Blue Abyss: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 3 (The Timewalker Chronicles)

by Michele Callahan

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  About BLUE ABYSS

  Half-blood Immortal Prince, Raiden of Itara, has been a battle commander in the war with the Triscani for over a century. But now the Itaran high Queen sends him to Earth with one purpose, to hunt down and catalog all human females with Timewalker DNA for her personal army. To ensure his compliance with her vile scheme, she places an evil Remnant of her own soul in his body. Should he fail his mission, or fail to return to her, the Remnant will consume him, drive him mad, and cost him his life. But someone sabotages the ship, kills Raiden’s entire crew, and forces the damaged space ship to crash land in the blue abyss of the Bermuda Triangle. With no power, no crew, and dying a slow death by poison, Raiden is forced to take a desperate gamble, place himself in stasis and hope someone finds him before it’s too late.

  For two years, visions of a dark prince have haunted Marina’s dreams. At times terrifying, at others sensual bliss, the nightmares have become an obsession that the Santa Fe native can’t resist. Mari has dedicated years of her life learning to dive the oceans and explore underwater caves… where the dreams insist she’ll find him. When she locates his stasis pod, she’s not prepared for the monsters who’ve taken him, the inhuman Triscani Hunters, who guard his body like a precious treasure. Death is sure, until an Archiver and a Seer from Itara pull her from the jaws of death and genetically enhance her dormant DNA. Mari finds out she’s not quite as human as she’d always believed. She’s a Timewalker. She has to go back and kill the monsters. And she’s in love with an alien prince whose only mission is to destroy her.

  Dedication:

  Dedicated, with love and gratitude, to the memory of my dear friend, CJ (Jan) Snyder. This was the last book we worked on together, so this one is yours, my friend. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You were a light in the dark when I needed a friend. You were a gifted writer who pushed me to be better. You were more than a mentor and more than a friend, you were a vital ingredient in shaping who I am, and who I will be, forever.

  I miss you, woman.

  I hope you’re in heaven dancing like crazy and drinking a beer.

  Save one for me.

  ‘Cheep, Cheep, Baby!’

  Cheep, Cheep.

  Copyright

  Blue Abyss, Timewalker Chronicles, Book 3

  Cover design Copyright 2014 by RomCon® and Cynthia Woolf

  Photo Copyright: Fotolia - © tankist276

  Photo Copyright: BigStockPhotos - © sakkmesterke

  Photo Copyright: BigStockPhotos - © 1971yes

  Edition

  Copyright 2014 by Michele Callahan

  Published By Michele Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, people, places and events are completely a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Timewalker Chronicles, Book 3:

  BLUE ABYSS

  by Michele Callahan

  Copyright 2014 by Michele Callahan

  All Rights Reserved

  Prologue

  Two Years Ago…

  Raiden Tzachar staggered into the tiny healer’s room on his ship and took a seat beside the only occupied healing bed. The traitor had escaped him and even now raced for the surface of Earth. Blood soaked Raiden’s back from a dagger wound in his shoulder and poison burned through every cell, devouring him from the inside out.

  The long, soft bed where his second-in-command, his brother by choice, lay dying was no longer a healing bed, it was soon to be an open grave. Gerrick’s normally pristine uniform lay sticky and stiff with blood. The substance still flowed freely from the wound in Gerrick’s thigh. Ignoring the pain from his own mortal wound, Raiden laid his hand on Gerrick’s shoulder so the giant of a man would know that he’d returned. His entire crew had perished today, but none of his men died alone.

  “Gerrick. I’m here.” Raiden squeezed Gerrick’s shoulder tightly, unable to completely rein in his rage.

  “Did you kill him?” Gerrick uttered the question through lips stained by poison. Gerrick’s eyes flashed open for a blink, then the faint light of the chamber assaulted his friend’s overly sensitized pupils which were stained an inhuman chalky blue by the Triscani toxin. The traitor, his own brother, had injected the poisin into every single member of the crew. The sight brought an ache to Raiden’s chest that had nothing to do with the wound in his shoulder. A flood of memories hurtled to the front of Raiden’s mind, but he ruthlessly shoved every one of them aside. Now was not the time.

  Raiden grimaced and did the one thing he could to bless his honorable friend with a peaceful death. He held up hands stained red with his own life’s blood…and lied. “Yes. Gutted him with my blades, brother.”

  Gerrick visually inspected Raiden’s hands and actually smiled. “Good. Good.” That smile was a miracle in itself if the fire in his own veins was any indication of what Gerrick suffered. The wounded soldier attempted to roll onto his side, to move his arms, but only managed to twitch a couple of fingers. Gerrick’s arm muscles were paralyzed. Soon, his diaphragm would be as well. Then he’d stop breathing.

  Death would be a blessing. Triscani poison was an excruciating end. If not for Raiden’s Immortal mother, he’d be dead as well. Hell, he would’ve been dead an hour ago, just as that bastard brother of his had planned. His friend had no such luck. Gerrick was more than three-quarters human.

