ImmortalIllusions: The Eternity Covenant Book2

by Immortal Illusions (lit)

  Shit. Now what? Raine’s brain chugged into overdrive, but before it could think too hard, words fell out of her mouth. “Jack’s always shopping. Sometimes to keep, other times to sell or trade. You know how he is. Always on the make for the next big thing.”

  “He’s always been a good customer.” The ice crystals retreated. The tension broke. “So you left the Covenant because he made you a better offer. Gave you a soul blade. Something you’d never earn on your own as a half-breed.”

  Raine absorbed the words, using them in the feedback loop of rage swelling within.

  “Working with Jack is a means to an end for me. I’ve woken up to reality.” No colder truth out there. Hearing the words, though, made her feel slightly queasy. “I’m in it for me these days.”

  Silence stretched between them. Raine held herself immobile beneath the scrutiny. She let her mind and emotions drift randomly between anger, lust, and longing. Gia fed from the vibe, and when her cheeks were nicely pinked and her eyes hazed with pleasure, she finally relaxed.

  “You’re better off in the private sector.” She licked her lips like a sated cat. No doubt the psychic feed from Raine’s emotions filled her to bursting. It was a small price to pay to protect the truth. “A girl with your kind of background can really make a name for herself. Jack’s a good place to start.”

  “I’m hoping he is.” Raine Spencer, one. Vampire Queen, zero.

  Gia finished off her drink and stood. “His word is good with us. You’re with him, and no threat that I can see. So you’re in. For now. But we’ll be watching you.”

  “I’d expect no less.”

  As the vamp made her way back into the shadows of the lounge, Raine noticed several large males, most likely her thralls, detach from the crowd and follow at a discreet distance. The air was lighter without Gia around. Raine took in a few deep lungfuls, and worked on pushing all the anger back into the little box in the back of her mind. Her head pounded from the scathing energetic interrogation.

  The loud, rhythmic music from the dance floor beyond the lounge’s windows pulsed like a heart on the verge of collapse. Every now and again she picked up the distant rumblings of subway trains, vibrating through the floor. Orpheus was buried in the bedrock of Manhattan, and according to Jack, had a few back doors and secret entrances that led into the maze of defunct tunnels and forgotten passages.

  If things went south, she had a rough idea of how to escape, and where to go. She had committed his sketched map to memory, including the pens where they held auction merchandise. On the way to the club, Raine had run various encounter and escape scenarios in her head. In all of them, getting the three half-breed children out alive was a no-go. She couldn’t do it alone. She needed at least two back-up operatives. Maybe three, depending on the size of the opposing force. She had to rely on the Jack’s intel that a strike force was going to hit the club and liberate the kids. Because they couldn’t afford to compromise their own mission. The thought depressed her so she moved on, trusting when she didn’t want to trust, that Jack’s word would hold out.

  The bar crowd shifted as Gia’s entourage moved through, and Raine caught sight of Jack prowling his way out of the gloom. There was no doubt about it. The man was sex personified. Sources said his father was the Norse God Heimdahl, but looking at him Raine thought more Eros, or Apollo. It was a wonder he didn’t leave a trail of fire and desperate women behind him.

  “Did you get the nod from the Queen?” he asked, looming over her.

  The urge to touch him struck her like a hammer. She all but sat on her hands to keep from reaching out. “We’re in. For what it’s worth. They’ll be watching me.”

  “They watch everybody. Especially the big spenders. We’re rich, and power-hungry. That always spells trouble.”

  “All we’re missing is paparazzi.”

  “They’re upstairs. We’re heading for the lowest level of this hell. It’s full of cameras, and magical wards, but I’m full of tricks so you don’t need to worry about showing the right profile. When push comes to shove, our images won’t stick.”

  “How long ’til show time?”

  “No long. Starts now. Ready for the curtain call?”

  Raine swallowed her fear. And her desire. “Been ready all my life.”

  He flashed one of his rare, genuine smiles. There and gone like a quick day dream. “I like you, Raine Spencer.” He held out his hand and she accepted, rising to her feet. “Do me a favor, don’t get killed tonight. Okay?”

