Mystic Realms: A Limited Edition Collection

by Nicole Morgan

  "Now who's the genius?" I nodded my agreement. Tendrils of hope curled like ribbons in my gut.

  "I'll call you the second we find anything," he promised.

  I still wasn't fit company for anyone. Nor was I in any frame of mind to retire for the night and idly wait for Ivan to call. I left the security department with no real plan to go anywhere and found myself roaming the island. It was a relief to discover its occupants were finally quieting down and returning to their rooms for the night. Seeking complete solitude, I departed the dimly lit park pathways and headed for the beach. The furious crash of surf against the sand mirrored the tempest in my soul. I removed my shoes and rolled my pants legs, walking through the churning water's edge. I ended up at the mouth of the grotto where I'd first awakened after recovering from my extensive burn injuries.

  Grace's suitcase still rested against the far wall of the cavern. I snapped it open and allowed her scent to pour over me like soothing incense. Along with it, poured the sweetest assurances. No wonder I'd been so tormented by her memories these past several months. No wonder her taste and scent still clung to my tongue and nostrils during the day and haunted my thoughts at night. The essence of a human remained stamped on a vampire's mind for life, only diminishing at their death.

  I stood as the revelation shot through me, shattering my greatest fear and confirming my greatest hope. There could only be one explanation.

  Grace was alive.

  Ivan called me in the early hours of the morning. "There's something you need to see."

  I met him at the security center in my wrinkled shirt and slacks. My blazer had long been discarded. "What did you find?"

  He gave a humorless chuckle. "Actually, it's not what I found. It's who found us." He pointed to the surround screen. An aerial shot of the Caribbean was displayed with dozens of dotted moving lines. "These are air flight patterns, and this . . ." He plopped his thumb down on the screen next to a tiny flashing speck. "Is a small aircraft. The pilot had circled the island twice already and is requesting clearance to land."

  "Huh!" I stared at the moving speck. "What happened to Olga's cloaking spell?"

  He spread his large hands. "She swears it's intact, but . . . You're looking at the same screen I'm looking at, and we have company."

  "Has he tried to land?"

  "Nope, only circled and he's followed a slightly different path each time. Look. He's starting his third lap now, and he's flying out in a much wider ellipse, which I find both odd and concerning. I have one of our drones locked in on him and prepared to fire, if necessary."

  "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary." I leaned closer to the moving dot, an incredulous laugh swelling in my throat. "Olga is telling the truth. I think he's circling, because he can't see the island. He's flying blind."

  "Who would do such a thing? And how did he find us?"

  My laugh erupted. "I can think of only one person." My father-in-law.

  Ivan watched my expression. "Surely, you jest. No."

  "Yes."

  He gave a long, low whistle. "I take it you never got around to asking for his blessing."

  "Not exactly," I sighed. It was one of the many things I regretted.

  "How do you think he found us?"

  "A guy like him?" I shrugged. "Perhaps our digging through his records set off some sort of alert." He would have the resources to track such things.

  "Yes, but there's no way he could trace any of it back here to us. I've scrambled all the signals. It would literally take dozens of years for a computer to unravel them."

  "Okay. Then he didn't find us. Or The Body Park. Maybe he tracked down someone else. Like the Grafs." It was the only thing that made sense.

  "Nico's cell phone signal," Ivan groaned slapping his forehead. "The little brat. That's exactly why we have regulations concerning those things." He clenched his jaw. "I have plans to deal with him later. In the meantime, what do you want me to do about the plane circling overhead?"

  For one thing, we needed to verify it was indeed Colonel Livingston. Inspiration struck me. "Get him on the mike. Ask him what emoji he texted Antjie on the day of his funeral."

  Ivan's features lit with understanding.

  "You heard the man." He nodded at Alexei.

  At first, nothing but loud static crackled through our speaker system. Then Colonel Retired Baxter Livingston's voice sounded across the airwaves. "It was the image of an ant," he confirmed, loudly and clearly.

  Ivan and I exchanged a joyful glance. Grace's father was alive and circling our island!

