god.
Yet, Balthazar couldn’t read him at all in emotion or in the mind. The immortal was immune. A secondary gift, or something else?
“Aidan.” His smooth voice held a touch of an accent, something ancient and unfamiliar. “It’s been a few centuries. Have we interrupted something important?” He flicked his gaze to Jeremiah.
“We just finished handling, shall we call it, a disagreement?” Aidan grinned, his candor shifting to one of nonchalance. “What brings you to the area?”
“A discovery.” Osiris took a step forward. “One you appear to be knowledgeable of, if I’m not mistaken.”
Here it goes. Ezekiel’s mental voice was bored. Cooperate or die.
A barrage of graphic details followed, including how they’d dispensed of the last pair of immortals before arriving. Balthazar fought not to react to the news of how to properly kill one of his kind.
Beheading or fire.
“You bear a striking resemblance to Aidan,” Osiris continued, his focus on Luc. “Father and son?”
“Yes. I’m Lucian,” Luc replied, his posture confident. “And yes, I share his gift for omniscience.”
“Fascinating. What else?” he prompted, confirming that he knew about their dual abilities.
“A sensory skill—I can heighten pain.” A strategic response to show his worth, suggesting Luc had picked up on the lethal air as well.
Balthazar met his gaze briefly to show he understood.
“Are there others?” Aidan asked, his voice curious while his analytical brain fired with calculated plays. He, too, sensed the danger.
“Yes, I’ve found several.” Osiris turned to Balthazar. “You do not belong to Aidan.”
“No, we’re recently acquainted. I’m Balthazar.” And as we’ll not be friends, you can continue to call me Balthazar. Not B.
He didn’t seem to care one way or the other about his name. “Who is your father?”
Balthazar shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was born in a brothel.”
“Interesting. And tell me your gifts.”
A squeezing force contracted his throat, forcing the words from his mouth without preamble. “Mind reading and emotion control.”
Osiris’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Indeed? Can you read mine?”
The noose tightened as he admitted, “No.”
Compulsion, Aidan warned. He can use it on hundreds at once, including us.
Yes, Balthazar had already deduced as much. “But my mind reading isn’t as strong as my emotional control,” he lied. When he had admitted his skill, Ezekiel’s eyebrows had shot upward, suggesting his surprise, and he’d immediately labeled Balthazar as a threat. Toning down his ability could only work in his favor. “I can turn a crowd of unhappy humans into a war zone or an orgy.” Preferably the latter.
“Fascinating,” Osiris murmured. “I wonder if Ishmed is your creator. Perhaps I’ll introduce you.”
Here we go, Ezekiel growled. I want to go home.
“We should catch up, Aidan,” the bald immortal continued. “Perhaps in Babylon?”
He phrases that as a choice, but it’s not, Aidan informed. Out loud he said, “Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve been home. Has much changed?”
“Oh, a great many things.” Osiris tapped his chin in a theatrical move meant to stall and heighten tension. His buddy didn’t seem all that impressed, while the rest of them merely waited.
We may outnumber them, but we stand no chance in a fight, Aidan informed.
Balthazar didn’t need the barrage of statistics and outcomes that followed to agree with him. Surviving these two would require planning and time. Going along with whatever game they were playing was their best option for now.
“Ezekiel here has the most delightful talent.” Osiris’s smile was the thing of nightmares—charmingly evil. The kind a sovereign wore before sentencing a subject to death. “He traces to familiar blood sources, of which there are many at home. How about we let him go ahead with Balthazar and Lucian while you and I discuss some recent findings over dinner?”
Go with Luc and keep your ear to the ground. The urgency in Aidan’s mental voice did not match his calm tones as he replied, “Absolutely. I look forward to it.”
Luc met his father’s gaze briefly before moving to Balthazar’s side. “A tracing ability?” He actually sounded intrigued, but his puzzle of a brain was running through various scenarios, cataloging routes, and assessing the odds of each one. So many ideas and outcomes, over half of them lethal.
Nothing like living life a little dangerously.
“Similar to teleporting.” Ezekiel held out his hands. “Shall we?”
Trust no one, Aidan advised. I’ll be along shortly. He sounded very sure of that and estimated his chances at around ninety percent.
Reasonable odds.
Luc came to the same conclusion not a second later as he accepted Ezekiel’s palm. “This should be fun.”
“Sure,” Balthazar agreed. “Fun.”
9
Luc
Nineteen immortals.
Mostly males.
It made sense when one considered the requirements for rebirth. Females weren’t often killed early on in life or in unnatural ways. They lived to a full death, which implied that age diluted the essence of resurrection.
