Immortal Awakening: Immortal Heart

by Magen McMinimy

  “Are you finished?”

  She nodded. “I am. It’ll at least provide you with a little time.”

  “Every second counts.”

  She nodded in agreement. “That is does. What do you think they will do once your warriors bring Makyle here?”

  “They’ll come for him, and I have no doubt there will be threats that will be followed with violence when we refuse to give him up.”

  “You’d risk it all for him?”

  Cree dipped his chin. “He risked it all for one of us.”

  “Makiah.” She smiled. “He was worth the risk.”

  “That little boy is the rebirth of our line. He may not be my descendent, but we’re a family, and new blood brought to the warriors is worth fighting for. There has been too much loss in our world… we won’t lose anyone else.”

  Her voice took on a sad lilt. “I heard about Rowan… I didn’t know her, but I knew of her, and if what I’ve heard is true, then it really was a great loss that I am sorry you all had to feel.”

  Cree smiled. “She was an amazing woman.” He fisted his hand over his heart and sighed. “I’ll never stop missing her—none of us will. But all we can do now is what she would have expected of us.”

  “I have no doubt that she looks upon you all with great pride. You’ve built something here most of us will never experience.”

  Cree smiled. His visions were spotty, but he saw her. “You will,” he said with a wink, and headed back towards the castle.

  Samira looked at the world she’d only stepped into days ago. It was beautiful and filled with life. The gardens lit the grounds with color, and the subjects milling about the courtyard seemed at peace, happy and fulfilled. It was what the warriors created for their people. Samira found herself hoping that their leader was right, and that maybe there was a future for her among them.

  ****

  Izzy felt a slow burn in her thighs as they trudged through the dry sand of the Underworld. A half-mile trek and she was about ready to hitch a ride on Bain’s broad back.

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  She grinned. “I was about to hop a ride on your back; I hate walking in dry sand.”

  Bain chuckled and lifted her up, tossing her over his shoulder. “Is that better?” he asked.

  “The view certainly is,” she said, as she slapped his ass.

  “We’re almost to the forest. We’ll cut through it, but try to keep the river in sight,” Kale told them in a quiet tone.

  Bain squatted down and set Izzy’s booted feet back on the dark soil. “Come on, we’re getting out of the sand.” He kissed her forehead, and then turned to take the lead as they entered the forest. She followed close behind while Kale and Uriah flanked her.

  “Stay quiet,” Uriah warned. “There are residents in this forest.”

  With quiet stealth, they moved through the forest. Whispers of tortured souls carried through the air, causing the little hairs on the back of Izzy’s neck to prick at the sounds. Keeping close as they moved through the sparse landscape, staying sharp, and scanning their surroundings, they somehow missed the dark eyes in the distance that tracked their every movement.

  Izzy’s heart dropped as they slipped past the forest to the sandy shore of the river. She felt tears sting her eyes, and her breath was shaky as she tried to pull air into her lungs. Standing tall in the middle of the sand was the crucifix Makyle hung from. Her childhood flooded back to her as she recalled all she had learned of the sixth hour and the death of Jesus Christ. How odd was it that the Fae would sentence their own god to much the same punishment? Her pain turned to anger as she watched the residents of this level circle and attack him. He wasn’t even responding to the punishing blows that were being laid upon his exposed body.

  Izzy’s back straightened as she began to stride forward. Bain didn’t bother to stop her—he, Uriah, and Kale fell in line, flanking her. With a wave of her arm, she sent the pale-faced creature that snapped its jaws against Makyle’s flesh soaring through the sky. An ear-piercing howl echoed through the dark night as the creature landed in the river of fire and was quickly consumed by the churning liquid.

  “We got this Iz; go get him down,” Bain spoke with compassion as he, Uriah, and Kale rushed past her, pushing the Fae who stood around Makyle back.

  Izzy nodded and moved to Makyle. “Son of a bitch,” she breathed. ”What did they do to you?”

  Using the telekinesis that now resided within her permanently, she untied Makyle’s feet first, then his hands. As he began to fall from the cross, she did her best to catch him. They landed on the dark sand, him cradled in her arms.

