by Lexi C. Foss
And so it was settled.
A temporary peace.
* * *
“The Treaty of 1747 allowed us a semblance of peace for nearly three hundred years. Alas, with the uprising of a new power, the armistice is crumbling at the seams, and I happily welcome the destruction it will bring. Vengeance will be mine.”
—Alik
Luc: Yes, I think that would be wise.
* * *
Jay: This isn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be. I think we should skip forward.
* * *
B: To Brazil?
* * *
Jay: Or we could skip that altogether.
* * *
Amelia: But I want to know what happened in Brazil.
* * *
Jay: I thought we were friends, Amelia.
* * *
Amelia: What? I just want to know the outcome of the bet.
* * *
Tom: Me too.
* * *
Jay: You’re only saying that to agree with Amelia.
* * *
B: Because he’s a smart man. But we’re moving in chronological order here. Brazil is later.
* * *
Amelia: What’s next?
* * *
Luc: A story you’re not going to like, but one that should be told.
1
Eli
Blueberry muffins. Eli could smell them from the master bedroom, where he stood in a pair of jeans and shoes. Amelia had laid out a shirt for him on the bed, but he wasn’t in the mood for light blue. He preferred black, like his hair.
Eli stalked over to their walk-in closet to find something more suitable. Amelia disliked the dark colors because they gave him an intimidating appearance that frightened their guests.
He snorted. Everyone who visited them feared for their survival within a few feet of him not because of his clothes but because of his power. He could kill by touch. That tended to quiet a conversation real fast.
Alas, his little flower tried to make him more approachable by dressing him in softer colors. Darling woman, how he adored her. But he would be wearing black tonight.
The front bell sounded as he finished buttoning his long-sleeved shirt.
“Got it!” The yell was necessary for Amelia to hear him from all the way upstairs in their room. A downside to a huge estate.
Eli preferred their home in Hydria, but this oversized manor in the Hamptons was a gift to Amelia from her billionaire brother. A way for her to be close by without being in danger. It made her happy, so Eli didn’t complain when she wanted to visit.
He finger-combed his hair as he skipped down the master staircase toward the three-story foyer. The French doors stood open at the bottom, their two visitors standing just outside.
One he recognized. The other he did not. Amelia mentioned Jonathan might bring a friend or a date, and it seemed he’d opted for a colleague instead. Or perhaps the male was a bodyguard? He certainly had the right build for it.
“Jonathan,” Eli greeted the shorter of the two men. Jonathan wore a tailored suit and held a bottle of red wine. It was likely laced with blood, the Ichorian’s personal favorite.
“Eli,” Jonathan returned without an ounce of fear. Their friendship dated back over a century. If Eli wanted to kill the immortal, he would have acted ages ago.
“Come in, come in.” Eli waved them inside as he bounced back to allow them both entry. Amelia had left the door open for a reason, yet Jonathan—formal as always—had chosen to ring the bell anyway. Perhaps he felt it was needed with the unknown male at his side. “And introduce your friend,” Eli added, more curious than irritated.
Jonathan chuckled. “This is Stark. I recently promoted him to the head of my Sentinel unit with the CRF. He’s also serving as my bodyguard for the evening.”
“And you felt he was needed here?” Amelia asked with a slight admonishment as she entered the foyer. Her heels clicked over the marble as her royal blue dress swished against her long legs.
“Only on the way here. I also thought it would be a nice opportunity to introduce him to some of my close Hydraian friends.” He grinned charismatically at the end, causing Amelia’s lips to twitch. “And you did say I could bring a date.”
The Sentinel didn’t flinch or react, merely eyed the interior of their home with bored interest. Something about him struck Eli as different from the usual men Jonathan hired. His blond hair was a tad too long to be recent military, and while his posture radiated protective detail, a quiet confidence lurked beneath his exterior that suggested not much fazed him.
“I expected one of the female variety, but I forget sometimes how married you are to your job.” She went onto her toes to kiss Jonathan on the cheek. “Don’t fret, love; I made extra.”
What she wouldn’t admit was how frustrated she’d been only hours ago by the last-minute dinner request. It was one of the many traits Eli adored about her—she always commanded the home and played the part of perfect hostess. It was a skill he lacked. He preferred bluntness to polite formality, while Amelia exuded generosity and goodness. And she was always taking care of everyone.
The perfect woman.
His perfect woman.
“Darling, can you close the gate?” Amelia asked, her sapphire gaze on Eli. “I left it open after giving Robert the night off.”
“Yep.” He wandered into their living area to fuss with the buttons on the wall panel that controlled several aspects of their home.
“Robert and Cherie are out for the night?” Jonathan asked from the foyer. “I was rather hoping to see them.”
“They have something at the school for their daughter.” Eli could hear the smile in her voice, even from the other room. “I cooked a little extra for them as well, including some muffins.”
My muffins? Eli thought as he watched the gate close on their wall screen.
“If you’re still here later, I’m sure they’ll want to see you as well,” Amelia added.