  Gerrick closed his eyes. “The soul stone around my neck. Take it. Keep it safe.”

  “What are you talking about?” Raiden rose and struggled to reach his bloody palm beneath the neck of Gerrick’s uniform. His fingers grazed a chain and he tugged, shocked to discover a swirling black stone dangling at its end.

  “Where did you get this?” Fire rose from his gut, anger and fear mixing in a churn of pain up his throat. A soul stone was a small piece of stone taken from the material that created the Gates between worlds, a small piece of the Gate itself. Extremely rare. Very dangerous. These stones were used by the healers of old to trap enemies, make mortals Immortal, and to drain Immortals of their power.

  The Immortals on Itara feared the stones. To be caught carrying one was an instant death sentence. A half-breed like himself could live thousands of years off one Immortal soul trapped in a stone. They could also be used to record memories or knowledge to pass along to another, but, according to the books on Itaran lore, doing so usually led to the death or loss of sanity of the person who donated the knowledge. The few stones known to exist wer
e held by the Mater Mortis and the Queen’s inner circle. Visously guarded.

  To the Immortal race on Itara, the stones were a powerful and indestructible threat.

  Gerrick opened his eyes once more, and the unholy blue made his words even more ominous. “Lose it, and we lose the war. It must be presented to The Dark One. It must be given to him. He’s here. On Earth. And he knows the location of the Lost King.”

  Raiden removed the stone from Gerrick’s neck and studied it. Assuming he could even find the Dark One, the Guardian of the Gates, or the Lost King, either bastard would most likely kill him the second he saw the stone. And despite what Gerrick claimed, this stone did not belong to either male. Gerrick wouldn’t sense what his mother’s Itaran blood allowed him to know. The stone did not house a piece of any Itaran’s soul. But it did hold something… “It’s not his soul stone, Gerrick. It sings of Earth. No Itaran created such a stone and no Itaran’s soul is held within it. Where did you get this? Who gave it to you?”

  Gerrick tried to laugh, but his lungs were filling with fluid and it came out gargled. “Poor little prince. Didn’t know I had a secret.” He smiled and turned his head so he could see the stone dangling from the chain held in Raiden’s grip. “Protect it with your life. It must be returned.”

  “How am I supposed to find him? He’s been missing for centuries.” Raiden clenched the stone tightly in his fist. The Guardian of the Gates, the Dark One, had disappeared over three hundred years ago. The Lost King, even before that. The disappearance of their King was a mystery even the Immortals had been unable to solve. At the time of the Crux, the King had vanished, and his Queen, Angeline, burned to ash by the Triscani. In all his missions to Earth over the last hundred and fifty years, and all his crew’s battles, he’d never heard even a hint or rumor of the Lost King. Not once.

  “Keep it safe. Return it.”

  “But…?” By the gods, how was he going to find the Lost One, the True King? He could blend in with Earth’s human population. He knew several languages and had gathered intel on the Itaran Triads here many times, making sure they weren’t in contact with the Triscani, or helping those bastards escape their prison dimension. It wasn’t like he could waltz into one of the Triad leader’s homes and ask. They’d kill an Itaran on sight, even half-bloods. Any Itaran blood was a threat to their power.

  No, Earth wasn’t involved in this war between the Immortals and the Triscani. The unsuspecting humans weren’t fighting it, they were just unlucky enough to live on the battle zone.

  Gerrick’s grin faded and his legs twitched, the muscle fibers finally dying. He had moments, no longer.

  “Tell me what to do? Where to go? How do I find him?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me.” Gerrick shuddered.

  “Who?”

  “The Seer.” Gerrick choked and fought to draw air into his lungs. “Don’t die. She’ll come for you.”

  “Who, Gerrick? Who will come for me? The Seer?” When had Gerrick spoken to a Seer? As far as he knew, Gerrick had never set foot in the Itaran Temples, let alone spoken to the most powerful Immortals on their world.

  “Mark you.”

  Raiden’s breath froze in his lungs. Shock turned the fire in his veins to ice. There were no more Marked, no Timewalkers left alive. They’d all vanished from his world after the Crux, hunted and executed by the Queen’s own assassins. That was the reason the Itaran Queen had sent him to Earth in the first place, to track any Timewalker descendants, and capture them for her to control. The evil bitch wanted him to capture innocent humans and help her to detain and weaponize them. She’d said it was for the greater good, promised him she’d end the war.

  He’d refused to help her hunt innocents, until she’d stuck a piece of her evil inside him so she could keep track of him. Hunt him. Drive him insane from the inside out…then he’d had no choice.

  “Lucky bastard.” Gerrick grinned. The stubborn fool must be losing his mind. And yet, there was no need to argue, no need to admit to Gerrick how quickly Raiden would follow him into the eternal night. They’d fought side by side for more than fifty years, since the death of Raiden’s father and his great nephew had assumed the throne. Raiden had never trusted another living soul more. He owed the man whatever vow he could give.