  Fighting and wails of unearthly creatures rang out around them. Her gaze lifted briefly to see the warriors in a melee of slashing swords, flying fire, and soaring bodies. They were definitely taking the higher ground among the creatures that had been attacking Makyle. She didn’t know what happened when someone or something died in the Underworld, but she hoped Bain, Kale, and Uriah did serious damage to anything that stepped up to them.

  She sniffed back another round of tears as she brushed Makyle’s black hair from his face and began the process of healing what she could see. His breathing began to steady, and he let out a sigh of relief.

  She raised her hands over his bruised and swollen eyes. “Come on, I need to see those diamonds—they are a girl’s best friend.”

  Makyle coughed and whispered, “I thought you were more of an amethyst kind of girl.”

  She let out a sob of laughter and dropped her forehead to his. “Thank you.”

  “You shouldn’t be here, Isabelle. This place should have never touched your grace.”

  “Fuck my grace. We are getting you out of here.”

  Through the pain, Makyle sighed. “Such a mouth on you… I can’t. This is my punishment, and this is Makiah’s freedom. You have to leave me here.”

  “Not a chance,” she whispered.

  “They’ll come for me and for him.”

  “And we will fight for our family as we always do. That includes you,” Uriah said as he knelt beside them.

  Makyle sat up, stretching his arms and rotating his wrist. The joints popped and snapped, relieving the pain he had felt only minutes ago. His ribs were still bruised, and blood was still slowly seeping from his multiple wounds.

  “I will admit to not having the energy to fight you on this.”

  Rubbing at his sternum, Makyle’s fingers brushed against the vial Lechesis had placed around his neck. Clasping the vial, he looked over Izzy’s shoulders and watched as Bain cut down a tall, brunette woman.

  “Bain!” he called out, catching the blond-haired warrior’s attention.

  With a quick snap of his arm, Makyle tossed the vial to Bain.

  Bain snatched it up and arched a brow. “Thanks?”

  “Uh, you’re welcome. Now, fill it with her blood and don’t ask why. A less-than-forthcoming Fate is playing with destiny.”

  Bain nodded and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling the woman’s head back. He pressed his sword into the side of her neck; like a warm knife in butter, the steel tip pierced her skin, and a steady flow of crimson blood filled the small vial. With another yank to her hair, Bain tossed the Valkyrie to the ground.

  “Get ready, Iz; we need to get out of here,” Uriah warned.

  Izzy nodded. She kept her gaze on Makyle, thankful that he was at least awake, sitting up, and talking. She patted his cheek and grasped his hand firmly while Uriah placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Ah, man, you look like shit.” Bain smirked, as he came and knelt next to them. He wrapped an arm around Izzy’s waist, placed a peck on her temple, and then went to hand the vial back to Makyle, who was flipping him off. Bain chuckled and dropped the chain around Makyle’s wrist. “I don’t even want to know what the Fates are up to now.”

  Makyle handed the vial to Izzy. “Hold on to this for me.”

  She furrowed her brow but took the vial, dropping the chain around her
neck.

  “Let’s go, Kale!” Uriah hollered impatiently. He looked back to see the youngest warrior pulling fire from the river and sending waves over the Fae who were still coming as he ran towards them.

  “Go! Go!” Kale shouted as he dove towards them. His hand landed on Izzy’s back as she flashed them from the chaos that had erupted around the river, not noticing the hand that reached out and held on to Kale’s ankle.

  Chapter Ten

  Izzy, Bain, Kale, Uriah, and Makyle hit the hard, marble floors of the Light Fae Castle foyer.

  Samira turned, her gaze falling on the mass of crumpled bodies. Her eyes widened as body parts began moving and groans filled the hallway. Moving towards them, she stopped short as someone stood. Her eyes fell back to the floor; one, two, three, four, five… Her gaze lifted back to the form standing in the hall as he turned to face her. A wicked grin stretched his full lips, and a wild glint sparked in the chocolate eyes of her last Master.

