The Awakening (Immortals)

by Joy Nash

  “Christine,” he said, keeping his voice deliberately calm. “I’ve lived almost three millennia. I’ve lost count of how many times humans have predicted the end of the world. It’s never happened. And it’s not going to happen now.”

  Her hands went to her hips, elbows sharply pointed outward. The pose made the neckline of her too-large shirt gape. His gaze flicked involuntarily to her cleavage.

  She glanced down, scowled, and yanked the lacings closed. “Could you please stop ogling me long enough to have a meaningful discussion?”

  “Since there’s no such activity going on,I believe I’m entirely within my rights to take pleasure in looking at you.”

  She made a gesture of frustration. “Have you heard anything I’ve said? Your brother is out to destroy the world!”

  “No. The Immortals were created to fight death magic. Tain loved humans more than any of us. He protected your race out of love, not duty. It’s beyond belief he’d harm even one of you, let alone destroy the world.”

  “Maybe not if he were in his right mind,” Christine persisted. “But don’t you see? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Tain’s not the same person you knew. He hasn’t been for a long time. Kalen, your brother is insane.”

  “Impossible. Immortals can’t get ill—physically or mentally. We can’t go insane.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe—Adrian didn’t believe it at first, either. But he knew something had happened to Tain. He disappeared right here, in the Highlands. During the Immortals’ defeat of the Unseelie Host.”

  “I was at that battle,” Kalen said with a frown. “I wasn’t aware of Tain encountering any difficulty.”

  “Adrian and Tain were separated from the other Immortals, and from each other. Adrian found a witness who’d seen Tain leaving the battleground with a demon. He searched for centuries, but Tain had just…vanished.” She drew a breath and Kalen couldn’t keep from dropping his gaze to her chest. “Didn’t you think it was odd when Adrian and Tain didn’t return to Ravenscroft after the Unseelies were banished?”

  His stomach knotted. Christine had no idea what his life had been like in the century after that battle. Gods willing, she never would. “I didn’t think it odd because I didn’t return to Ravenscroft myself.”

  And he was sure as hell Adrian had never bothered looking for him. Kalen and his oldest brother mixed about as well as oil and water. But Adrian had loved Tain. He would have searched to the ends of the earth for their youngest brother.

  “Just recently, Adrian and Amber discovered what had happened to Tain. The demon who lured him off the battlefield was an Old One known to Adrian as Kehksut. Kehksut imprisoned Tain for centuries, assuming a male form to completely flay the flesh from Tain’s body, then shifting into female form and healing him with sex. Three days later, Kehksut would start the torture cycle all over again. After seven hundred years of that treatment, Tain’s mind just snapped. Now Tain’s Kehksut’s most potent weapon.”

  “How so?” The tale was too fantastic. What demon could hold an Immortal captive for so many centuries?

  “Tain’s formed an intense emotional and physical attachment to his captor. He believes Kehksut loves him. Tain’s so damaged he wants to die, and the demon has promised to help him. The only way that can happen is if all life magic in the human world is destroyed. That’s Tain’s goal. The horrors and atrocities going on all over the world, the rise in death magic and death animations—it’s all Tain’s doing.” She paused, her face pale and deadly serious. “You have to believe me.”

  He didn’t want to. The tale was too horrific. But if Adrian thought Tain mad…no matter what Kalen’s feelings about his oldest brother, the fact remained that Adrian was fanatical about protecting the human race. If Adrian believed Tain was dealing in death magic, then it was probably true, fantastic as it seemed. But even so, there was nothing Kalen could do about it. Not while still serving the sentence he’d earned seven centuries ago.

  “It hardly matters what I believe,” he told her.

  “Of course it does! The human world needs you desperately. It’s not too late—Adrian has a plan.”

  “Yes,” he said sardonically. “Adrian would.”

  She gave him a piercing look. “There’s no love lost between you two, is there?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “But he’s your brother! You were raised together in Ravenscroft.”

