My Lord Immortality

by Alexandra Ivy

  “All is well, Amelia.” He held out his hand to reveal the Medallion, once again made whole. “Now, remain here. Gideon, Lucien, and I must take this to Nefri.”

  Opening her mouth to protest, Amelia stopped when she was firmly flanked by the two women, both wearing expressions as stubborn as her own.

  “We will be going as well,” Simone said in a soft but determined tone.

  Soft laughter echoed through the trees as Gideon and Lucien shared rueful glances. Then, with a shake of his head, the golden-haired rogue moved toward the frowning Sebastian.

  “Do not seek to argue, my old friend,” Lucien advised in a twinkling glance toward his wife. “A wise vampire avoids those battles that he is destined to lose. Especially when that battle is with the woman who shares his bed.”

  Sebastian appeared less than pleased by the thought of Amelia placing herself in danger, but with a sharp nod of his head he began weaving his way through the trees. Gideon and Lucien were swiftly following in his path. Amelia, along with her staunch allies, brought up the rear.

  In silence they moved back toward Nefri and the forbidding Valkier. Amelia shivered as the thick feeling of bleak hatred threatened to overwhelm her. In truth she had no desire to continue onward. What possible help could she be? She had no means to overcome the obviously crazed vampire or even to offer Nefri any assistance.

  But there was no chance that she was going to allow Sebastian to be in the presence of the deadly Valkier without her near. No matter how her heart might quail or her knees threaten to buckle.

  Grimly she fought to keep her feet moving forward, only halting when Lucien turned to hold up a warning hand. On cue, all three women crouched in the overgrowth and turned their attention toward the two vampires locked in their private war of wills.

  Amelia tightly clutched the hands of her companions as the three gentlemen continued forward, Sebastian taking the lead as he hid the Medallion in his clenched hand. Her heart nearly came to a full stop as Valkier abruptly spun to confront the intruders. Dear heavens, she had never seen eyes that glittered with such a lethal intent or features so lacking in emotion. She knew beyond a doubt that he would cut down his brothers without a hint of regret.

  He would destroy anything or anyone who stood in his path.

  “Ah, Sebastian, you have invited companions. What a charming surprise,” the gaunt-faced vampire drawled, his flat gaze flickering over the large figures stalking ever closer. “I did not dare to hope that I would have witnesses in my moment of glory. You shall be the first to bow to my authority.”

  “Never,” Sebastian snapped, not even flinching beneath the deadly glare.

  A cold laugh swept through the air. “Do not be any more of a fool than necessary, Sebastian. You were nearly bested by the pitiable Drake. I have command of the Medallion. You cannot hope to stand against me.”

  Sebastian never wavered. “I do not fear you, Valkier.”

  “You should.” The vampire lifted the heavy Medallion, smiling as the malevolent radiance filled the shadows. “There are few things that I shall enjoy more than ridding our world of such spineless wretches.” His eyes narrowed. “To know you have willingly bonded with mortals is nauseating. You have defiled all vampires with your animal lusts.”

  Amelia cried out in alarm, but before anyone could react, Nefri was standing in front of Sebastian, her expression stern.

  “No, Valkier. This must not happen. The Medallion was never meant to be used in such a manner.”

  The vampire gave a low snarl. “The power is mine. No one can deny me what is rightfully my destiny. You should have stood at my side, Nefri. Now you must be destroyed.”

  “Valkier . . .”

  Nefri’s plea went unheeded as the vampire abruptly unleashed his power. Amelia’s eyes widened in horror as the sickening glow flared out with a bluish glare. Sebastian and his companions were suddenly engulfed, disappearing in the foul light.

  “Sebastian, no,” Amelia breathed.

  Frantic to reach his side, she struggled to her feet only to be ruthlessly pulled back behind the bush by the women she had thought were her champions.

  “Wait,” Jocelyn whispered close to her ear. “Have faith in Sebastian.”

