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Enchanted Immortals Series Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Novella

Page 27

by C. J. Pinard


  What had everyone’s attention, however, was Bryan. He wasn’t smoking, nor was he even turning red. He smiled broadly breathing a sigh of relief. Watching Smith’s skin burn up so fast had freaked him out more than a little.

  Pascal let out an excited yelp. He picked up Angel and kissed her, spinning her around.

  “You did it, baby! You did it!” she said to him. She planted a passionate kiss on his cold mouth, using tongue and making all sorts of noises that grossed out the rest of the room.

  Joshua watched them intently, then said flatly, “Congrats, boss. Looks like you did it.”

  Mike knocked on the kitchen window and beckoned them to come back inside.

  The room was filled with high-fives and exhilaration as everyone came back inside. The only unhappy one was, of course, Smith.

  “What in the hell was that!” Smith said out of breath, running to the refrigerator for ice.

  “What that was, was nothing short of a miracle, mate!” Pascal answered.

  Smith sat on the couch, sulking, and continued putting ice on his face, arms, and chest. Pascal looked at him, then turned his attention back to Bryan.

  “How do you feel, lad? Tell me everything you’re feeling.” Pascal was smiling and couldn’t keep the excitement to himself, bouncing lightly from foot to foot. He walked over and placed his hands on Bryan’s skin. “You’re not even warm!”

  Bryan looked around the room at all the smiles. He was freaked out by all the excitement and attention. He clearly could see this was a big deal, and logically, he understood that this was obviously a monumental breakthrough in the vampire world. But he felt no different than he had this morning. “I don’t know what to tell you, Pascal. The sun didn’t hurt me. It was like I could feel the sun’s warmth on my skin that seems to be so cold all the time now. However, I think it may have been my mind feeling the warmth and not really my body. But there was definitely no pain.”

  Angel said, “I have an idea. Go back into the yard again and stay out there for like five whole minutes.”

  Bryan shrugged and walked back out. It was like having a new vampire toy for them to play with. After five minutes, he came back in. They touched his skin, no warmth, nothing. They made him go back out again, this time for thirty minutes.

  “Could I at least get a book or something to read?” Bryan asked.

  Mike glanced around the room, then walked over to the coffee table. He tossed him one of Joshua’s Playboy magazines that was sitting there.

  Joshua watched his magazine being tossed then turned his attention to the back window and asked to no one in particular. “Are we sure he’s even a vampire? I mean, maybe the turning didn’t work at that freaky-ass place we went to.”

  “Worked for me,” Smith mumbled from the couch. His red skin already fading to pale, blisters healing by the minute.

  Pascal turned to Matt the bouncer. “Go out there and feel if he has a pulse. Do you know how to do that?”

  Matt grinned and spit a line of brown dip into a Styrofoam cup he was holding. “Yeah, man, I was an EMT before I got the job working for you.”

  He set his cup down and walked out to where Bryan was standing. “Hold still.”

  “Um, okay,” Bryan replied.

  Matt put two fingers to Bryan’s carotid artery and closed his eyes. He stayed that way for a minute then removed his hand. He put his hand to Bryan’s wrist and did the same.

  As he walked back into the house, he shook his head. “Naw, man, no pulse. Skin is ice-cold too, even though he’s standing in the sun. Freaky!”

  “I guess that answers that question,” Joshua said, shaking his head.

  ∞∞∞

  Newcastle, England – 1814

  The funeral for Emma was gut-wrenching. Her parents and three sisters were all in attendance. Jonathan was just… numb. He sat in the town’s little church, plunked in the front pew, and stared blankly at the pine box containing his wife’s body perched near the altar. He didn’t hear a word the minister had said, and barely remembers the line of mourners who offered condolences at the wake.

  As he sat in a chair at his in-laws’ home, his former father-in-law came to sit next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Jonathan, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I know you loved our daughter as much as we did.”

  Jonathan was practically catatonic. He didn’t even bother to lift his eyes to his father-in-law, instead keeping his unblinking, glazed glare locked straight head. “I couldn’t save her, Don. All this vigor, this incredible, superhuman strength – this gift – and it’s done me not a damn bit of good for those I love.”

  Don shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, Jonathan. You have to work; you couldn’t be with her every minute.”

  Jonathan said nothing.

  Just then, Grace walked up to him, her green dress flowing around her like a mist. Jonathan could see lightning wildly flashing in her green eyes.

  Looking at her, fresh tears of guilt sprung to his eyes.

  Grace narrowed her eyes at him and slapped him clean across the face. “You bastard! You were meant to protect her!”

  He didn’t even flinch, but he did look at her with his red-rimmed eyes. “I know I deserved that.”

  “Gracie!” her father scolded. “That was uncalled for, young lady!”

  Don rose and escorted his eldest daughter by her thin arm out of the room.