“They knew we were coming?” Jonathan asked, sounding disappointed.
Amelia giggled, eliciting a grin from Eli. That sound always warmed his heart. “No, I knew if I mentioned it, they would cancel their plans,” she said softly. “I figure we’ll surprise them later. And Cherie will be thrilled not to cook.”
“Always thinking of others,” Jonathan murmured. That tone used to irritate Eli, but he learned over time that the Ichorian enjoyed charming all women, not just Amelia. Besides, everyone had a soft spot for her. She was gorgeous, kind, and essentially royalty as a widowed duchess’s daughter.
“Flirt.” Humor lightened her tone. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude by ignoring our new friend. Stark, right? That’s unique.”
“It’s a nickname,” the male replied, his tone flat. It reminded Eli of a boring professor about to lead a stoic lecture.
He rejoined them in the foyer as Amelia asked, “What’s your real name?”
“Gabriel.” No elaboration or a hint of feeling. Very strange, as was the intelligent gleam in his light green gaze as he took in their surroundings again. He seemed quite alert for being in the comfort of a friend’s home.
“I’m Eli, by the way,” Eli said, holding out his hand. Jonathan had failed to do introductions earlier, likely because he already gave the Sentinel a heads-up on who was whom.
The broad-shouldered male accepted the gesture with a firm shake and gazed impassively at him. “I know” was all he said before letting go of Eli’s palm.
“You didn’t warn him of what I can do?” Eli guessed, his focus flickering to Jonathan in surprise. “Most of your men refuse to touch me.”
Jonathan shrugged. “There’s a reason Stark has risen so quickly in my ranks.”
“If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t need my cooperation,” Stark added. “I was also told this would be a friendly dinner.”
And yet, you seem cautious. Why?
“It certainly is; Jonathan is family,” Amelia replied. She moved to El
i’s side to wrap her arm around his lower back. It was her way of trying to soften him, and as always, it worked. He kissed her forehead and draped his arm over her slender shoulders.
“You’re not giving Robert and Cherie all the muffins, are you?” he asked softly.
Her vivid blue eyes lifted to his with a smile. “There’s a plate waiting for you at the table.”
He kissed her tenderly, not caring at all about their audience. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
“Only twice.”
“I love you, little flower.” He nuzzled her nose. “Very much.”
“You love my muffins,” she taunted, pinching his side. “Now stop mauling me. We have company.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her on the cheek before returning to their guests. “Shall we?”
“After you.” Jonathan gestured in the direction of the main dining area.
Amelia linked her fingers through Eli’s and tugged him toward the scent of blueberries. His stomach rumbled at the thought of how many of those delicious pastries he could devour in one sitting. At over six and a half feet tall, he could eat two trays easily. Sometimes it paid to be an immortal. His body always returned to the shape he’d originally died in—a fantastic perk in addition to all the others.
“You all can take your seats. I just need to get our main course from the kitchen,” Amelia said as she left Eli to entertain.
Jonathan took the chair at the head of the table while Stark flanked his left. Eli sat across from Jonathan, thereby leaving several empty spaces between them all. The large dining set was required when his Hydraian brothers came to visit, but tonight it just felt vapid and too big.
He idly considered calling Balthazar, or even Issac, just to fill the void, but decided against it. Jonathan had requested the dinner after saying he had some sort of news to share, and it sounded as though he wanted to run it by them before alerting the others. Hence the reason they kept this engagement small.
“So, how’s the CRF?” Eli asked as he plucked a muffin from the tray in front of him. He didn’t particularly care how the renowned humanitarian organization was doing, but this seemed appropriate polite conversation. Amelia would approve.
“Excellent. We’re in the process of expanding our research wing, actually.” Jonathan smiled. “Perhaps I’ll give you or Amelia a tour sometime.”
Yeah, that wasn’t likely to happen. Eli enjoyed a good armory, but a science lab? Unless they were developing unique military weapons and testing their accuracy—which was unlikely, given the organization’s purpose—no, thanks.
Still, he nodded because that was the kind thing to do. “Sounds enlightening.” And boring as fuck.
“Oh, you have no idea,” Jonathan replied. “There’s so much to learn.”
Eli supposed that might be true for an Ichorian of only a few centuries, but as someone who had lived several millennia, he disagreed. Rather than say that out loud, he changed the subject to something of value. “How’s your son? Tom’s attending university, right?” By Eli’s estimation, the kid was around twenty or twenty-one human years old now.
“Yes, in New York City so he’s close to me.” Jonathan uncorked his wine bottle and poured himself a healthy amount. When he didn’t offer it to anyone else, it confirmed Eli’s suspicions that he’d laced the liquid with blood. “He’s completing a program with the Special Forces, however, to better ready himself for a job at the CRF. So he’s actually overseas at the moment.”
Military training. Nice. “That’ll be helpful when he becomes a Hydraian as well,” Eli remarked as Amelia entered with their main course. He admired the fit of her dress as she bent to place the food on the table. Taking that off her later would be very enjoyable.
