The Awakening (Immortals)

by Joy Nash

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he knelt before her, taking her hands in his and massaging gently. “Promise me that if…for some reason I don’t return to the castle…that you’ll let Mac take you to Annwyn.”

  “I…can’t promise you that.”

  She thought he would argue. Instead, he merely searched her eyes and nodded. After a brief hesitation, he eased the tattered remains of her evening gown from her bruised body, frowning at the gouges and scratches the Unseelies had left. She didn’t have the energy to help him. She lay limp as the tingling magic that accompanied his touch skittered over her skin, soothing her wounds.

  When she was naked, he lifted her from the sofa and lowered her gently into the tub. The heated water enveloped her tired body like a mother’s arms. She pulled her knees to her chest as he stripped off his clothes. Even in her exhausted state, she couldn’t help but respond to the sight of his naked body, broad and hard and already recovered from battle. He stood by the side of the tub, gazing down her.

  Tears stung her eyes. “Uni should never have given you such a ruthless sentence. She must be a monster to have done it.”

  “No. She’s my mother. Hard, but fair. It’s her right to discipline me as she sees fit.”

  “No loving mother would force a punishment like that on her son.”

  “Goddesses aren’t like human women. Uni gave me a task. My own arrogance brought about my failure. She passed sentence, and she will not be disobeyed.”

  “If you asked her—”

  A painful emotion passed through his eyes. “I would never insult her that way. Let us speak of it no further.”

  He joined her in the tub, settling behind her and pulling her between his open legs. He found a bar of soap and, working silently, lathered her back, her arms, her breasts. She winced when he grazed her bruised shoulder. He responded with a scowl, but in reality her wounds were already healing under his touch.

  Urging her to lean forward, he soaped and rinsed her hair. Then he turned his attention to her belly and legs, his fingers gliding and massaging her intimately. Christine shuddered as the familiar weakness overtook her, spreading through her veins like liquid fire.

  His erection prodded her buttocks, but he made no move to take care of his own needs. He didn’t speak, but she didn’t need words to understand his restraint. It was regret. For his lies, for his omissions, for what he couldn’t give her. For this bittersweet ending.

  She took the soap and turned to lather his chest and arms. When she finished, he rose and lifted her from the tub. He laid her, wet and dripping, on the bed. She lifted her arms in wordless invitation. He accepted. Lowering himself atop her, he eased slowly inside. She tilted her hips and took him in deeply.

  He loved her with a raw, silent need that touched the deepest part of her soul. She wrapped her legs around his body, holding him to her with all her strength. The only sound was their breath and the movement of flesh on flesh. Their magic and their souls circled, touched. As always, she held nothing back, but even still, there was an incompleteness about the union that hadn’t been present in their previous joinings. A loss of joy, of freedom.

  He groaned his release at the same time the bittersweet pleasure speared her. The denouement of their love was a slow, shuddering slide. When it ended, Christine lay spent in both mind and body.

  “Christine,” Kalen murmured.

  She opened her eyes. “Yes?”

  “Promise…if you never see me again…that you’ll remember me.”

  “Oh, Kalen.” She turned, buried her face against his chest, and let the tears come.

  Mac supposed he could ignore the call.

  The phone chimed a second time. A third. With a curse he snatched it from his belt before it switched over to voice mail. Niniane hated voice mail. And his mother had the power to make life very, very difficult for him.

  Especially if he had to live in Annwyn for eternity. There’d be no way to avoid her then. She’d hound him night and day, century in, century out. He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

  He flipped open the phone and grunted into it.

  “Mackie?”

  He winced. “Yes, Mum. It’s me.”

  “What took you so long? I thought you’d never answer.”

  Mac sent a glance skimming over what had once been de-Linea’s gallery showroom. The place was crawling with medics and parapolice. “It’s rather busy around here right now.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting so involved in human affairs, Mackie. It’s none of your business, and it’s not safe. Why, the things I’ve heard! Death magic, demons, Unseelie attacks. The human world is sliding straight into hell. If you get yourself trapped out there when the life magic’s gone…” She stifled a sob. “You could die, Mac. Die, do you hear me? If anything should happen to you…well, I’d just die along with you, Mackie.”