  Jonathan and his children shuffled outside to their horse and carriage. It was a quiet ride toward home through the forest – the forest where he had first met and rescued Emma – and nobody said a word. The air in the carriage was thick and somber.

  A rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs heard by his sensitive ears caused Jonathan to pull his heavy head up from the spot on the floor he was staring at. “Driver, what was that?”

  The driver shook his head, even though Jonathan couldn’t see him. “I’m not so sure, sir. Probably some animals.”

  Jonathan’s mind immediately thought of Fae. “Stop the carriage.”

  “Sire?”

  “You heard me!” Jonathan yelled.

  The driver yanked on the reins. As the carriage came to a stop, he ordered the children to stay inside as he stepped out, pulling his knife from its sheath on his belt and jumped down from the curtained doorway of the carriage.

  A quick look around the forest revealed what Jonathan knew to be true: Danger. Before him stood two wolves. They were motionless, baring teeth, low growls emitting from them.

  Something close to a smile curved on Jonathan’s mouth. “You want to play, do you?”

  The two beautiful gray wolves began to precisely circle Jonathan, as if teasing him.

  Playing with their food.

  Jonathan thought the wolves expressed way too much control and methodical cunning to be just wolves. He tossed his hunting knife from one hand to the other, and in a low, threatening voice, he said through clenched teeth, “If you’re shifters, you better shift back to what you were, or you will be horribly sorry you ever came near my carriage and my family.”

  The wolves froze as if they understood him. Then they almost comically looked at each other, then back to Jonathan.

  Jonathan was thinking of a million ways he was going to kill these wolves, and he reveled in it. Rage and sorrow bubbled up inside him like a thousand red-hot pokers jabbing at his guilty conscience.

  The damned animals had definitely picked the wrong person to screw with today.

  Without warning, both wolves lunged at Jonathan, teeth gleaming in the moonlight, drool swinging from their cruel jaws. As the first one came at him, Jonathan lifted an incredible arm and swung it, batting the animal away like a fly. As he did so, his knife went skittering off in the crunchy leaves nearby. The unlucky wolf landed hard with a yelp some ten feet away.

  The second was rewarded with a wrestling match. As it landed on top of Jonathan, he fought fiercely with it. He had it by the neck and began to squeeze as its drool was dripping onto Jonat
han’s face. In a preternatural motion, Jonathan reached up with his other hand and twisted the wolf’s head with a sickening crack, then tossed the animal away as if it were a small housecat.

  Just then, the other wolf shook off its injury and darted at Jonathan. He spotted his knife and rolled quickly to retrieve it. Crawling on his belly, Jonathan grabbed the dagger, and just as the wolf lunged at him, he reached up and stabbed it in the chest. It let out a pitiful yip and landed on its side.

  Jonathan got up and walked over, slowly yanking the knife out with a wet slurping sound, and as he did, the wolf slowly morphed back into a naked woman. She was bleeding from between her small breasts, a slow death rattle emanating from her mouth as she breathed her last. Jonathan kicked her in the head, and she was gone.

  He looked over to where the other wolf had fallen – no wolf was there, but instead a man, also nude. Even though Jonathan knew he was already dead, he went over and removed the shapeshifter’s head with a quick cracking twist. With a seething ire fueled by grief, he tossed the head football-style deeper into the woods. It hit a tree with a thud and rolled down the trunk in a bloody trail, coming to rest on the tree’s roots.

  Jonathan sneered, wiping the wolf’s drool from his face with the back of his hand, and re-sheathed his buck knife.

  “Father?”

  Jonathan whirled around to see his teenaged son poking his head out of the carriage door.

  To say the carriage driver looked mortified would be a gross understatement. Both Ben and the driver stood slack-jawed, their gazes fixed on Jonathan, desperate for answers.

  Jonathan shook his head and simply said, “Son, we need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 14

  ∞∞∞

  Portland, Oregon – Present Day

  Joshua had seen quite enough today. He lay on his bed, ankles crossed and his fingers laced behind his head. He was in his room, brooding over the events of the day. He could clearly hear Angel and Pascal engaged in their boisterous, annoying sex activities. He wished it was him.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about today, and his mood was sour because of it. Three days ago, he had finally got Angel into bed. He had been lusting over her body since his turning a year ago. She was the perfect specimen in his mind, and her abilities in bed did not disappoint; he was rising to the occasion just thinking about his delicious tryst with her. She had been luscious and fabulous, an unselfish lover in bed; gave as good as she got. He grinned at the memory.

  Then his smile faded as he thought about Pascal. The smug, undead bastard. So he had found a place to turn humans into vampires that would allow them to sun-walk. Who freaking cares, he thought. Good for them. Joshua would still not be able to go into the sun, ever again, and honestly, he was a little bit bitter about that. Yes he had asked to be turned, but still.

  Back then, he had loved going into Night Crawlers on the weekends. Tons of hot women prowled that place, and he had gotten lucky quite a few times from the desperate chicks who frequented the establishment, always seeming to be ready for the taking.