  Amelia trembled with fear. Faith? She did not desire to have faith. She wanted to rush forward and vanquish the horrid vampire with her bare hands. The women, however, refused to loosen their fierce grip, and she was forced to watch in helpless terror.

  The glow deepened, pulsing in an ominous fashion. Amelia moaned in despair, certain that the end was near; then, abruptly, Valkier’s eyes widened and a keening cry was wrenched from his throat.

  “No . . . it is impossible. No.”

  The cry became a bloodcurdling scream and in shocked disbelief, Amelia watched as his thin frame began to tremble with unnatural force. For what seemed an eternity, Valkier screamed in horrific agony, and just when Amelia became convinced that she could bear no more, the vampire began to blacken as if being burned from within.

  Nauseated by the ghastly scene before her, Amelia turned her head aside. Whatever her disgust for the arrogant, avaricious Valkier, she could not bear to witness his end.

  Battling the rising bile, it took long moments for her to realize that a deep, wounded silence had filled the copse. Indeed, she did not even sense Sebastian’s approach until she was being gently pulled into his arms.

  “It is over, Amelia,” he said in weary tones.

  With an effort she lifted her head to regard him with tear-filled eyes. “How?”

  It was Nefri who answered as she gently bent over the burned ashes that lay upon the damp ground.

  “It was the Medallion,” she said softly, her voice hoarse with regret. “The powers were intended to balance one another. To attempt to gain dominance caused the Medallion to turn itself against Valkier. He should have known. Above all, harmony must be maintained.”

  Shamelessly clutching Sebastian close to her, Amelia burrowed her head in his shoulder.

  “It is truly over?”

  “Yes, my love.” She felt his lips lightly brush the top of her hair. “And now I think it is time to go home.”

  Home. A slow, wondrous smile curved her lips as she breathed deeply of his warm, familiar scent. Yes. That is what she now possessed. A home. Complete with the man who would be at her side for all eternity.

  Epilogue

  The wedding of Sebastian and Amelia a fortnight later was intended to be a quiet affair.

  With her parents stiffly declining her invitation to join her in London, and her handful of acquaintances having turned their back on her the moment she had left society, Amelia had no one but William and Mrs. Benson to be her witnesses.

  She pretended that it did not matter. After all, she and Sebastian were already as one. His every thought, his every heartbeat, was a part of her. The ceremony was a mere formality; they were already indeed man and wife.

  That, and, of course, a prelude to the wedding night . . .

  With a philosophical determination, Amelia kept her thoughts centered upon that pleasant eventuality. She was desperately hungry for the moment Sebastian would at last carry her to the chambers he had refurbished so thoughtfully. His every touch had only intensified her searing desire for him.

  A desperation she easily sensed echoed within Sebastian.

  The knowledge that she had found her true mate was far more important than a gaggle of curious onlookers, she sternly reminded herself.

  Tossing herself into the effort to change the town house from a shrouded mausoleum to something resembling a home, Amelia managed to appear as happy and carefree as any bride-to-be. Even during the brief wedding ceremony and the drive back to their home, Amelia was certain that she had managed to conceal any hint of regret.

  It was a certainty that was destroyed the moment Sebastian happily carried her over the threshold and into the front parlor that was filled with guests. In amazement, Amelia had noted several unfamiliar faces th
at she was certain must be vampires, and, of course, Lucien and Gideon along with their smiling wives.

  Her eyes filled with happiness as she glanced up to meet her husband’s tender gaze.

  He had, of course, known all along. And with his usual efficiency had managed to provide precisely what she desired. Indifferent to the numerous eyes upon them, Amelia pulled his head downward to kiss him with all the love that flowed through her heart.

  Loud cheers and clapping at last brought her to her senses, and with decidedly warm cheeks she loosened her grip upon her husband to meet his glittering gaze.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. St. Ives,” he said softly.