Amazing.
Everything clearly related to bloodlines and souls. Once a person reached a certain life stage, their bodies couldn’t handle the change. Or that was Luc’s theory, anyway. He would have to test it later with Aidan. Whenever he figured out how to escape this mess.
All of the dual-gifted beings were in an oversized firelit cavern with sentries at the exits. Ezekiel had dropped Luc and B here with a little wave before disappearing.
Ju
dgment appeared to be the theme. Aidan and Luc had always suspected this would happen once the blood-drinking immortals realized their offspring could be reborn with multiple powers. None of their hypotheses for this moment were good.
“What do you hear?” Luc asked.
Balthazar folded his arms beside him, his brown gaze scanning the room. “A lot of confusion and fury, some poor plotting, and the voice of one who is not what he seems.”
Luc arched a brow. “One similar to Aidan?”
A nod from the mind reader toward an auburn-haired woman cowering near one of the exits. Her gaze was downcast, her slim shoulders curved into the perfect pose of submission.
A ruse?
Another nod. “She’s a pyrokinetic and powerful and does not belong in this room.”
“A safeguard,” Luc murmured. “In case we misbehave.”
Balthazar nodded. “There’s a meeting scheduled at sunset to decide our fate. It’s her job to make sure we play nice until then.”
“I see.” That couldn’t be too long from now, though it was hard to tell from their place inside the cave. “Can you hear my father?”
“Not yet, but the lethal one who traced us here hasn’t returned again.”
Thereby suggesting Osiris, Ezekiel, and Aidan were still together. Luc kicked a foot up against the wall behind them and relaxed against it in a falsely casual pose. “Tell me about our choices.” Who can we trust? Who can we use? he added.
Balthazar remained quiet, his eyes assessing. Listening, Luc realized. He waited patiently beside his ally, not wishing to rush the man’s judgment. Recruiting a few immortals could aid their escape, but only if they chose wisely.
Several of them wore defeated expressions, others one of immense hatred, and a handful displayed a calm thoughtfulness similar to his own.
“The one brooding in the corner,” Balthazar murmured. “He’s useful.”
Luc followed his gaze to a young male with long brown hair. He had a knee drawn up to his chest and the opposite leg stretched out along the ground. The immortal beside him appeared to be trying to make small talk—unsuccessfully.
“He’s telepathic and claimed his other gift to be linguistics,” B continued. “But that’s not all he can do.”
Dark brown eyes lifted to them—sensing their interest—and narrowed.
Balthazar smiled. “Extremely useful.”
“He doesn’t seem too eager.”
“Leave that part to me,” B replied, his focus shifting. “We need that one too.” He nodded toward another dark-haired man, this one grinning at the nearby sentry. “He’s new—only a few weeks into his immortality—but he grew up here. His father apparently tried to kill him a few times and told Osiris. That’s the reason we’re all here.”
“Why is he smiling?” Luc wondered, frowning. The man looked almost happy to be here.
“He’s taunting the guard, and it’s working. They know each other.”
“Could be a good distraction.” If the young immortal took on the sentry, others would likely follow while Luc and Balthazar slipped out the side. But B was already shaking his head.
“We need him alive and helpful. He can manipulate metal—for miles.”
Luc’s eyes widened. “That’s impressive. What else?”
“Not what, but who. There’s one not amongst us.” He faced the exit farthest from them. “Someone is being kept beyond those walls—he was too lethal to trust in the room. He kills by touch.”
“That would indeed be useful.”
“Assuming we can free him, which we’ll need the woman lying on her back over there to do. She’s petite, but her telekinesis is on point. And she can read minds, too, but only one at a time.” The female in question lifted her blonde head and winked at them. “She’s definitely with us.”
Luc grinned at her. “Fine by me. Anyone else?”
“Not yet.” He popped his shoulder against the wall, arms still folded. “The power outside of this room is vast.”
“Tell me about it.”
Balthazar detailed the various gifts hitting his senses—most of them replicated in the immortals among them, as they were offspring of those beyond the walls—and the various opinions of the immortals outside the cavern. “Some want us dead; others think we could be useful” was his conclusion.
“Meaning our independence is off the table,” Luc translated.
“That’s what it sounds like—either we cooperate or die.”
Are any of them aware of our blood’s impact on them?
The blonde on the floor rolled her gaze their way again, her expression curious.
“No,” Balthazar replied. “Which reminds me, I’ve recently learned that both of our kinds can die by fire or beheading.”
