CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One - The Prince
Chapter Two - Hangovers and Heirlooms
Chapter Three - Unseelie, Meet Isabel
Chapter Four - History Lessons
Chapter Five - Elven Dreams
Chapter Six - Decisions, Decisions
Chapter Seven - Bend the Rules
Chapter Eight - Holy Shit, Glamour Much?
Chapter Nine - Beasts in the House
Chapter Ten - Old Home-New Memories
Chapter Eleven - Elementals Like to Play
Chapter Twelve - Fight Like A Girl
Chapter Thirteen - Mortal Heart
Chapter Fourteen - Uglies Running Rampant
Chapter Fifteen - Gods Among Us
Chapter Sixteen - Empty Streets
Chapter Seventeen - Powerless Mages
Chapter Eighteen - Sleep, Beauty, Sleep
Chapter Nineteen - Get Over It
Chapter Twenty - Beastly Prince
Chapter Twenty-One - Crop Circles
Chapter Twenty-Two - Death by Treason
Chapter Twenty-Three - I Don't Do Helpless
Chapter Twenty-Four - Unseelie Hell
Chapter Twenty-Five - Trickery
Chapter Twenty-Six - When in Ugly-World, Be as the Uglies Are
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Chiseled and Blue?
Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Spoils of War
Chapter Twenty-Nine - A Necklace for Two
Chapter Thirty - A Thousand Years of Debts
Chapter Thirty-One - Don't Piss Off an Elven Queen
Chapter Thirty-Two - Drinking Again...
Chapter Thirty-Three - He Will Pay
Chapter Thirty-Four - Outcast
Chapter Thirty-Five - Tricky Son of a...
Chapter Thirty-Six - Not Love, Just Sex
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Magically Bound
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Elemental Trouble
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Never Call Us Faeries!
Chapter Forty - Be Mine
Chapter Forty-One - Deal With A Blue Devil
Chapter Forty-Two - Lerei nish dei
Chapter Forty-Three - Chapter 1-Immortal Bound-Fulfillment
Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Sage
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at [email protected].
Acknowledgments
This book is for my daughter, without whom I may never have had the inspiration to sit down and write again. She saved me from a great many things, and returned me to myself.
To my friends and beta readers who help me get through all of these adventures intact. I adore the crap out of you. Lesia, Tiffany, Maria, Jen R., Dawn V, Tracy K, Angel, Timetrius (always and forever, soul sister) Jan, Sabrina, and many more names than I’m able to write. You ladies rock the casbah for always sharing my work. I love the hell out of you.
As I entered into 2017, I knew it was time to get back to the Immortal Realms and get this work back on the market after a very long reprieve. Thank you last, but never least to my own Immortal, who helped me feel true inspiration for my art once again by creating so much magic in my life.
Sweet dreams, and happy reading.
Much love,
Jen Sage xoxo
Prologue
BEEP BEEP BEEP! She swatted at the alarm clock with her eyes closed, groaning at the interruption. Isabel kicked the covers off herself and punched the pillow, burying her head in it so she could scream without making too much noise. The wood floors creaked outside her door and she shut her eyes again. Amele walked without making a sound, so it was obviously her way of knocking somewhat.
“Not now, Amele! Give me a second at least!” she shouted. Silence followed her outburst.
Isabel’s eyes opened again. Dear God, did the woman actually listen? Her eyes moved over to the pile of her crumpled Victoria Secret pajamas that were against the wall in the corner and she felt a wave of heat flashing over her. It was one thing to go to sleep naked and wake up that way, but when you have a full sleep set on with a tank top and drawstring pants before you fall asleep, it gets quite annoying to wake up in your birthday suit every day. Not that her PJ’s were her biggest concern at the moment.
She rubbed her eyes and shook off last night’s dream. Once upon a time it had been pretty cool to have such lucid dreams, but this had really been getting out of hand lately. How the hell was she going to make a choice? Being tossed back and forth the way she had been was beyond exhausting, and even with the events of the last few days she wasn’t sure if she should believe all this. Okay, she should definitely believe it, but she didn’t want to.
Isabel stumbled to the bureau and pulled out a t-shirt, a white bra, a pair of unremarkable matching underwear, and jeans, and threw them all on. She quickly ran a comb through her wild, rebellious hair and pulled it back into a knot on her head. The wood floors of this old house protested beneath her bare feet as she walked to the bathroom and stared at the dark circles under her eyes. Sighing at her appearance, she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth before trudging reluctantly downstairs to face the she-devil. The smell of her favorite coffee wafted through the air though, and as foul a mood as she was in she couldn’t help but smile a little. At least that hadn’t changed when her world was flipped on its ass. Well, her coffee hadn’t—what it was brewed in had.
As she headed for the expensive chrome device that did everything except grow the beans itself, she almost laughed at how out of place it looked in this sparse kitchen. Walls that hadn’t seen paint in decades and ripped linoleum floors surrounded her, and other than some very basic furniture, the space was devoid of clutter. And then there was the monstrosity that she adored. She took a ceramic cup from the cupboard and poured some of the black gold into it. Rich, sweet aromas came swirling up from the cup and she allowed a moment of peace to invade her crankiness. She had no idea where Amele bought—likely obtained was a better word—her coffee from, but it was hands down the best she’d ever tasted. At least there was one part of her real home in this run down house.