  “Yes. And believe me, there was no place in Ravenscroft where any of us could go to escape Adrian’s arrogance. He appointed himself leader of the Immortals. Handed out assignments as he saw fit and demanded our obedience. If he wanted any of us at a battle, we had to be there or face his wrath.”

  “And you resented that?”

  Resented it? Adrian’s conceit had cost Kalen his honor. His people. He turned on her. “My duty was to the line of Tyrrhenus. Before all else. Adrian didn’t respect that. He thought I should limit my involvement with Uni’s chosen ones, guarding them only from physical threats. He saw no merit in art, in culture, in engineering and government. He insisted I answer his calls, even if it meant neglecting my people. He was an arrogant bastard then, and I’m sure he’s still one now. A man never really changes.”

  “You have,” Christine said quietly.

  Her uncanny perception rattled him. The guilt and humiliation he’d endured during the last seven centuries had changed him so profoundly he hardly recognized himself as the young, brash warrior he’d once been. He glanced sharply at Christine. Could it be that she knew of his disgrace? She’d scried into his present—maybe she’d looked into his past as well. It was a rarer skill, but one some human witches possessed.

  His stomach churned, until he realized how unlikely that was. If Christine knew his past, she never would have come so far seeking his help. The revelation did nothing at all to soothe him.

  “What makes you so sure I’ve changed?” he asked. “You didn’t know me—before.”

  The long blue lock of hair had escaped her braid. She shoved it behind her ear before answering. “I know what you were. And I can see what you’ve become. The two are very far apart.”

  Her criticism angered him. “How I live my life is none of your business. All you need to know is that Tyrrhenus’s line is extinct, and I am no longer a warrior.”

  She was silent for a long moment. “You cared very much for your people, didn’t you?”

  He shut his eyes briefly. “Not enough, obviously, or they would still be alive.”

  “Help the people who are still alive, Kalen. They need you.”

  “No.”

  “Then help yourself. Because if life magic’s completely destroyed, it won’t be only Tain who dies. You and the rest of the Immortals will die, too.”

  Christine thought at first Kalen hadn’t heard her. He didn’t move,didn’t give any acknowledgement of her words. If her statement had startled him,he gave no indication.

  It was an incredible assertion, she knew. Immortals were just that—Immortal. Impossible to kill. Except that magical rules often had loopholes, and Amber had told her the Immortals weren’t completely indestructible. Kalen and his brothers drew their essence from living magic. Once it was completely gone, their souls would shrivel and their bodies expire.

  “Tain wants to die,” she said simply. “And if his death leads to the death of his brothers, he’s too insane to care. Please. At least talk to Adrian about it.”

  “I’ve no desire to talk to Adrian.”

  “Oh, that’s very mature of you.” Goddess. She hadn’t counted on landing in the middle of a three-thousand-year-old sibling spat. “Look, will you just call him? Where’s your phone? I can reach him on Amber’s cell—”

  “I dislike phones.”

  “Fine. We can e-mail—”

  “I dislike computers even more.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. “You mean you don’t have a phone or computer?” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Or even
electricity?”

  “Have you seen any modern conveniences in the castle?”

  “No.” She hadn’t. Not a single lightbulb, outlet, switch, or anything at all attached to an electrical cord. “Well, that’s no problem for you, is it? Just pop on over to the mainland and—”

  “I said no.”

  “Kalen, don’t be stubborn. Your life is in as much danger as mine.”

  He was silent for a long moment, studying her. She searched his eyes, looking for hope. But his expression had closed completely.

  “Suppose,” he said at last, “I did help your coven.” He held up one hand as she sucked in a breath of surprise. “I’m not saying that I will,only that I want to know more of this plan of Adrian’s. What is my hardheaded brother plotting?”

  “Adrian and the Coven of Light are assembling an army. The Immortals and as many human witches and living magic creatures as we can recruit. We’ll go to battle against Tain and the Old One. Once Kehksut is destroyed,Adrian will take Tain to Ravenscroft. He thinks Tain will heal there.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then I guess…he’ll have to be restrained somehow.”