  “I give you my word, brother. I’ll protect it with my life.” However pitifully short a time that may be.

  Raiden helped Gerrick to lift his hand and clasped his friend’s forearm just like he’d done thousands of times before. There was nothing left to say. Raiden simply waited. A handful of minutes passed in silent understanding before Gerrick quietly joined the ranks of loyal men, friends all, who had come to this primitive planet to die at a traitor’s hand.

  Raiden dropped his chin to his chest, but refused the tears that burned behind his eyelids. He’d spent the last hour in hell, watching his men fall, one by one, while the bastard, Ryu, and his Triscani allies destroyed his ship and forced him to crash in water, his beautiful ship a casualty of Earth’s most infamous salt-water graveyard, swallowed whole by the blue abyss of the Atlantic’s legendary Bermuda Triangle.

  But not before Ryu took the only escape pod to freedom, leaving Raiden to die like a dog deep below the water’s surface.

  There was no one left alive to witness his pain, or his heart-rending failure. Even Gerrick was dead now. Just like the others. No healing unit could stop Triscani poison. He’d have to pray his Immortal blood was strong enough to overcome the poison, or for the miracle of a living healer. All but a handful of royal healers had disappeared when he’d been just a boy, gone after the Crux just like the rest of them. Everyone, just gone.

  Raiden knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this. A day. Perhaps two. Then all of his sacrifices would be for naught. His men. His home. His ship.

  Treason twisted his insides, gnawed at his heart with hundreds of tiny teeth. The betrayer would pay, in this life or the next. And his demon-spawned twin brother had escaped, was at this very moment free to return to their home world, to walk freely and sit at table with the current generation of Raiden’s family, who were all blissfully unaware of his brother’s evil duplicity. Hell, the bastard would go home and assume Raiden’s identity. They were identical, truly identical. No one, not even their own father, gods rest his soul, had been able to tell them apart.

  Raiden had agreed to the Queen’s mission for reasons of his own. He’d come to Earth to find the Dark One, the Darkwalker Lord, a secretive being known on Itara as the Guardian of the Gates. The Dark One kept a lock on the Triscani hordes, on the Itaran’s most insidious secret…their own forbidden sons. He was the only hope Raiden had of ridding himself of the darkness he carried, of restoring his own besieged soul.

  He hoped the Dark One could get the Queen bitch’s Remnant out of his system as well. If not, he’d have no choice but to ask the other male to end him when the time came. With her evil lurking inside him, he was too dangerous, too unstable to walk freely. She’d turned him into a ticking time bomb. And she didn’t even know about his other problem, his mother’s blood. Or perhaps she did know and that was why he and his brother had both been summoned and chosen for this mission in the first place. Perhaps the bitch was his great-great grandmother.

  God, he hated all the Immortals. Hated the fact that, with his half-breed blood, he’d never be anything more than a pawn in their games. Hated that his mother had abandoned her twin sons within hours of their births. Hated the evil that crouched inside him like a dragon roaring and battling for freedom every moment of every day since he’d made his first ash kill.

  He’d sucked the Tricani dry completely by accident. The power had risen under his flesh, felt like every individual blood cell in his body had suddenly exploded. The moment that Triscani Hunter had touched him, the power had flared to life. After that, who lived and who died had been a matter of will.

  And Raiden had always been stubborn. The Hunter hadn’t stood a chance. Within moments, the powerful
Hunter was nothing more than a pile of ash, and the Triscani Hunter’s evil soul had flowed into Raiden as naturally as breath, and stayed, cursing Raiden with both his power and his evil. He’d been the first, but not the last.

  That was the day he’d realized what Immortal bloodline he carried, the full nature of his power, and the full extent of his problem. He was doomed. A forbidden son. He was destined to join the ranks of the Triscani scourge he’d spent a century battling.

  He’d often wondered why their mother hadn’t just killed them. He and his brother were half-bloods, not full Immortal sons. She could have killed them both and no Immortal would have raised an eyebrow on their home world. He and his brother were abominations. Perhaps she’d hoped their father’s human blood, his human compassion, would be enough to save her boys.

  She’d been wrong.

  Raiden rose on shaky legs and stumbled to his quarters. Exhausted by the short trek, his legs collapsed and he sank onto his bunk. He no longer felt the need to hold his shoulders straight or have all the answers. Now he only had one question. Why? Why had his own brother doomed them all?

  Raiden grabbed an overturned crystal goblet from the floor and hurled it against the far wall. The act tore open the knife wound in his shoulder. The splintering crystal was his world, nothing but tiny pieces and worthless shards that had once been brilliant with purpose. Fresh blood trickled down his back, what was left of his lifeblood weakly following the flow of its earlier river. Mortality loomed. He’d bled too much from his brother’s attack. Despite his mother’s bloodline, between the poison and his wounds…he might actually die down here.