Things had been peaceful.
Until a human was called. That was how we did things; we trained a specific type of human female because it was the only way immortals could mate and the only way to make us stronger. Long story short, she stole Ethan’s heart while thawing Cassius’s, the Dark One currently staring daggers in my direction. And Cassius decided that he didn’t want to live the rest of his life like a jackass and fell in love with my adopted sister, Stephanie, another Dark One.
Technically, their love was forbidden.
But Sariel, one of the only archangels that wasn’t being held captive by the psychopath fallen one Bannik, had given his life for Cassius.
Thus, I tilted my head, nobody really knew what Cassius was or wasn’t. All I knew was that he was powerful, and he’d frozen my ass on more than one occasion.
I sighed.
The last thing I wanted to do was mate with a weak, smelly looking human who only knew about six percent of the hundreds of sexual positions I’d need her to know if she ever had any hope of pleasing me.
I wasn’t an asshole.
I just had needs.
Needs that had to be fulfilled. Otherwise, I’d be the one dying.
Wouldn’t Cassius just love that?
I was being hard on him.
But I was pissed.
The last thing I imagined myself doing was marching toward the proverbial immortal alter in my favorite Versace leather pants.
“In the car. Now,” Cassius commanded again. This time, his eyes beamed completely white. Chill, no need to get all archangel on my ass.
Stephanie gave me a hopeful grin while Mason nodded in my direction. It was as much of a thank you as I was going to get from the guy.
“Wish me luck.” I pushed past a stone-faced Cassius and started the long awkward trek to the compound.
Hope
A BEAD OF sweat trickled down my spine — the room was freezing, but I was sweating. Leave it to me to be doing the opposite of what was normal.
Could I die from fear? Would my body actually shake hard enough to spontaneously combust into tiny little Hope particles?
Because there was no logical explanation for the way my body burned.
It actually burned.
Like I was on fire.
Maybe it was some sort of test?
The girl to my right shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around her small frame. She looked like I felt.
A scared little girl who’d just been abandoned by her own parents.
At least she got kissed on the forehead.
Tears were shed.
Promises made.
I had none of that. But when you grow up without parents, you learn not to wish for things that weren’t. Besides, what was the point? It only left me sad.
And I hated being sad.
Just like I hated being scared.
And hot.
Seriously, why weren’t they sweating? I was just about to tug my sweater off when I heard footsteps.
I wasn’t sure what was worse, someone just bursting into the room or hearing the pounding of heavy steps as they got closer and closer.
And closer.
Scuffle, tap, scuffle, tap. Stomp, Stomp. What was stomping, stomp?!
With each step, my heart leapt.
And not in a good way.
It wasn’t like there was much hope for us. Our current predicament was bleak. Literally. We were in a windowless room, with a roaring fireplace on one side and a giant four-post bed on the other.
Right. A bed.
Pretty sure I knew what that was going to be for.
After all, that was why we were here.
Actually, that was why the girls on my left and right were here. I showed up to do what I always did on a Friday.
Water the plants.
Immortals and their plants.
Ever since Ethan had gotten married, his wife, a beautiful human who I’d met on a few occasions, had decided that the bridge between immortals and humans needed to be mended.
And apparently in her mind, that meant plants.
Or I guess, just decorating the immortal compound so that when humans visited it looked more jungle than dungeon.
It was still terrifying.
And honestly, in my mind, stupid. They could put a freaking Ferris wheel inside this place, and I’d still shiver a bit when I walked through.
Because I knew what went on.
On Fridays I watered plants.
On Saturdays, I cleaned the floors.
And on Thursdays.
I shivered again as the footsteps paused.
On Thursdays, I heard the screams of human women, the ones who were privileged to know about the immortals. They screamed for immortality, for bites, for attention.
And sometimes, the immortals took them up on it.
It was never pretty.
Mainly because females, or at least the ones of this variety, were stupid, not realizing that vampire bites only felt good if they wanted it to, or that werewolves couldn’t control their claws.
But really, the sirens were the most terrifying.
One in particular.
The most powerful one of his kind.
I prayed the immortal who needed to be mated was the nice wolf. The one with the shaggy hair and soulless eyes.
I’d take him any day over sex in boots.
Like Puss in Boots, only way more intimidating.
The large wood door creaked open.
The girl to my left started sighing as if she was about two seconds short of the best orgasm of her life, while the pixie on the right, the one who not a few minutes ago appeared like she was going to pass out — started moaning.
Um.
I winced.
This was what happened when you went to work early.
You got sucked into weird immortal mating rituals.
It wasn’t like I could say no this morning when The Dark One swept by me. He paused. The angel paused and then slowly turned, locking eyes with me and whispered. “What are you?”
Confused, mainly because it was rumored that if you spoke to him without being given permission, he’d snap your neck like a twig. I stared at him like a mute.