  He rather doubted that. “Look, Mum, no one’s going to die.”

  She gave an audible sniff. “I love you, Manannán.”

  Gods. “I love you too, Mum, but—”

  “Come home, Mac. Now. Lir…he agrees with me. He doesn’t need his only son getting himself killed.”

  Mac sighed. “Tell Da I’ll be home as soon as I can. I need to settle some things here first.”

  “You’re talking about that evacuation of yours, aren’t you? Well, if you ask me, it’s not worth risking your life over. Just give it up. All those Celtic creatures chose to live in the human world—why should you be the one to help them escape it?”

  “Mum—”

  “I swear, Mackie, you’re going to age me a millennium. Come home. Now.”

  “Not until everyone gets through.”

  “Everyone.” There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the line. “Mac, just who is everyone?”

  There was nothing for it. She’d find out soon enough—might as well prepare her for the worst. He tried to keep his tone casual. “Oh, you know—Sidhe, faeries, halflings, imps, sprites, brownies, and the like. Oh, and a few humans.”

  There was a period of dead silence on the other end of the line. A bad sign, in Mac’s experience. Niniane was rarely silent.

  “Humans?” she said at last. “Did you say humans?”

  He sighed. “Yes, Mum.”

  “Humans.” Disgust was thick in her voice. “Magical or mundane?”

  “Some of each, actually.” So sue him. Some of his best friends were human. His backup musicians, for one. His producer, for another. His agent…well, he hadn’t worked out whether his agent was entirely human, but he’d invited the bloke along anyway. And then there was his fan club…

  “How many?” Niniane asked at last.

  “About ten thousand,” he mumbled. “Give or take.”

  “What?”

  He hardened his tone. “You heard me.”

  “Ten thousand? Ten thousand humans! We’ve never had more than ten humans at one time in Annwyn, and believe me, that was ten too many!” A pause. “Does your father know about this?”

  “Yes,” Mac said tightly. “He’s agreed to accept whomever I bring to the Gates.”

  “Humph.” Niniane was silent as she digested this bit of information. “He didn’t say anything about it to me.”

  No shit. “Then you’ll just have to ask him about it, won’t you?” Preferably right now.

  “You can be certain I will. It’s one thing to have Lir grant Kalen’s little human witch an immortal soul. It’s quite another to have to have Annwyn overrun with mundanes. It’s obscene!”

  She rang off without saying good-bye. Mac stared at the phone. That had to be the first time Niniane had ever done that. His mother was bloody livid, and she hadn’t even heard the worst of it. If she found out he and Kalen were planning to confront Leanna and her Old One, Niniane would bolt through the Gates and drag Mac home herself. Come to think of it, if Christine knew, she’d probably do the same to Kalen.

  He shoved his cell back on its clip just as Kalen wi
nked into the far corner of the gallery. His friend looked grim.

  He started toward him. “How’s Christine?”

  Kalen grimaced. “Better. But none too pleased about me leaving her at the castle.”

  “She’d be even angrier if you’d told her what we were planning to do. You didn’t, did you?”

  “Of course not. She’d want to come with us.”

  Mac considered this. “Her magic is strong. She could help, I think. If she learned to take orders.”

  “No.” Kalen’s reply was swift and angry. “Absolutely not. I will not risk her. I need you to promise me, Mac, that you’ll take Christine to Annwyn with you…after…if I don’t make it.”

  “Hell, Kalen, you’ll take her yourself. I don’t intend to lose you. There’s no reason we can’t end this without you killing anyone. Just like we did here in the gallery.”

  Kalen shook his head. “Possible, but doubtful. Unseelies are one thing, a demon Old One is another entirely. You know that as well as I do.” His gaze passed over the wreckage of his gallery. Pools of blood marked where bodies had fallen. The human ones were gone, but unfortunately, the Unseelie corpses remained, stinking up the place. A tight knot of paradetectives, gas masks firmly in place, were examining the bodies.