  “Genie.” He laughed. “I’ll see you later.” His feet hit the floor in a rush as he sprinted towards the front of the castle. With the same haste that had led them to the Underworld so many years ago, he threw his shoulder into a massive window, sending glass flying and scattering across the castle floor.

  Samira stood stone still. The hallway had come to life with Izzy and the warriors finding their bearings and Cree, Holly, and Lothar joining them.

  Makyle moved with a liquid grace that most would envy; even in his barely healed state, he stood before her, his fingers wrapping around her upper arms.

  “Samira? Snap out of it.”

  Her mouth opened and closed as she looked up at him. “He’s back,” she whispered.

  Makyle sighed.

  “What the hell just happened in here?” Cree demanded.

  Izzy blew out a stressed breath. “I think we brought back a stowaway.”

  Holly’s brow arched. “A stowaway?”

  “Kadar,” Samira whispered. “He knows where it is, Makyle.”

  “Knows where what is?” Kale asked patting at his pants, sending the sand of the Underworld skittering across the marble floor.

  “Her lamp,” Makyle answered, but shook his head as he caught Samira’s gaze. “He doesn’t. He had it that day when you both showed up in my domain. It’s been in the black castle ever since.”

  “When was the last time you saw it?” she questioned.

  Makyle’s brow drew together as he recalled the memory.

  He’d healed her, drank most of the magic from her blood and placed her in a deep sleep. By the time Alistair had come for Kadar’s soul, Makyle had already tucked the beautiful lamp in his coat. Depositing Samira’s sleeping body gently on the plush coverings of his own bed in the black castle.

  He’d been struck, even back then, by the beauty that lay upon his bed. Even though he couldn’t see her striking eyes, he knew there would be a haunted quality to them had they gazed upon him. With an uncertain sigh, he left her sleeping on his bed and headed down the long hall that led to what could only be called a treasure-room. Artifacts of the past littered the shelves, pushing an urn to the side he placed the lamp on a thick wooden shelf and exited the room. With a flick of his wrist the door closed and the lock slid into place as he headed back to deal with Samira.

  “It’s been locked up.”

  With a dispassionate laugh she stated. “So you haven’t… He made me cast a spell on it. It always returns to the same spot—it was his way of ensuring I would always be his.”

  “But you’re not a genie anymore,” Izzy spoke up. “So he can’t do anything to you, right?”

  “It’s not that simple, sweetheart,” Bain answered.

  “Where is Makiah?” Makyle asked.

  “He’s with Marie and Katarina in the Human World,” Uriah answered.

  Makyle grinned. “Smart.” He turned to Samira and placed his hand on her back, ushering her towards the stairs. He caught Bain’s gaze. “Give us a little time?”

  Bain nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” Grabbing the collar of Kale’s sweatshirt, he pulled him towards the door.

  Izzy looked to Cree. “I don’t understand.”

  Cree nodded. He knew she wouldn’t. “Holly, can you fix the window while I explain?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Samira may not be a full genie, but the only reason she is practicing magic is because Makyle didn’t take it all from her. She still has genie blood coursing through her veins. This means if Kadar can truly find her lamp, he can pull her back into it.”

  “And control her again,” Izzy stated.

  Cree dipped his chin. “So let’s hope Bain and Kale can find him.”

  “Then what?” Holly questioned, as she finished conjuring a new, thick piece of glass to replace the window while Darnel and Lothar finished sweeping up the shattered glass that littered the floor.

  “We will figure it out once they bring him back. Now, go get some rest. It won’t be long before Hell pounds at our front door.”

  Izzy blew out a heavy breath. “Is Kyra in her room?”

  Darnel looked up at Izzy and smiled. “She was sound asleep last I checked.”

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on her. Her father is damn stubborn.”

  Holly scoffed. “I can’t believe he wouldn’t let her go with Marie and Kat.”

  Izzy arched a brow. “Really, Holly? This is Bain we are talking about… at least it’s less about the vampires and more just about Evan himself.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “He’s such a pain in the ass.”