“Never mind.” He waved his giant hand in front of my face then crooked his fingers. “Come. I have a new job for you.”
I frowned then blurted. “Like a promotion?”
Dead. He could have killed me right there. Snapped his fingers and incinerated me. Instead, his steps faltered as he opened a large wooden door and motioned me inside.
“Sure. Let’s call it a promotion.”
I didn’t realize until after the fact that he’d put me in the stupid mating room.
The two gorgeous girls gave me perfectly bland smiles while they hugged their parent’s goodbye.
As for me, I got to stand there like I was actually worthy of being considered by an immortal.
My fingers were dirty from one of the plants I’d just recently moved to another room.
Dirt caked my nails.
Still hot, I took a deep breath just as the hooded figure walked in.
Dark leather pants wrapped around his muscular thighs. I sucked in a breath but only managed to get hotter as oxygen failed to enter into my body.
It was him.
The bad one.
Well, really, the good one.
Too good.
The type of good you stare at until your eyes start to cross and your heart threatens to thump out of your chest. Or the way chocolate tastes as it melts across your tongue only to attach its calorie fest to your thighs later.
Crap, I thought of thighs.
A visual of his thighs.
My thighs.
Everyone’s thighs.
Came into view.
Though mine were larger than the girls next to me.
I winced. Yeah, larger by a long shot.
Again, it was like standing next to two pixie fairies. Both had elf-like features
with blonde hair that matched the wisps of white I saw escaping from underneath his hood.
Another whimper was emitted from the girl to my left as she swayed toward him. More sweat dripped down my spine, making a lovely trail down the back of my plain black leggings.
“You.” His voice was intoxicating, like I’d never heard the word you before and was just now being given the pleasure of hearing it for the first time. Gulping, I took a step back, because something told me stepping forward would be a bad idea.
“Me?” Both girls answered swaying toward him.
The hood still covered half of his face, his smile unleashed a whole flutter of excitement from the girls who started to pant next to me.
If that’s what he needed to get his rocks off, he was going to be seriously disappointed.
I was too hot to be hot and bothered, if that made sense.
My knees were about ready to buckle.
I had sweat — everywhere.
I just wanted to sit down with a nice cold drink of water.
“Dance,” he whispered.
Both girls immediately moved around the room, leaping into the air in perfect ballerina like form. Was that part of the human training now? Dance lessons?
“Cry.” He didn’t move, just crossed his arms while they both burst into tears, eventually sobbing against one another. Either they were really good actresses, or he was just that powerful.
Which begged the question.
What was wrong with me?
“Indeed.” Alex mused. “What is wrong with you?” His blue eyes flashed as he glanced at my dirty flip-flops and slowly raised his gaze to meet mine. A look of disgust marred his near perfect features. “Other than the obvious, I mean.”
“The obvious?” I repeated. “I’m sorry I don’t—”
“Oh, believe me, I know you don’t understand. How could you?”
The girls continued to sob, while I held the immortal Siren’s pissed off glare; his icy blue eyes refused to look away.
I felt naked.
And afraid.
Only I’d take the TV show over what he was currently doing. It almost felt like he was… searching.
Me.
Inside my head.
“Stop that,” I snapped. “It feels funny.”
His eyes widened. “What did you just do?”
I shrugged. “I told you to stop.”
“I’m an immortal. I stop for no one.”
The heat in my body intensified until I felt like someone had set a fire near my feet and blown on it.
“Stop twitching,” he hissed.
“I’m really hot.” I swayed. “I can’t help it.” My vision blurred just as he braced me. “So hot.”
“Eh, I get that all day.”
“Me. I’m hot.”
“Slight exaggeration on your part.”
“Cry.” His eyes locked on mine once again.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to cry.”
“Laugh.”
“What is wrong with you?” I tried to jerk free, but the guy was a muscular demigod, or at least looked like one. Me struggling was probably as funny as watching a fly squirm in a spider’s web.
I accidently knocked his hood back as I pressed my fingertips to my forehead.
The girls behind me cried harder. “He’s so pretty!”
His smile widened and then disappeared altogether when he stared down at me. “Well? Don’t you agree? Aren’t I pretty?”
The way he twisted the words, made it sound like an insult. To call him pretty. And the last thing I wanted to do was die.
I mean I had plants to water.
My life sucked.
But it was still my life.
And as soon as I saved enough money for college, I was going to live it.
“I uh, no.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Did you just say… no?”
“I think so, yes. No. That depends.”
He held up his hand. “Leave us.”
I tried to walk away, but he held me firm in his grip as both girls sobbed and left the room, shutting the large oak door behind them.
A lock clicked, my heart dropped to my stomach.
“I’m Alex.” He still wasn’t releasing me.
“I figured.”
“How so?”
“You’re the last of the last male sirens.”
“And I’m not pretty?” Was he seriously that vain?