After pouring in her sugar, she moved a little more gingerly to the fridge and frowned. Out of creamer again? Out of a lot by the looks of the empty fridge. Leftovers from various restaurants and pizza houses stared back at her, but no creamer. Good God, they’d only been here for a day! Or was it two? She was losing track of time with the disturbed sleep schedule lately. She sighed dramatically and walked back over to her mug. Oh well, no light and sweet today, but it would do. Hell, after last night she seriously contemplated spiking it with whiskey just to make her mind a bit numb to the lingering effects of suitor number two. The skies were as dark as ever, evil lurking everywhere. Literally.
“Isabel, we have to talk.”
“Why, Amele? It was just another night in paradise. The end,” she grumbled.
Amele peered at her from over the couch with an amused grin tugging at the corners of her perfect mouth. “Spill it. Now. Then, we really do have to talk. It’s getting worse out there.”
Isabel muttered some choice words beneath her breath and walked over to join her friend on the ancient, weathered couch, and t
ook a deep breath before she began to rehash her dream. Choice? This was no choice. It was absolute torture. When she was done, Amele was being such an ass, holding her sides as she rolled on the dusty cushions with laughter.
“You did what? Oh Gods, Isabel! I can’t believe he didn’t try to kill you right then!” Amele snorted, laughing so hard.
“It’s not funny, Amele, and I think he truly wanted to! What am I supposed to do now? I’m so embarrassed. Even if he is the one, how could I ever face him again?” She hid her face in her hands.
“Ah, he’s a grown immortal, he’ll get over it,” she chuckled, trying to get her face serious again. “Besides, it’s not your fault, not really. You’ve been thrown back and forth between the two of them with scarcely a chance to breathe! And they both come at you like hungry beasts, it’s no wonder you’re mixing them up. It’s going to be okay, my little warrior.”
7 Days Earlier…
Aerosmith pounded through the air with the song, “Angel,” as she sat at the bar in Pete’s Tavern. “I want your love - Let's break the walls between us, Enough's enough I've suffered and I've seen the light…Baby,” Isabel belted the song lyrics to an amused looking Amele. “What? I think I was born in the wrong era, I would totally do Steven Tyler, no questions asked…or would have twenty years ago, you know, if I hadn’t been two at the time. Eww, okay, this is going way off-track.” Isabel shook her head as Amele nearly spit out her drink laughing at her.
What better place to spend her birthday than the most happening bar in town? Okay, so it was the only bar in town if you didn’t want to see strippers, but there was only one of those as well. The strip bar was nowhere near the center of Montreat, though. Being from a small town had its perks and its downfalls. Everyone thinks they know everyone, which is obviously a downfall. Perks? Well, you didn’t need to worry about big city crime in a place like this. Most people didn’t even tend to lock their doors whether they were home or not. The small college here kept the town alive, but it just barely had a pulse. Montreat was a place people disappeared in—a place they could fall off the map and get away from big cities and deadlines and just exist. She’d always loved that, but she also wanted to see the world. Maybe this year after college was done she’d be able to save enough to at least go for a vacation to some romantic place like Rome or Paris. Likely not, but she had to dream, didn’t she?
There were always a few strangers that passed through—truck drivers and vacationers, on their way somewhere else—but no one stayed long and the local paper was never very interesting. The most exciting thing that happened around here was when someone tried to kiss her and random tornados would form, ruining the crops and her reputation. Or when lighting would set a fire in the woods near her house that time that her ex boyfriend Michael almost made it to third base in her bed. Tornados just didn’t happen in the Appalachians, at least not here. Except near her, and just that once. That was enough to ruin her for the very slim pickings Montreat had to offer in the way of men. This was a great place to raise a family, but not even that silly dating site, Match something or other, had any options in this area. She only knew that because Amele had tried desperately to get her out of her funk after that happened. The closest ‘dating scene’ was over an hour away, and she didn’t need to drive an hour to meet another Michael, or start some sordid romance online that had no heart or soul in it. Isabel didn’t like social media or television at all, and avoided most of it like the plague. One day she’d get out of here and make more friends, and meet some real men that she would consider dating…that would know nothing of her past. One more year, dammit, that’s all she had left and then the employment offers would come flying in. That, or she’d get her masters degree and waste some more time in this forgotten town. She glared at the man across the room that brought up all of this nostalgia and then turned toward the bar. Isabel reached over for the red fruity shot awaiting her and clanked her glass against Amele’s.
“Happy Birthday, Isabel. Maybe next year we can go to Cancun instead? Nothing against Montreat, but this town is dull as hell.”
Isabel laughed and felt her mood lighten a little. Thank God for Amele. She always knew how to make her smile. “Sure, you can count me in on that. I was actually just thinking how much I want to get out of this place. I know my parents loved it here, but it’s just not the same for me without them.”