  “What did you do with all the dust covers?” she teased as a profound sense of joy bloomed within her heart. The parlor had been one room she had not yet reached with her ruthless refurbishing.

  “Do not fear, my dear. I have kept them quite handy so we can replace them the moment we have rid ourselves of these bothersome guests.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “Replace them? Why on earth would we do that?”

  The silver eyes glowed with a decidedly wicked light. “Now that you are most certainly mine, Mrs. St. Ives, I intend to keep you far too occupied to concern yourself with entertaining.”

  Her laughter tinkled through the room. “Why, Mr. St. Ives, is that any way for a proper, always dignified scholar to behave?”

  “Well, as a scholar I have always forced myself to know all there is about a subject before coming to a conclusion.” His gaze lowered with an aching desire to the fullness of her lips. “You are going to require a most thorough and continuing examination, I fear.”

  “A most fascinating proposal,” she murmured softly.

  With a growl he pressed a quick, searing kiss to her lips before reluctantly lowering her to her feet.

  “Go enjoy your guests, my love,” he husked close to her ear, “before I have them thrown onto the curb.”

  She reached up to lightly touch his lean cheek. “Patience, Sebastian. We have an eternity together.”

  His gaze briefly lowered to where the amulet had been returned to the chain about her neck. A smile of pure contentment curved his full lips.

  “An eternity. Yes. That should perhaps be just long enough to show you how much I love you.”

  Hello from the desk of Alexandra Ivy!

  I wanted to take this opportunity to update my fabulous readers on what they can expect in the upcoming months.

  Coming in June 2013 will be the tenth book in the Guardians of Eternity series. Wow. I can’t believe it’s number ten! This will be Salvatore and Nefri’s book and I can’t wait to discover what you think of their passionate adventure. I’ve had so many wonderful fans asking for Santiago’s story that I wanted to make sure it was special.

  I also have a new series that I’m really excited to tell you about. The series is tentatively called The Sentinels and will start off in a short story collection coming May 2013. These novels will be different from my Guardians, with the stories revolving around people who are “gifted” with special abilities. They’re known as high-bloods and will include witches and psychics and necromancers, as well as the Sentinels. The Sentinels are men and women who are trained warriors who protect the high-bloods when they travel away from their safe-house called Valhalla, or track those high-bloods who are a danger to the mortal population.

  In the short story you’ll meet Angela Brown, a young graduate student who is a genius in genetics, and Niko, the hunter who is sent to protect her from a high-blood who is convinced that Angela can rid her of her mutations. I hope you’ll enjoy the Sentinels, they’ve been such a pleasure to create!!

  Lastly, I wanted to thank my readers! As always you’re the reason I continue to write. Your encouragement and loyalty is truly a source of inspiration. You rock!

  Happy Reading!

  Alex

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of

  the next book in Alexandra Ivy’s

  Guardians of Eternity series,

  DARKNESS AVENGED,

  coming in June 2013!

  Prologue

  The Legend of the Veil

  The myths surrounding the creation of the Veil were a dime a dozen, and worth even less.

  Some said it was the work of angels who had become lost in the mists of time.

  Others said that it was a rip in space made during the big bang.

  The current favorite was that Nefri, an ancient vampire with a mystical medallion, created the Veil to provide a little slice of paradise for her clan, the Immortal Ones. According to this particular rumor, it was whispered that on the other side there was no hunger, no bloodlust, and no passion. Only an endless peace.

  It was a myth that Nefri, as well as the Oracles that sat on the Commission (rulers of the demon-world) were happy to encourage.

  The truth of the Veil was far less romantic.

  It was nothing more or less than a prison.

  A creation of the Oracles to contain an ancient mistake that could destroy them all . . .

  Chapter I

  Viper’s Vampire Club

  On the banks of the Mississippi River south of Chicago

  The music throbbed with a heavy, death metal bass that would have toppled the nearby buildings if the demon club hadn’t been wrapped in spells of protection. The imp magic not only made the large building appear like an abandoned warehouse to the local humans of the small Midwest town, but it captured any sound.