  “So much destruction,” Kalen said tightly. “So many dead. And this is only a small part of what the human world has become. Death is taking over, Mac. Soon everything good will be gone.” He slammed his fist into the wall. “And what have I done to stop it? Nothing. I can’t sit on the sidelines any longer.”

  One of the human investigators, a tall, thin male with a face as pale as a vampire, detached himself from his colleagues and strode toward Kalen.

  “Excuse me, sir, are you the owner of this gallery?”

  “I am.”

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Kalen nodded.

  Mac cleared his throat. Fear for Kalen churned in his gut, but one look at the Immortal’s face told him arguments would be useless. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I want to check on the evacuation and set the spell to open the Gates before we get together for our little party at Leanna’s. That way, even if we run into trouble, the Gates will still open tomorrow at dawn.”

  Pain. Glorious pain. Leanna had to admit, it took sex to a whole new level.

  She let out a moan as the hot wax dribbled onto her areola, her back arching as the exquisite agony pierced her senses. Culsu loomed over her, her long fingers stroking a thick, black candle. The demon’s eyes were so flat and dead that Leanna’s stomach spasmed. In the past, Leanna had always been the dominant one—and had scorned her human lovers because of it. She’d never fully understood the pleasure she’d given them as she milked the souls from their bodies. Now she did.

  The candle withdrew. She tested the bonds at her ankles and wrists and found them secure. She couldn’t move, couldn’t defend herself. Culsu had laid a thick blanket of death magic over the circle, rendering even Leanna’s most potent spells null. She waited, trembling, for her mistress’s pleasure. And her own.

  Culsu’s regal form blurred. She was changing again. Leanna had discovered the demon could take on the shape of many, many creatures. Some shapes were better for fucking than others. The thrill of not knowing—and the certainty that whatever Culsu demanded, Leanna would have to give her—made Leanna tremble. Brimstone scalded her nostrils as the dark ash that was Culsu’s essence solidified before her eyes.

  A male ogre this time. Leanna’s hips arched upward. Squat and ugly, with flat features that seemed to have been pounded into its green face, an ogre’s visage would turn the stomach of any female—even his own kind. But an ogre’s cock—that was another matter altogether. Dougal’s cock, after all, was long and thick and lovely. And Dougal was only half ogre.

  Culsu thrust into Leanna’s body without preliminaries, and pounded her until she’d gone limp with the mingled pain and pleasure of the invasion. Afterward, Leanna’s bonds dissolved, but she didn’t move for a long time.

  “Rise,” Culsu commanded.

  Leanna’s eyes slit open. The demon had reverted to her usual form. Her black velvet gown clung to her shapely body like a second skin. Her hair writhed about her pale face.

  Leanna struggled to her feet. “Tonight…” she whispered.

  Culsu smiled. “Yes, tonight. The witch and the Immortal will be mine.”

  “And…my prize? The child?”

  “Immortality will be yours.”

  Leanna splayed her fingers on her stomach, smiling, imagining Kalen’s immortal seed growing inside her. Rounding her belly with the essence of a timeless soul. A soul from which she would suck immortal juices. She’d absorb its essence, as she’d soaked up Kalen’s for the last decade. But with one vital difference—the dark spell Culsu had taught her would allow Leanna to claim the child’s soul as her own. The babe would die, but that detail didn’t disturb her. The prize was too great.

  She would be Mac’s equal. No. Her power would be greater, because she would command the magic of both life and death. And once life magic was gone, Mac would be powerless. He’d flee to Annwyn, or die. Leanna would take her rightful place in a new world. One in which mortals would bow before her.

  And Leanna would live forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Damn it, she had to get off this island!

  Christine paced back and forth in front of her window, fuming. She had to stay focused on her anger—it was the only way to avoid facing the aching dread in her chest. Kalen’s eyes had been flat and emotionless when he’d kissed her good-bye, but his body had trembled with deep emotion.