  I punched my fist into my hand. "Send him the coordinates to land," I ordered. It was past time to meet my father-in-law. We had much to discuss. "And I want ten of our best trained vampires surrounding the airstrip with Livingston's head in their crosshairs the moment he deplanes," I snarled.

  "You sure that's the way you want to meet your wife's father?" Ivan sounded doubtful.

  I snorted. "He's a dangerous man."

  "Uh-huh."

  "One who won't respect anything but a show of force."

  "If you say so."

  "It's the only way to convince him I can protect his daughter. My wife."

  "Ah." Ivan's expression relaxed. "I begin to see where you're going with this."

  "Good. Let's hope he does."

  Other than our carefully embedded security team in the surrounding trees and shrubs, I went alone to the airstrip. Ivan and Olga remained in the control center, watching me from the security cameras. The first rays of sun were creeping over the horizon, so Olga turned up the fog machines to ensure the appropriate amount of cloud cover remained for my safety.

  The colonel's tiny jet sliced like a silver blade through the thickening fog and rumbled its way downward. I stepped on the landing strip in his direct path, forcing him to nose up, circle one last time, and screech to a halt inches from my face.

  He leaped from the cockpit, his entire shaved head flushed with anger. "What were you thinking?" he shouted. "I could have killed you, son." He stormed in my direction, every bit still a soldier from his dark t-shirt and vest to his cargo pants and military grade boots.

  Son. Even though it was stated in anger, I liked the sound of it. I hadn't been called any man's son in over a hundred years.

  I waited for him to approach before I uncrossed my arms. I stuck out a hand. "Welcome to my island, colonel." I'd changed into a fresh suit but discarded the blazer at the last minute and rolled my white shirtsleeves.

  He gave me a quick, firm shake. I made sure I squeezed back hard enough to get his attention.

  To his credit, he didn't wince though I know my grip hurt. "What is this place?" He threw a harried look around him. "Where are we?"

  I trained a hard eye on him. "The only reason I let you land here is to answer one question. Is my wife still alive?"

  He didn't ask who I was talking about. He figured it out in a matter of seconds. As the morning sun deepened and brightened, casting a red and gold haze over us, a mix of emotions wafted over his face like a kaleidoscope. Shock. Sadness. Horror. Regret.

  He pressed a hand to his chest, sucking in deep, panting breaths.

  I almost felt sorry for him

  "You married my Gracie," he choked.

  "We eloped to Ireland." My voice took on a hoarse note of its own. "The plan was to keep it a secret until she graduated college. Then have a big church wedding."

  Bax took a knee, still holding his chest. "She never told me," he muttered. "My, God! She kept it all to herself, even after she thought you were dead." Emotion glinted in his eyes. "All to protect you."

  "Is she or is she not—" I demanded through clenched teeth.

  "Yes. She's alive, but . . ."

  I cut him off, awash in maddening joy. "You have twenty-four hours to bring her here." I reached for his hand and yanked him none too gently to his feet. "We'll provide you with a secure internet connection and all necessary funding to make the arrangements. In the meantime, we'll be i
mpounding your aircraft, confiscating all electronic devices, and erasing every trace of your flight here from air traffic control records. Only after my wife safely arrives will you be free to go."

  Bax took my barrage of commands without so much as a flicker of an eyelash. "Roger that." Then he did the unthinkable. His hard mouth spread into a wide grin, and he leaned in to clasp me by the shoulders and slap me on the back. "I would shake on it, but hell. Seems a little formal under the circumstances, considering you're my son-in-law."

  I made a motion for my vampire security squad to stand down.

  "What are you doing?" Bax asked, glancing suspiciously around us.

  "Calling off the dogs," I informed him more cheerfully than I intended. "Don't want one of them to accidentally shoot you now that we've reached an understanding."

  "Much obliged," he replied sarcastically.

  I flagged down a golf cart and escorted him to the surgical center. I thought his eyes would pop out of his head when we entered the main foyer.

  "Morning, doc," the receptionist called cheerfully.

  I nodded at her, ignoring my father-in-law's surprised look.

  "I thought you were a ship captain," he grumbled.