  An ugly light appeared in Kalen’s eyes. “Imprisoned, you mean. For all eternity.”

  “I…I suppose so. If he’s still a danger,he’d have to be.”

  “He’d be better off dead.”

  Christine swallowed. An eternity in confinement was a grim sentence, but what choice would there be? “He’d be comfortable. And well cared for.”

  Kalen’s voice was flat. “Shackled like a dog, forever.” A dangerous note crept into his voice. “This is Adrian’s plan? This is the cause he wants me to fight for?”

  “But what else can we do?”

  “Let Tain have his way. Let him die.”

  Christine stared. “And allow death magic to take over the world?”

  “Will it really be so different than it is now? Look around you—humanity has been bent on destroying this world for over a century. Blasting each other to bits, pouring radioactivity into the air, dumping poison into water, earth, and air. Heating up the atmosphere. Forests have been raped, animals and the weaker living magic creatures turned out of their homes. You have no idea what a natural paradise this world was three thousand years ago. Humans hardly need Tain in order to destroy it. They’re doing a fine job of it all on their own.”

  “All that is true,” Christine said. “But there’s still a lot of good in the world. It may not make the newspapers, but it exists. Truth, beauty, affection…” Her gaze fell on the painting of the furtive lovers. “Surely you must believe that, too, or you wouldn’t have collected all these depictions of human love.”

  “Sex,” he corrected. “Human sex. I collect scenes of physical fulfillment. There’s no such thing as human love. Lust, greed, insecurity—that’s what brings humans together. I’m not saying sex isn’t pleasurable, even magical at times, but what humans call true love is an emotion that can’t endure. In the end, the lust and greed that brings lovers together drives them apart.”

  “Not always. Sometimes love is endless.”

  Their gazes met. Held. He lifted a brow. “You know this from experience? You’ve experienced a great love, one with no lies, no deceptions?”

  Shaun. She tried to breathe through the sudden tightness in her chest.

  Kalen must have read the answer in her eyes, because his answering nod was grim. “I thought not.”

  “Just because I haven’t experienced true love doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  “Perhaps not. But consider this—I’ve been alive for almost three millennia and have yet to encounter a human love worthy of the many masterpieces created in its honor.”

  “But what about your own life? Think of that, if nothing else.”

  “I assure you,I shall. I have no intention of dying. Now,my love,if you’ll excuse me,I have some business to attend to.”

  Business? What business could be more important than saving the world?

  Before she could ask, he gestured toward the open room. “Please. Feel free to linger over any artwork that interests you.”

  She stood motionless for several seconds after his footsteps faded. She toyed with the idea of running after him, but really, what good would that do? He’d only refuse her again.

  With a sigh, she sank down on the fur-covered, penislegged couch. So far, her quest was a disaster. Yes, she’d found Kalen, but had she convinced him to join the Coven’s cause? No. Her arguments and talk of Adrian had only angered him.

  But she wasn’t giving up yet. She couldn’t believe all was lost. Not when Kalen held human art in such high esteem. He’d gone to great lengths to safeguard Europe’s artistic heritage. Surely his soul was not so hardened as he would have her believe.

  She’d seen a hint of his vulnerability last night. His soul had been reaching for something he needed desperately. Exactly what that was, she didn’t know. But Christine, who could never bear to see anyone in pain, had tried her best to fill that emptiness, to the point where she’d given up all control over her magic. And she knew she would do it again, if he asked.

  Who was she kidding? How could she convince Kalen to fight his brother? She had no leverage, and no defense against her own overwhelming desire for him. As well as no way to contact anyone for help.

  What in the name of the Goddess was she going to do?

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Miss?”