  They rode a fortified elevator down deep into the earth, with an escort of two ghouls and Gia’s thrall, Boris. The putrid ghouls made Raine want to puke. They were way worse than zombies: faster, stronger, more rotten.

  The elevator spilled them out into a very narrow corridor that reminded her of the castle ruins that dotted Europe. Lighting was dicey. Darkness swallowed the fringes of yellow illumination, taking on a life of its own. A cloaked wraith blended with the shadows, but the red-eyed hellhound on the lead jumped and snarled with a gleeful kind of menace. Raine’s blood cooled an easy ten degrees. Regular bullets wouldn’t kill the hound or the handler. Special munitions would—an enchanted jacketed bullet encasing a hot load mix of vampiric acid, grave dust, and mercury for the wraith. Regular vampiric acid with a touch of iron sulfide would do the hound, as long as the shot drove through the brain matter. She didn’t have either handy. But a soul blade could do the job, too, and she knew where she could get one of those real quick.

  “Take care,” growled Boris, his voice hard with a Russian accent. “No touch the merchandise.”

  Jack sighed loudly. “If I can’t touch, Boris, I can’t verify it’s legit. I’m not looking to adopt a kid. I need a battery. You don’t let me touch, I take my money elsewhere. Think your owner will like losing out on my bankroll?”

  Raine’s forearm itched. She wanted to scratch. But more, she wanted to summon the blade and put it to use. Spilling the thrall’s innards would be a good place to start. Then the hound, and the wraith. The thoughts shook her up a little, but the discussion about the children got her easily over that. Following orders had never been harder in her life.

  “Gia no care, we have other buyers.”

  “Not like me, Boris. Why don’t we give her a call? See what she thinks.” Jack removed his cell and began to dial. Like he’d even get a signal down here.

  “No phones.” Boris reached for it, but Jack was quicker.

  He slapped the thrall’s hand away, and Boris drew back with a sharp hiss of breath. “Hands to yourself, son,” Jack cautioned.

  They rounded a corner and the hall widened out considerably. It looked more like a dungeon passage now, similar to some of the catacombs that crisscrossed beneath the Parisan streets, or lay buried beneath Jerusalem’s sand and concrete. Wooden doors lined both walls. At several points vamps fed on blood slaves, some willing, others not willing but cowed by the soporific compound released during the feed from the fangs. One couple at the end were fucking. The male had pinned his slave against the wall and slammed into her with mechanical precision and inhuman strength. The slave had a blissed-out look on her face, and puncture marks on her frail neck.

  With every step, Raine waged her growing battle with the desire to slay the vermin around her and rescue the kids, and the duty she was currently sworn to carry out. She clenched her teeth and kept her eyes focused straight ahead.

  “Okay.” Boris’s voice carried through the stone passage. “I let you touch, but just once. You touch too long, I hurt you, Jack Madden.”

  Jack snickered. “I get one touch, my lady gets one touch.”

  “No lady, only you.”

  Lady? Why would Jack want her to touch these kids? Did he want to torture her even more? Bastard. “I’m not your lady.”

  He ignored her. “How about it, Boris? Only one touch.”

  Boris stopped at the end of the hall, pushed open a door, and began to descend a flight of stairs. “Okay, you one, bodyguard one. Any more.
I kill.”

  The stairs ended in a rounded chamber. At the far end sat a cloaked figure at a wooden desk. Another wraith, this time sans hound. Behind the desk was an iron-barred door.

  Jack reached out and took her hand. His gentle touch brought with it a sudden calm. Her forearm ceased itching. She blinked, realizing rage had been gathering inside, undetected.

  “The merchandise is inside. We have only a few minutes.” His voice was easy, his body relaxed. How did he manage it? Could she learn the same?

  “I understand,” she said softly.

  Boris talked with the wraith, or rather, Boris talked at the wraith. When he was done, the undead creature motioned at the barred door and it swung slowly open.