  “Evan or your brother?” Izzy called back as she headed for the stairs.

  Chapter Eleven

  “This isn’t good,” Samira mumbled, as they entered the room Makyle had been given a little over two weeks ago.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he assured her.

  Samira turned to look at him. “You’re still injured. Why aren’t you having Bain or Izzy heal you?”

  He chuckled softly. “You almost sound as if you care.”

  Samira shrugged; she deserved that. “I do care, Makyle. I’m sorry.”

  His dark brow arched. “Why are you sorry?”

  She scoffed. “Don’t make me say it.”

  “Oh, I think you need to say it.” He felt his lips twitch as a satisfied smirk began to play over them.

  Samira’s head tilted at the sight of him smirking a half smile that only he could pull off in the given situation. “Really, Makyle? After everything that’s happened over the past couple weeks, you feel the need to push this?”

  His large arms crossed over his broad chest while his tattered shirt did little to hide his flexing muscles. “I’m so sorry that my being tortured was so hard on you.”

  Samira’s mouth opened slightly. Did he not know? Did he not sense her there with him?

  Reaching for the hem of her shirt, she began to pull it up her torso.

  “Wha—?” His words fell short as he focused on her exposed skin. Purple bruises and red, puckered scars littered her creamy flesh.

  Tossing her T-shirt to the ground, she stepped closer to him and pressed her fingers against his side. He flinched slightly as they glided over the wound left by the banshee.

  “It was hard for me. I experienced it all, and not just the physical part… I felt everything.” Tears began to well in her eyes. “So, if you still want to hear me say it, then I will. I am sorry for the cruel words and hatred I’ve tossed your way. I get it now.” She shook her head, and the words fell quickly from her mouth. “I don’t ever want to go there.” Her bottom lip quivered as she continued. “I know it’s where I will end up, but I’m thankful that you saved me from that hell.”

  Makyle couldn’t take his eyes off her. There was something so vulnerable and reminiscent of the first time he’d seen her. The glistening tears welling in her golden eyes and falling down her beautiful face awoke something in him he had never felt—a fierce and serious desire to keep her from ever again feeling anyt
hing that would bring her tears. Stepping closer to her, he placed his thumbs on her cheeks and wiped the salty liquid away.

  “You seem so different, and yet, so reminiscent of the woman I met so many years ago.”

  “Just a couple days here, and I feel different. These warriors and their women, they’re good and kind and… fuck, I don’t know. I guess I’m realizing things. And mostly I see that I was wrong. I let my fear morph to anger. I owe you an apology for every cruel act and word I threw at you… I’m so sorry, Makyle.”

  “It’s okay, Sam.”

  “I’m scared, Makyle.”

  “I promise—I will keep you safe."

  With her head cradled in the warmth of his large palms, she let her lids fall shut. “You owe me nothing,” she whispered.

  He smiled at that. She had no idea what he owed her. With a quick move of his arms, he picked her up, pulled the covers on the bed back, and laid her down. “Just rest, Sam.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m not the one who needs to rest. You look awful.”

  Makyle grunted. “So quickly you return to insulting me.”

  She sighed. “Makyle, be serious.”

  He laughed. “I am the serious one, remember? I have every intention of resting, but I need a shower.”

  Samira felt her lips stretch and a light flush bring life back to her cheeks. Flashes of water cascading down his sculpted body as his full lips called out her name while he stroked his hard flesh caused a yearning ache deep within her. “A shower, huh?”

  Makyle tipped his head to the side. “Yes, I reek of the Underworld.” He sniffed the air, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?”

  She smiled wider. “That you should go take that shower.”

  Shaking his head, he turned and headed for the bathroom.

  Samira slid her jeans off and snuggled down into the rich bedding. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the shower and the slap of water as she imagined it falling from Makyle’s long, black hair. She swore she could see him standing in the stream of warm water—steam rising from his feet, up his muscled calves and sculpted thighs, caressing his hard length as it snaked its way up the ridges of his chiseled chest and made its way to his undeniably handsome face.