“Honestly?”
“Please.”
I took a deep breath. Good-bye, college. Good-bye, life. Air. Breathing. “When I think of pretty, I think of a flower or the sunset. Pretty is feminine. It speaks of things you’re told not to touch and places you see in a book.” I took a deep breath. “So no, I can’t say you’re pretty. But I can say you’re dangerously beautiful, the type of beautiful that hits a person in layers over and over again until every sense is assaulted with everything — you. Pretty wouldn’t do a siren justice, now, would it?”
His smile widened just as the door opened. Cassius poked his head in. “You’ve made your choice.”
“It seems, it was made for me before I even had the chance to say anything.”
“Funny how that happens.”
“Hilarious.” Alex sounded more irritated than amused.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Cassius closed the door and that damn lock sounded again, only this time it was several clicks followed by a thud and then a sucking noise, like we were in an air tight container and only had twenty-four hours worth of oxygen.
I gulped.
It? What was it? Why wasn’t I getting to leave? I wasn’t one of the human virgin sacrifices! Even if I was a virgin. I was… a botanist! Okay, a horrible botanist since I’ve killed more plants than I’ve kept alive, but not the point.
Alex lifted his hand into the air. The large metal locks slid across the door and clicked into place.
Again.
So basically at this point, I was in my own tomb.
Locked from the inside.
Lovely.
With one sweeping movement, he pulled the hood over his head and tossed the cape to the floor revealing a rock-hard eight-pack that could cut ice and long tresses of hair of so many colors I couldn’t focus on just one.
His eyes illuminated blue and then turned purple.
His beauty hit me full force, sending me to my hands and knees even though I don’t remember telling my body to fall in front of him.
“And now?” He teased. “Now what do you think?”
“I think…” My voice shook. “That I’m in trouble.”
“You would be right…”
Alex
TO SAY I was pissed.
To say I was angry
To say I was intrigued.
I couldn’t decide which emotion was going to win out, which made her all the more exciting. Sirens, for the most part, kept their physical appearance at a five. On a scale of one to ten, a five meant that you were clearly above average but not to the point that a person would literally sell a kidney and spleen in order to sleep with you.
No, the selling of body parts came at six.
Seven meant they were willing to commit a crime and sell body parts.
Eight was when they neared the wailing stage. I typically called it bartering, where they asked what they could possibly do in order to gain just one taste, anything, anything at all!
Nine was a rarity. I was a nine when I was tired, when I wanted a piece of ass from someone hot, and I didn’t want to make a big fuss over it. But a nine was dangerous because showing myself at a nine made it easier to wipe the individuals’ memories. Meaning I was more than likely cursing them to a life where they would never settle down because they’d be stuck comparing me to some sad human male with a beer gut, and he’d always fall short.
Even the Toms fell short.
Tom Brady.
Tom Hardy.
You get the picture.
In my entire existence, I’ve pulle
d a nine maybe four times. And each time I felt regretful — after all the sex had never been worthy of ruining some pathetic human’s chance at love.
And tens?
Tens weren’t done. To become a ten in front of a human would be the equivalent of a human discovering the sweetest tasting sin, the most physical and emotional ecstasy known over and over again. Add that in with good looks that made women, men, plants, atoms — you get the picture — full-on weep, and it just wasn’t done.
Never.
In fact, some might say it was forbidden.
I’d never been tempted.
Until five minutes ago.
I was currently at an eight, flirting with a ten, and she’d finally succumbed enough to fall to her knees, but when she glanced up, she blinked a few times then stood. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
The hell?
I did a double take, my eyes narrowing as she shuddered before me, but still, nothing. No weeping. No sudden burst of adoration.
Nine, here I come.
I exhaled as I allowed my hair to go pure gold and my eyes to turn a shade of amber that looked like a never-ending ring of fire around my blue iris. I released waves of energy that I could see pulsing from my body with each exhale, and I was aware that she was being assaulted with my scent, a mixture of rain, fresh air, and finally a deep sweet chocolate.
The most addicting scents known to mankind.
The most cleansing scents to a human.
Her eyes widened as she gulped and then squeezed them shut and covered her face with her hands, her knees knocked together as she swayed.
“Open your eyes, human!”
“I-I’d rather not,” she said in a weak voice.
“Now!” The walls of the room shook causing a shriek to explode between her lips, and suddenly she was moving towards me and launching her plump body into the air.
Directly onto mine.
Mine.
My body.
Without any other option, I braced myself for her impact. Not that she could physically harm me, it was more of a mental brace of, oh shit the woman might be plump, but she moved with the speed of a torpedo.
I caught her in my arms.
The shaking stopped.
Her hands clung to the front of my shirt, her breathing was unsteady, her body sweaty, hot, and curvy.
Dark Surrender (The Dark Ones Saga Book 3) Page 2