  Raine followed Jack into the tiny room. Two white wicker basinets were side by side, covered with a frothy gauze netting. Next to those was a small child’s bed covered with a battered quilt, and a whitewashed changing table. In the bed slept a small girl, curled up with a bright purple Barney plush toy. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, and she looked deceptively human in slumber. The basinets both held infants, small, tiny little creatures that could be no more than a few months old. The walls of the dank prison room contrasted with the pristine quality of the children supposedly safely asleep. The sheer perversity of it swamped Raine with emotions she didn’t know she had. She was going under with it all, starting to shake, starting to lose it completely, until Jack squeezed her hand, anchoring her to reality.

  “Let’s see what’s what.” He was a strange comfort in this obscene parody. “Touch the girl when I do, and don’t pull back until I do the same.”

  He was up to something. The fact lodged in her brain at that moment, as if it had been there all along. She almost wept with relief. He was doing what he did best. Breaking the rules. “How long?”

  “A few seconds.”

  Behind them Boris huffed loudly. Raine hastily followed Jack’s lead and touched the sleeping child. There was a momentary disorientation, then a rushing sensation passed through her, kind of like a free fall, except she never moved. Jack pulled away and she did the same. Raine wanted to gather the girl into her arms, but she played the game, and moved with him to the first bassinet.

  The infant inside slept as soundly as the young girl. Drugs or magic, she reasoned. Or both. It was swaddled in blue flannel with a crocheted blue cap. Colors could be deceiving, but this time when she touched, she knew. A boy. Four months old. Christopher. Couldn’t catch the last name. Something that began with the letter Y. The information appeared in her mind, but as with Jack moments ago, seemed as though she’d known it forever. Christopher’s skin had a leathery quality to it. She almost pulled away with the surprise knowledge that came next: gargoyle. Part gargoyle. A near impossibility. Hell, a total impossibility. Jack drew back and so did Raine. Reluctantly.

  Gargoyles, or stone shifters, as they were known amongst the Were, kept rigidly to their own kind, and had one of the slowest reproductive cycles and highest infertility and infant mortality rates. Adding in the odds of breeding beyond the normal bloodline made this child a statistical impossibility. But that was the funny thing about life sometimes. It defied everything, statistics, odds, logic, and went on doing what it felt like doing. What hidden potential rested inside that tiny little body, so oblivious to the peril surrounding it?

  The next bassinet held another boy, a month younger than Christopher. No name for this one. His delicate, pointed ears stuck out at impossible angles from his head, peeking over the sides of his cap. Just like me. This is how I looked when I was brought to Uncle Hugh. She knew she’d been near the same age. Frail, smaller than a full human child, and all alone in a hostile world.

  She hesitated a moment and when Jack gave her a curious look, relented and rested her hand softly on the infant’s tummy. She had the crazy urge to rub, to offer comfort like a mother. Jack touched the crown of the child’s head, cupping it the way a father might. Except neither of them could ever be parents in the biologic sense. Half-breeds often had magic in them, but two halves could not make a whole anything. They were genetically sterile. Why the hell was she thinking all this now? She was going crazy, that’s why. Elven crazy. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  There was no disorientation for this child, but no real information. Only sensations. Sweeping cold. Hunger pains. Loneliness. Sorrow. What had this young one known to leave such impressions? Jack released the child but Raine held on, wanting to know more.

  “Too long touch!” Boris scolded.

  It broke the spell. The infant wiggled in its swaddling and released a muffled, mewling sound. Was he dreaming? Was it pleasant? It had to be better than this. She prayed it was better.

  “Careful, Boris, you’ll wake him,” she said, removing her hand. She let go of Jack, and tucked the swaddling blanket a little tighter. That settled the child, and the fussing stopped. “I think we should bid on all of them.”

  Jack grinned, showing no signs of anything other than pleasure. The consummate liar. “I agree.”

  Boris hustled them out of the room, back up the stairs into the main corridor, and to the elevator.

  The urge to destroy was strong for her. The emotional turmoil stirred up by seeing the children for sale sublimated nicely into violence, and her normal controls were on bypass. Only Jack kept her in check. The next stop was more civilized looking, but the veneer couldn’t shield the pervasive evil. Fluorescent light, sleek walls, and hi-tech surveillance equipment all formed a modern picture, reminiscent of a high-end office complex. At a half-circle charcoal marble reception desk sat a sleek male vampire with a Greek look about him.