  The clipped syllable, barked in a harsh female tone, nearly caused Christine to jump out of her skin. She spun around. A squat, plump, singularly ugly woman stood at the top of the tower room stairs. She was garbed in a simple gray gown topped by a snowy white apron. Her enormous bustline jutted forward like the prow of a ship. A fringe of dull, wispy hair protruded from the edges of her white mobcap, framing small black eyes, a bulbous red nose, and a pointed, warty chin. The features were set in an expression of intense disapproval.

  She was too short to be human, too large to be a faerie, pixie, or brownie. Coarse hair curled in tufts on the backs of the woman’s hands and fingers, and again on the tops of her bare feet and toes. Christine stared for a long blank moment before hazarding a guess as to what her unexpected companion was. A halfling? Maybe, but her skin was far too gray.

  “Th’ master sent me.” Her tone made it clear there were better things she might have been doing. Her accent was such thick Scots that Christine had to run the words through her brain twice before deciding on their meaning.

  “The master? Do you mean Kalen?”

  “Aye, and what other master might ye be expecting? Of course Kalen, ye eejit. He said ye’d be hungry and thirsty and wantin’ to break yer fast.”

  At the suggestion of food, Christine’s stomach growled. “Oh!” she said, covering her midriff with her palm. “I guess he was right.”

  The woman didn’t smile. “Come along, then.” She turned and waddled off down the dark stair, moving far more quickly than Christine might have supposed she could.

  She hurried to catch up. “Are you the one who takes care of things here?”

  “Aye,” the woman said, not stopping, or even glancing back. “I’m the master’s housekeeper.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Pearl.”

  “Mine’s Christine.”

  No answer.

  Okay. “Where are we going?”

  Pearl did glance back then. “To the kitchens. Where else might I be takin’ ye to eat?”

  “Where else indeed,” Christine murmured. She didn’t attempt further conversation as she followed Pearl down the stairs to the great hall. Keeping to the edge of the room, the housekeeper disappeared through an arched opening.

  The smell of fresh-baked bread and strong coffee drew Christine after her. The odors were punctuated with bangs and squeals and a good deal of high-pitched chatter in a language she couldn’t guess at. It seemed as though Kalen had a good number of servants. She hurried down another stee
p staircase. It gave out into a long room with a low vaulted ceiling and whitewashed walls.

  Windows marched down one side of the room, looking into a green courtyard. Candles in sconces added to the illumination. A long plank ran the length of the space, which also included a black iron stove, brick and clay ovens, and shelves stacked with cookware and utensils. It took less than a second for Christine’s eyes to absorb the scene—in that same second, the chatter and laughter she’d heard on the stair ceased.

  Silence fell as a tribe of small, leathery-brown creatures turned startled eyes on Christine. Male and female, they were naked except for scraps of cloth tied about their hips and breasts. Some had been kneading dough; others had been chopping vegetables or beating eggs. One worked a butter churn.

  The creatures froze for three long heartbeats, their eyes wide with shock. Then, with a collective squeak, they dropped whatever utensils they held and scattered, rushing for the edges of the room. An instant later they were gone, although what magic they’d used to evaporate so quickly and completely, Christine could only guess at.

  “Brownies?” she asked.

  Pearl grunted. “Aye, and a few imps and sprites. Troublesome little beasties. Skivers, the lot of them.” But it seemed to Christine the housekeeper’s tone was laced with grudging affection.

  “They work here?”

  “When the mood strikes them. When it doesn’t, it’s the devil’s own work to collect them.” She turned accusing eyes on Christine. “I hope ye’re happy. Now that ye’ve gone and scared them it’ll be a great stramash luring them back afore supper.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Aye, but it’s done now, innit?” Waddling to the stove, she snatched up an oven mitt and pulled a cast-iron pot off the fire. “Sit yerself down. Kalen said to feed ye, so feed ye I will. Though if ’twere up to me, I’d let ye starve.”

  Well. There wasn’t much Christine could say to that. But she was hungry, so she sat on one of the worktable stools, angling her knees sideways to avoid knocking them against the low tabletop. Pearl set an enormous bowl of porridge, cream, and berries in front of her, along with a generous mug of steaming coffee.