  She was a fool. Up to the very moment he’d left her, she’d thought he was going to Leanna in order to make love to her. Stall her until Mac’s refugees had gone through the Gates. But once he’d disappeared, and Christine had had a chance to think things through without the distraction of his presence, she realized that wasn’t what Kalen intended at all. Because if that was the case, he wouldn’t have loved her as though it was the last time. He wouldn’t have asked her to remember him.

  He was going to battle. With Leanna, and maybe her Old One as well. He would fight to kill, and there was every chance he wouldn’t be coming back. Even if he won, he’d be banished to nothingness forever.

  And here she was, stuck on this island.

  She’d spent the last hours trying to find a way to the sea. If she could just reach the water, she could use her magic to find a way across. Her quest had been hopeless. There was just no way through the castle walls—no doors, no low windows, no breaches in the outer walls at all. She looked out over the waves. The mainland shore, about a half mile away, was teeming with activity. It seemed Kalen’s castle stood directly across the strait from the Gates of Annwyn. The portal would open fully at dawn, Kalen had told her. He expected her to cross, with or without him.

  Like hell she would.

  “We got a lovely basket of peaches in today, miss. And fresh cream.”

  She spun around, startled by the squeaky voice. It was the first time a brownie had dared speak to her—the creatures were incredibly shy. The female seemed dazed at her own boldness; she lowered her eyes and scuttled to the table with her tea tray.

  The import of the brownie’s words struck her. “The peaches just arrived?”

  The brownie looked up, startled. “Oh! Aye, miss. Just this morning. I was sore surprised. We’re all getting ready to leave, ye see.”

  “How did the supplies get here?”

  “Why, on one of the boats, of course. The mermen pulled them in.”

  “Boats?” Christine’s heart started pounding. “You mean there’s a dock somewhere?”

  “At the sea gate under the castle.” The brownie backed away, clearly unnerved by the length of her interaction with a human. The next instant, she disappeared through a crack in the paneling.

  Christine dressed quickly, in a simple sky-blue gown and low boots. A moment later, he
r tea tray untouched, she gathered her skirts and hurried down the corridor. Her mind skimmed through what she knew of the castle. The docks were under the castle. Where hadn’t she looked for an outlet to the sea? The dungeons. Presumably, prisoners would once have been brought to the castle by sea—maybe there was an entrance near Kalen’s office.

  She all but flew down the stairs to the great hall. Crossing in front of David and the other masterpieces with barely a glance, she let herself out the door to the main courtyard. The hidden door behind the rhododendrons was closed tightly. Opening it was a little tricky. Grabbing a cup from Kalen’s studio, she filled it with water from the fountain and placed it in front of the door. She dipped her fingers in the water and drew a rune on the door.

  Isa. Challenge.

  The lines of the portal glowed with soft blue light. In a sharp voice, she commanded the door to open. After a brief moment in which she thought the spell had failed, the false stone panel swung forward just enough for her to get her fingers behind it.

  She pulled it the rest of the way open and left it ajar to throw light on the stair beyond. Carefully, she made her way down the steep stair and through the passage. She reached the door to Kalen’s office—no light shone from under the door, but the muted whir of computers and air-conditioning gave her pause.

  She eased the door open and searched for a light switch, blinking into the sudden glare when she found it. Once her vision cleared, she made a beeline for the phone of Kalen’s desk and punched in Amber’s cell phone number.

  “We’re sorry, the mobile customer you are calling has gone beyond the calling area. Please try again another—”

  “Damn.” She pressed the flash button and tried Amber’s home phone.

  “This is Amber Silverthorne. Blessed be to all who walk in the Light. I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you’ll leave a message—”

  She waited impatiently for the beep. “Amber, this is Christine. Sorry I’ve been out of touch, I’ve had some…problems. Something big’s going down tonight. I think Kalen’s going after an Old One, and—” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I’ll…call you tomorrow, if I can.”