“When who becomes a Hydraian?” she asked.
“Jonathan’s son.” Eli started unwrapping the muffin now that Amelia had joined them. “He’s undergoing some military training, which I said would be helpful when he joins us in Hydria.”
“If he joins you,” Jonathan corrected. “He might choose to stay with me and run the CRF.”
Eli chuckled. “I’m sure Luc will be thrilled by the idea of having a Hydraian in renowned Ichorian territory.”
“It’s not exactly his decision, is it?” A hard edge lined Jonathan’s tone, indicating this to be a sore subject. Which, yeah, Eli imagined having his only child fated to live in a world where his father wasn’t welcome wouldn’t be all that appealing.
Still…“It’s a conversation for you and the Hydraian King.” Which Eli knew would not go in Jonathan’s favor. Fledglings were hard to come by, thanks to the notorious Blood Laws, and they needed all the Hydraians they could find for future wars.
Amelia sat beside him and cleared her throat. “Yes, I agree. Let’s discuss something else.” Always the mediator.
God, how he adored this woman. He found her hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze. “Jonathan has invited us to see his new research facility,” he said, knowing full well Amelia would have no interest.
“Oh?” She unfolded her napkin over her lap with her free hand. “That sounds lovely.” Her words lacked heart, but she delivered them with a smile so sweet that no one would think otherwise. Except Eli. He knew her too well.
He took a bite of the muffin and groaned at the delicious flavor. Definitely returning the favor after the guests are gone, he thought with a wink at the now-blushing Amelia.
“Eli said the same, though I think he used the term enlightening.” Jonathan sipped his wine thoughtfully and set it down with a sigh. “It’s just too bad, really.”
“What is?” Amelia asked, her head cocked slightly to the side. Eli would have smiled at her adorable look if he wasn’t also wondering what Jonathan meant. He set the muffin aside as he waited for the Ichorian to elaborate.
“Well…” Jonathan dabbed his mouth with a napkin and set it on his plate. An odd gesture, considering he hadn’t eaten anything yet. Unless he considered the wine a meal? “I did mention I needed to discuss something with you both.”
“Yes, I have to admit I worried something was wrong,” Amelia said. “But you look quite fine.”
Jonathan’s lips quirked up. “I’m more than fine. Actually, I’ve never been better.”
Instincts prickled Eli’s insides. Something about that tone didn’t feel right. He sat up a little straighter, while Amelia sagged in relief beside him.
“Good,” she sighed. “It’s just been so quiet lately, causing me to wonder when the other shoe might fall. Or is it drop?”
Eli kissed her on the cheek. “Drop, love. Waiting for the inevitable.”
“Yes, that.” She waved her delicate hand. “Such an odd phrase, really. Anyway, you were saying, Jonathan?”
There was a beat of silence that scattered goose bumps down Eli’s arms. Was it the Sentinel stirring such distrust? Or that gleam in Jonathan’s dark eyes?
Something is very wrong.
“Well, as I said, it’s a shame, really, because while I’d love to show you both the new facility, I can only take one of you.” Jonathan shrugged as if to ask, What can you do?
Amelia frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Neither do I.
“To put it bluntly, your gift for humanoid shifting is worth more to me than Eli’s ability to kill by touch.” A touch of insanity lurked in Jonathan’s dark eyes as he met Eli’s gaze. “I can’t really risk you killing everyone. You understand.”
He opened his mouth to say he didn’t, when a flash of silver appeared before him.
A gun.
The chair scraped the floor as he stood, his hands out in front of him. “Jonathan—”
“Sorry, old friend. But it’s the only way.”
What?
The muzzle flashed before Eli could even think to react.
Amelia!
Oh, shit. Oh, holy shit. No…This…What the fuck just happened?!
His heart ached, his breath leaving on a sharp gasp. No. This
couldn’t be real. A nightmare. How many millennia had he lived? How many centuries with his Amelia? Protecting her, loving her, cherishing her…
To go down like this? To fail her?
Amelia…
His head dropped, his vision blackening.
Not like this.
A dark hole whirled around him, different from all the other times he’d died. He usually fell into a state of unconsciousness and awoke later as if from a dream. But this wasn’t right.
Her fingers clutched his as the last vestiges of reality left him on a whoosh of air.
My final breath.
Whatever was in those bullets—oh, it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the icy hand in his, or the memory of it.
His Amelia.
I’ll always love…
2
Luc
“How many?” Luc asked as he swirled the contents of his glass.
“Five,” Balthazar replied. He stood beside Luc’s stool with his back and elbows resting on the counter.
Normally, Luc spied their future conquests while Balthazar read their minds without looking, but tonight they’d opted to switch roles. Just for fun.
“Thoughts?” Luc prompted.
“Mostly kinky, though one is a bit shy due to inexperience. There’s also a sixth across the room who seems to favor pain.”
“If only Alik had joined us.” Luc sipped his bourbon slowly. “And their interest levels?”
“Extremely high. They seem to be debating how to approach us.”
“Then perhaps we should go to them?”