  I led him to the elevator and mashed the button to take us all the way down to the administrative offices. "You might feel a little air pressure," I warned. "Make sure to swallow a few times on the way down."

  He got all wide-eyed again when we entered the security center. "What I could do with a setup like this!" he exclaimed under his breath, rubbing his hands together.

  My normally straight-faced head of security looked like he was fighting a grin when we entered. "Nice to meet you, Colonel Livingston."

  "I bet it is," was the crusty response he got.

  Ivan smirked over his shoulder at me as he led my father-in-law to one of the spare computer stations and indicated he should take a seat.

  Bax sat and rolled his shoulders as if to dispel a cramp. "You two boys might want to grab a beer or something stronger if you're going to listen in." With that cryptic statement, he slapped on a headset and went to work.

  He started off by sending an encrypted email to Grace. I need to see you. Urgent. He arranged her air travel next. "Where to, son?" He tipped his head up and cocked one eyebrow at me.

  "Costa Rica. Get her to Limon. My people will meet her with a limo and shuttle her to the coast. She'll arrive by private jet."

  "Your people, eh?" Bax sounded grudgingly impressed. He reserved a flight from Atlanta to Limon. "Be sure to make all the arrangements on your end for a plus one. Or at least for plus a half. She'll be bringing my grandson, Easton."

  "You have a grandson?" I gripped the top of the nearest cabinet with both hands, thunderstruck. Bax only had one daughter, which meant Easton was Grace's son. Was he my son?

  I'd not known it was possible for a human and a vampire to conceive a baby. Other than vague stories and rumors about creating such so-called abominations, the entire concept was generally regarded as myth within the vampire community. In my hundred years of walking the earth as an undead creature, I'd not once encountered a creature who was or claimed to be half-human and half-vampire, giving credence to my belief it was impossible for the two species to create life together.

  "Yup. Congratulations, Romolov." Bax Livingston's warm hazel eyes twinkled at me. "It was one hell of a delivery, but Grace survived it and delivered you a real beauty. Has those same freakishly reddish brown eyes of yours and everything."

  I was a father. The news slowly sank through my pores. My eyes grew damp. I viciously whipped my head aside as I struggled to absorb the news. Tears of blood might be difficult to explain to my father-in-law.

  "You're lucky I tracked you down when I did," he rattled on. "Girls like my Gracie don't stay single for long."

  "What?" I whipped my head back in his direction, mindless of the condition of my eyes.

  He continued to type without looking up. "Got herself engaged a few days ago to an airline pilot in training by the name of Vinny Stone. She doesn't act too thrilled about it, if you ask me, but he's been pressuring her since they day they met. I think he finally wore her down."

  My earlier joy congealed like cold jelly in my chest. My wife was engaged to another man. The coldness slowly turned to rage. For a few moments, I couldn't see, smell, or think. Only simmer with a fury like I'd never known before.

  "Wasn't kidding when I told you to grab a beer," Bax interjected dryly.

  My sanity kicked back in at just the right moment. Otherwise, I might have done my father-in-law harm. He claimed Grace wasn't too thrilled about her new engagement and that her fiancé had worn her down. Common sense told me the whole ordeal smacked of compulsion. "Atlanta Airport," I snarled at Ivan. "Vincent Stone. Do a cross reference. Then ask around. I don't have a good feeling about this."

  Ivan nodded grimly. "That makes two of us."

  Stellan

  Ivan waited to tell me what he'd discovered about Vinny Stone until we had Bax under lockdown in one of our vacant penthouse suites with two guards covering every window and door. We couldn't afford to have him overhear a word of what we were about to discuss.

  In the event Bax was watching us from his balcony windows, we forced ourselves to keep a human pace as we walked side by side to the surgical center. We met in my private office this time, away from the eyes and ears of the security techs as well. It was a wide, trapezoidal room with an enormous chrome desk riding the center. Since it was a subterranean suite, there were no windows. Instead, monitors on the walls flashed with live scenes from The Body Park. They rotated through a pre-programmed sequence between the welcome center, the surgical center, the resort grounds, and the labyrinth of labs in The Web.