  A damned good thing since the blasting music wasn’t the only noise that would freak out the mortal neighbors.

  Granted, the first floor looked normal enough. The vast lobby was decorated in a neoclassical style with floors made of polished wood, and walls painted a pale green with silver engravings. Even the ceiling was covered with some fancy-assed painting of Apollo on his chariot dashing through the clouds.

  Upstairs was the same. The private apartments were elegantly appointed and designed with comfort in mind for those guests willing to pay the exorbitant fees for a few hours of privacy.

  But once admitted past the heavy double doors that led to the lower levels all pretense of civilization came to an end.

  Down in the darkness the demons were encouraged to come out and play with wild abandon.

  And no one, absolutely no one, could play as rough and wild and downright nasty as demons.

  Standing in the shadows, Santiago, a tall exquisitely handsome vampire with long, raven hair, dark eyes, and distinctly Spanish features allowed his gaze to skim over his domain.

  The circular room was the size of a large auditorium and made of black marble with a series of tiers that terraced downward. On each tier were a number of steel tables and stools that were bolted to the marble. Narrow staircases led to a pit built in the middle of the lowest floor and filled with sand.

  The overhead chandeliers spilled small pools of light near the tables, while keeping enough darkness for those guests who preferred to remain concealed.

  Not that there was a need for secrecy in the club.

  The crowd was made up of vamps, Weres, and fairies, along with several trolls, an orc, and the rare Sylvermysts (the dark fey who’d recently revealed their presence in the world). They came to fight in the pit for a chance at fleeting glory. Or to indulge in the pleasures his various hosts and hostesses offered, whether it was feeding or sex.

  None of them were known for their modesty.

  Especially when they were in the mood to celebrate.

  Santiago grimaced, his frigid power lashing through the air to send several young Weres scurrying across the crowded room.

  He understood their jubilation.

  It wasn’t every day that an evil deity was destroyed, the hordes of hell turned away, and Armageddon adverted.

  But after a month of enduring the endless happy, happy, joy, joy his own mood was tilting toward homicidal.

  Well, perhaps it was more than just tilting he grimly conceded as a table
ful of trolls broke into a violent brawl, knocking each other over the railing and onto the Weres seated below.

  The domino effect was instantaneous.

  With infuriated growls the Weres shifted, tearing into the trolls. At the same time the nearby Sylvermysts leaped into the growing fight, the herb-scent of their blood swiftly filling the air.

  His massive fangs ached with the need to join in the melee. Perhaps a good, old-fashioned beat-down would ease his choking frustration.

  Unfortunately, his clan chief, Viper, had trusted him to manage the popular club. Which meant no extracurricular bloodbaths. No matter what the temptation.

  Buzz kill.

  Watching his well-trained bouncers move to put an end to the fight, Santiago turned his head as the smell of blood was replaced by the rich aroma of plums.

  His lips curled as the violence choking the air was abruptly replaced by a heated lust.

  Understandable.

  Tonya could make a man drool at a hundred paces.

  Stunningly beautiful with pale skin and slanted emerald eyes, the imp could also claim perfect curves and a stunning mane of red hair. But Santiago hadn’t chosen her as his most trusted assistant because of her outrageous sex appeal.

  Like all imps, she possessed a talent for business and the ability to create powerful illusions. She could also hex objects, although Santiago made sure that particular talent was only used on the humans who patronized the tea shop next door. Most demons were immune to fey magic, but Tonya had royal blood and her powers were far more addictive than most.

  His loyal customers would never return if they suspected he allowed them to be enthralled by the beautiful imp.

  Wearing a silver dress that was designed to tempt rather than cover, she came to a halt at his side, a smile curving her lush lips even as her shrewd gaze monitored the hosts and hostesses that strolled through the room offering their services.