  “Mr. Madden and guest,” he drawled. “You’ve been assigned to the white room.”

  Jack pulled a long face. “That’s a general access room. I would think I warrant a private room.”

  The “receptionist” glanced at his flat panel monitor, pecked a few keys on the computer, and gave Jack an ingratiating smile that screamed “tough shit asshole”. “The instructions are very clear. They came direct from Ms. Malinov herself.”

  “Then give Ms. Malinov a call, and we can discuss this unsuitable arrangement.”

  The elevator doors opened again with a hiss. Jack glanced at them and a dark look came into his eyes when he saw the occupants: Gia and the goon squad. Then, in a flash he was back to unreadable. Raine wondered what the reaction signaled.

  “You discuss with her now,” said Boris.

  Gia and her entourage joined them at the reception desk. She’d changed into a Versace-style dominatrix outfit that made her skin paler than white. Sheathed on her hip was a sinister-looking cutlass, no doubt enchanted to the max. She faced off against them, almost toe-to-toe with Raine, but addressed her comments to Jack. “Discuss what?”

  “I requested a private room,” Jack began in that sultry voice of his.

  Gia pinked up a little. Even the Queen wasn’t immune to his unearthly charms. “So you did.” Her voice was husky with a hint of jealousy. “That was before you added a guest to the list.”

  “I’m sure you know I have a contract on my head.” Jack crossed his arms. “This guest is a bodyguard. Plenty of your other bidders travel with protection. Do you put them in public rooms?”

  “They don’t bring castaways from rival organizations.”

  “The Covenant doesn’t care about Alts, they’re not rivals.”

  “Everyone’s a potential enemy to the Covenant, Jack. You of all people know that. They’re trouble. And my job is containing trouble, since my brother can’t seem to be bothered.”

  The emphasis on brother was telling. Sounded like more than sibling rivalry, Raine thought. Her forearm burned, and her pulse picked up. Random images that made no sense to her started flashing across her brain. They moved so fast she couldn’t keep up with them.

  She tuned back in to Jack and Gia and the conversation, hoping distraction might disrupt the jarring movie.

  “If it helps, Jack, you�
�re the only on-premises bidder. No one else met the security check for a direct invite.” Gia toyed with one long, platinum lock of hair. “Tell me, what did you think of the merchandise?”

  Oh yeah, that was a hell of a distraction. It helped short circuit the images, but fired up the rage. Her uncle called it the strength of the righteous, and claimed it a sacred power to be tapped and channeled to do the work of the Covenant. Raine recognized it for what it was: battle lust. She compressed her lips and paced her breathing. She couldn’t kill a Vampire Queen, not in her own castle, not now. But she wanted to, oh how she wanted to erase this vermin.

  “I’m impressed. All three are excellent specimens, but the stone-shifter kid’s got the juice. One-half gargoyle, the other half, not human, not sure what. I’m thinking some strain of demon. Man, that’s power. I’m glad I made that transfer this morning to my account from my bank in the Caymans. I’m not going home without that one.”

  She knew he was playing a game. She knew it, but he was so damn good at it, she almost believed he intended to take the child as he said. She blinked, trying to sort herself out. The artifacts. That was the important part. The artifacts mattered. And so did the kids. But the kids weren’t the mission: they were off-plan. The desire to lash out was near uncontainable, but Raine managed to fight it back to a standstill. And then, when she’d finally managed to get herself under control, all hell broke loose.

  Jack and Gia were talking, when a rumble like the earth cracking in two roared through the infrastructure of the club. Dust shook down from the ceiling, the marble desk cracked in two, and the world around them rocked on its axis.

  “What the hell was that?” Jack looked around wildly, panic etched into his fine features. It was a command performance. “What’s going on here?” he shouted at Gia. “You’re supposed to provide me with safety!”

  “It’s not us, asshole,” Gia spat. She followed with an unholy oath, and drew the cutlass. Before Raine or anyone else could react, the vamp moved like lightning and brought the blade right against Raine’s neck. “What are you up to, Jack? Speak fast, you have three seconds before I bleed your Covenant pig!”