Luc considered the biological attributes of each and nodded. “That makes sense. Flames would destroy the chemical properties in our blood, and a beheading removes the flow to our brains.” That confirmed his theory that souls were connected to the electrical connectivity of the cerebrum.
“So why…?” Balthazar trailed off as he conveyed the rest of that question with his eyes.
Why does our blood impact them? A nod from the mind reader. Probably because our immortality is a mutated version. They rely on human essence for survival, and our souls are tainted. So rather than provide them with the life they need to maintain their immortal selves, we do the opposite.
“An interesting supposition.” Balthazar scratched his chin as the petite blonde rolled to her feet. Rather than approach them, she sauntered over to the young immortal. “Patreena chose the newbie. Let’s go meet the telepath.”
Luc pushed off the wall to follow B. The male in the corner glowered at them as they approached.
Fuck. Off. The growl entered his mind, the voice unfamiliar but clearly belonging to their target.
“He’s friendly,” Luc murmured.
“I love him already,” B agreed as they stopped before him. “Hello, Alik.”
Two dark eyes slit up at them. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m Balthazar,” he continued as if the other man hadn’t spoken. “This is Lucian. I think we…” He trailed off as his attention shifted to the entry. “They’re back.”
“Aidan?” Luc asked.
B nodded, his lips flattening as he went eerily still.
The telepath stood, his head coming up to Luc’s chin. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s listening,” Luc whispered.
Patreena seemed oblivious, her focus on the young one who seemed more than happy to flirt with her. She ran her nails up and down his arm, her lips curled in amusement. Whatever they were discussing did not appear related to a potential escape, which was likely the entire point. His suspicions were confirmed as she rose up onto her tiptoes to whisper in the male’s ear, causing his friendly gaze to shift to Luc. Understanding rimmed those dark brown irises while he listened to whatever she told him.
“We can’t make a move yet,” Balthazar said, breaking Luc’s focus. “Aidan says to tell you there is much we don’t understand, that if we try to escape, we won’t make it to the gates. Our best chances are to remain agreeable while he works behind the scenes.”
“Who the fuck is Aidan?” Alik asked, his arms crossed.
“My father.” Luc held Balthazar’s gaze. “What else has he said?”
“He’s in strategy mode, it’s…” Balthazar shook his head. “I can’t navigate.”
“Then he’s concerned.” Luc’s mind worked similarly when in danger. He constantly analyzed every tiny detail.
“Yeah, like that,” Balthazar muttered, massaging his temples. “Our odds increase if we cooperate. They expect us to fight and are more than ready to handle us all.” His focus went to Alik. “Not even you. There’s over a hundred of them, and while I admire and respect what you can do, it’s not the smart play.”
Alik scoffed. “Then you clearly underestimate my skill.”
“No, I’ve heard all a
bout it loud and clear in my head, and while admirable, we need to be smart about it.”
“We? There is no we.” He gestured between the three of them. “I work alone.”
“Then you’ll die alone,” Balthazar replied calmly. “To survive what’s coming, we need to work together. They’re better trained and prepared for our retaliation, and on top of that, they’ve developed trust in each other over the centuries. We’re all new to one another, putting us at an extreme disadvantage. But hey, if you want to go reveal your gift preemptively, have at it.”
Luc snorted. And you call me the leader. He couldn’t have said it better himself.
Distrust and annoyance radiated from the telepath as he folded his arms. “And I assume you’re in charge of this little arrangement?”
Balthazar chuckled. “No, that would be Lucian. He’s over several hundred years old, is a master of strategy, and has an ally on the inside.”
“When did I volunteer for that position?” Luc asked, serious.
“You didn’t, which is why you’re the leader.” Balthazar cocked a brow at Alik. “Whether we continue this conversation or not is entirely up to you, but I’d suggest it. Especially since I can hear what Cyprus has planned for you.”
The telepath scowled. “I’m going to rip that bastard apart limb by limb when I get out of here.”
“Can’t say I blame you. Your father is a real dick.” B crossed his arms. “What’s it going to be? A team effort, or a solo mission?”
Alik looked them up and down. “You’re clearly a mind reader of some sort, but what else can you do?”
Balthazar smiled. “How pissed off are you at your current situation?”
“What?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you?”
“Are you serious?” The telepath’s brow crumpled. “I’m fucking furious. You?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, causing Luc to hide a grin behind his hand. He knew exactly what his mind-reading friend had planned.
Balthazar nodded and rubbed his jaw, saying nothing for several seconds. Luc knew his play even before he saw the light flicker in Alik’s otherwise dark gaze. That it took so little effort to manipulate such a furious individual spoke highly of B’s true power. Definitely an asset, not that Luc ever doubted him.