She felt a familiar aching in her chest and knew she needed to sidetrack this train or she was going to wreck. Five years almost since the accident, and still she held the grief like it was yesterday. Isabel gulped down the shot and shivered, feeling the liquid set fire all the way down to her stomach. Not tonight; she wasn’t going there in her head tonight. She was going to have a blast with Amele and forget every bad experience that she’d ever known. Amele had a concerned look in her eyes suddenly and shook her head.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. It’s your birthday. They’re at peace, and you need to be, as well. You know they’d want that.”
She freaked her out sometimes how well she knew her—like she could truly read her mind. I guess like any good relationship, you learn each others body language and such, but Amele was uncannily accurate. That or her emotions really were all over her sleeve, as Amele had told her once. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions, even as a child. Pete slid another shot at her, shaking her from her reverie, and Isabel took it. Dammit, she was determined to change her fate, if only for a night. Tonight she was going to be normal and have fun.
“Why the hell not? It is my birthday, after all.” She sucked that one down too, and then had an overwhelming urge to dance all the crap and pain playing on repeat right out of her head. She pulled Amele off her barstool and headed to the dance floor as another one of her favorite songs came on.
“Let’s dance!” She said as she moved out to a small throng of people gyrating their hips to the music. It must have been the four shots she’d had since getting here, because she never danced—at least not in public. Whatever it was, she was going to have a good time tonight. No, an absofreakinglutely awesome time.
She was dressed up to the max, and had everyone’s attention in the bar, including her ex, and she loved it. She let her hips move to the music, swaying sexily to the beat of the base. She almost felt as beautiful as Amele, who was difficult to compete with on any level. Amele had long blonde hair and even longer legs, a tan that she never worked on, and a set of twins on her chest that couldn’t be real even if Amele insisted they were, to match the rest of her ridiculously perfect body. Isabel always felt a little out of place standing next to her, but tonight she was beginning to feel on top of the world. Her own long, curly hair was moving in fiery waves around her and damn it if she didn’t feel pretty freaking sexy at the moment.
When the song ended she pulled Amele back over to the bar and ordered another round. Those things were awesome. Amele just laughed at her every time she ordered another and complied every time she went out to the dance floor, following her like a faithful friend should. And every time a man came too close, Amele was there to head him off. That bit was a little irritating, but none of them were very appealing anyway. Another con to living in a small town. You knew everyone, most since they were kids, and therefore knew far too much about their personal everything. Her eyes did however keep straying to her ex and his new girlfriend getting far too comfy over by the pool table. To hell with him, she was going to have some fun.
Too many shots to count had been ingested and Isabel felt her legs getting a little heavy so she went over to sit on the barstool and take a break. Pete poured another two drinks and slid them in front of her and Amele, but Amele quickly intercepted both and drank them.
“Hey! I was going to drink that!” Isabel stammered, glaring at her friend, and then moving her glare to the couple on the other side of the bar.
“You’ve had enough, trust me. Here, drink this.” She pushed a glass of water at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking ab
out. I’m fine. I don’t need water.” Looking over at Pete, she added, “I’ll have another, please.”
He looked back and forth between Isabel and Amele and shrugged. “It’s her birthday,” he said, and began to prepare another.
“Okay, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t try to warn you later. Drink this, then have another if you have to.”
“Fine.” She took the water and gulped it down in just a few swigs. “Happy, Mom?” she sighed and continued, “Amele, I just want to have some fun for once.” Isabel pouted.
Amele smiled, flashing her perfectly straight teeth at her. “I know, sweetheart, and you definitely deserve it. These things just have a way of sneaking up on you, and you’re not a drinker, Bel.”
“Sometimes I feel like you’re three times my age. Maybe I should call you grandma, instead?” Isabel laughed as she got a playful tap from Amele. A shadow crossed over Amele’s eyes though before she could turn away, and Isabel blinked a few times. Maybe she really had consumed enough of the fruity beverages? The lights in here were dim, they must just be playing tricks on her.
“I’ll be back, I gotta use the restroom,” she said, her speech slurring noticeably now, even to her. It seemed a chore to speak at the moment.
Amele stood with her arms across her very blessed chest and a half-smile that said ‘I told you so’ creeping across her lips. As Isabel tried to step off the barstool, the floor wasn’t where it was supposed to be at all and she nearly fell flat on her face. Amele must have moved at light-speed to catch her, but Isabel couldn’t wrap her head around how she’d gotten to her so quickly. When her eyes focused, she was bent over at the waist being held by Amele, and staring at some gorgeous, silver-spiked heels. And where did those legs lead as her eyes rose up? Right into the face of Michael’s new girlfriend, Sheree. She was the gymnastics team lead that had always hated her long before she’d been with Michael. Isabel hadn’t been cool enough for the cool kids in school, not that she had given a shit growing up. God, these drinks were really causing some serious insecurity to rise up in her. She squeezed Amele’s arm in a thank you, and began to straighten. Laughing it off as cool as she could, she shrugged as Amele got her upright—shakily as it may have been—trying to regain some sense of dignity even though her cheeks were flaming hot.
Immortal Dreams (Immortal Realms Book 1) Page 1