  Recessed lighting outlined the perimeter of the ceiling. I pointed my hand-held remote at the control panel and set them to a low, bluish glow. Since there were no outdoor views down here, I'd installed a few extra amenities. An enclosed waterfall feature served as the backdrop of the lounge area to the left of my desk. It gushed and spewed bubbles from behind the glass.

  Ivan settled himself comfortably on the black leather couch in my lounge. He must have changed at some point, because he was back in his signature black — black suit, charcoal shirt, black tie. He crossed one ankle over his knee and steepled his hands together. "Vinny, or Vincent Stone as it says on his birth certificate, is a vampire wannabe. Been associated with a rogue coven the past three years, peddling street drugs for them. Obviously trying to impress them. You know how it goes with these groupies. Always hoping to work their way up the chain. It rarely happens, of course, but it doesn't keep them from trying."

  True. They were far more likely to piss someone off in the process and become dinner before achieving immortality. "I take it he's not really a pilot in training either?" I dragged out one of the straight-backed chairs from my nearby conference table and straddled it. Like my lounge furniture, it was upholstered in black leather. Weathered iron pins with rounded tops fastened the leather to its carved Bubinga frame, one of the rarest and most expensive types of wood on the market. It had taken an overnight trip to a South American swamp to secure the perfect tree to have them custom made.

  Ivan quirked a single black brow at me. "Not unless you include parasailing or skydiving. Far as I can tell, the only other thing he's in to besides drugs is extreme sports, which he doesn't appear very good at from his long list of hospital visits. That said . . . I did run across one interesting detail." He uncrossed his legs and sat forward. "His last hospital visit was more than a year ago. Before he met Grace."

  I tipped my chair forward on two legs. "Any record of him entering any contests or events recently?"

  Ivan shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. "Only a single dirt bike tournament a few months ago. He placed second and sustained no injuries. That could mean something. It doesn't have to, but it might."

  I nodded. It could mean he'd been turned. "What do we know about the coven
he peddles drugs for?"

  "It's run by a vamp named Twila. She's originally from the Chicago area and may have ties to one of the original families there. I'm still digging."

  I slammed my chair down on all fours. "The last thing we need is a run-in with another mobster." It seemed more and more unsavory vampires were hooking up with them these days. It was becoming downright trendy, a terrifying aspect for my human friends. Organized crime families with their vast and long-reaching networks were dangerous enough without the muscle of an immortal army behind them.

  "Now don't go jumping to conclusions," my friend warned mildly, but he looked every bit as concerned as I felt. His normally perfectly smooth high forehead was wrinkled in thought.

  "Well, either way." I rested my forearms on the back of my chair and spread my hands. "I'd bet every dime I own that Vinny Stone is not the kind of company my wife would keep. That's true whether I'm dead or alive." I gave a dry laugh. "And I'm equally convinced there's no way a man with Bax's training and intuitions would be taken in by the likes of him."

  "I agree. Under normal circumstances, Bax would see through his tricks from ten miles away." Ivan clasped his long fingers and eyed me soberly. "That leaves one explanation — compulsion."

  I stood and began to pace the floor in front of my desk, hands shoved in the pockets of my slacks. "If Vinny used compulsion on my wife and father-in-law, that means he was turned. Which begs the next question. Why did he target Grace? Have we found any connections between Twila's coven and Anatoly?"

  Ivan's concerned gaze followed my progress back and forth across my office. "Not so far, but your uncle has connections from one end of the planet to the other."

  I paused my pacing and gnashed my teeth. The only connection left was me. It was always me. Right now, Grace's biggest connection to me was through Easton, our half-human, half-vampire child — a creature so rare I'd never laid eyes on one. And her marriage to Vinny would have put both of them at the mercy of Twila's rogue coven. Lord only knew what their intentions were towards my wife and son, but I could think of nothing good. Grace hadn't willingly fallen for Vinny's charms, or he wouldn't have had to resort to compulsion. For all we knew, he was tracking my wife now. If so, she would lead him straight to us.