  He quickly figured out the owners were not normal people. After inquiring about a job as a bouncer there, he was easily hired, and soon figured out their immortal secret. He had practically begged Darius to turn him, promising lifelong loyalty, but it didn’t take much. He just never thought being immortal would be so… boring.

  It had only been a year, but Joshua decided he wanted a place at the head of the clan. He was tired of being a lowly foot-soldier. He wanted to be second – or hell, first. He could kill Pascal.

  If Pascal didn’t kill him first.

  Joshua smirked a little as he pictured Pascal’s face if he ever found out that he had ravished his little Vampire Barbie better than he ever could.

  ∞∞∞

  Dr. Tyler James emerged from his room, yawning. He walked out to find Kathryn and Thomas in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

  “Good morning,” Tyler said.

  “Well good morning yourself,” Kathryn said. She was in a pink robe, ridiculous fuzzy pink slippers on her feet. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a clip.

  Tyler surveyed the scene around him. “Coffee?” he simply asked, as he was not a morning person.

  “In the pot,” Thomas answered, using tongs to indicate a coffeemaker on the granite countertop.

  After Tyler poured himself a cup, he carried the steaming mug to Jonathan’s door and knocked lightly. “Mr. Murphy, may I come in?”

  A groggy voice bade him to enter.

  As Tyler opened the door, he saw Jonathan beginning to sit up. “What’s up, Doc? You’re up early today.”

  Tyler glanced at the G-Shock watch he never took off. “It’s eight-thirty. After eight years of college, I feel like I’ve slept in,” he mused.

  Jonathan smiled. “I can understand that.”

  “I’ve just come to check on you. How do you feel?”

  Jonathan eyed the handsome mocha-skinned doctor. “I actually feel good. Much better, actually.” He made a fist, then flexed his fingers out.

  “Well, I’m going to do a quick exam on you, is that all right?”

  “Of course, Doc.” Jonathan replied.

  Dr. James set his steaming cup on Jonathan’s nightstand. Jonathan sniffed it longingly. The doctor repeated the same exam as yesterday.

  After the assessment was done, Jonathan asked, “May I get up and get my own breakfast? I don’t care for people waiting on me.”

  Tyler studied him. “Well, I will admit that foot looks much better than yesterday. Must be due to your age.”

  “Yes, I find the older I get, the faster I heal.”

  Tyler picked up his coffee mug and took a cautionary sip. “Can I ask you a personal question, Mr. Murphy?”

  “Sure, as long as you call me Jonathan. Mr. Murphy was my father,” Jonathan’s attempt at a joke.

  “Fair enough.” Tyler paused and eyed Jonathan curiously, plucking up his courage. “How old are you, exactly?”

  Jonathan let out a mirthful laugh, then cocked his head to the side. “You really want to know?”

  “Of course,” Tyler was serious.

  After a pause, Jonathan said, “Two-hundred-and-thirty-eight.”

  Tyler let out an involuntarily gasp, his eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

  Jonathan laughed. “I love that reaction. It never gets old! Let’s just say I was born two years before the Declaration of Independence was signed.”

  “Holy shit,” Tyler said, clasping a hand to his mouth. “Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to curse.”

  Jonathan chuckled again. “It’s okay. I’ve heard worse.”

  Tyler helped Jonathan out of bed, and assisted him to sit at the breakfast table.

  Kathryn and Thomas served up bacon, eggs, and French toast.

  As everyone ate, Thomas said, “How about them Niners, huh? Whipped the Saints twenty-eight to three last night.”

  Tyler gave a sardonic grin. “I’m a Raiders fan.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Of course you are.” He gnawed on a piece of bacon, then said, “Dr. James, it’s my turn. May I ask you something?”

  Tyler grinned. “Only if you call me Tyler.”

  “Fair enough,” Jonathan said. “What’s your gift, Tyler?”

  Tyler looked around the table, and then, without a word, he set his fork down and got up and walked to the kitchen. The three Immortals stopped eating and watched as Tyler paused at the sink that was built into the kitchen’s island. They all sat silent as they watched Tyler turn on the faucet. As the water cascaded down, their mouths dropped open as he then waved his hand and caused the water to arc up into the air without actually touching it. The clear water formed a beautiful C-shape in the palm of Tyler’s hand. Tyler was grinning facetiously.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Kathryn breathed.

  “You can manipulate the elements,” Thomas said.

  Tyler laughed. “Yep! Cool, right?”

  Jonathan limped over to the sink to get
a closer look at the water. “I’ve only met one other Immortal who could manipulate the elements, but that was in the early 1900s. What else can you do?”

  Tyler flattened his hand, palm side down and flung the water into the sink and shut the tap off. He found a towel and dried his hands. “Well, I can manipulate fire a little bit, but to be honest, I haven’t practiced with it very much. Too scary.”

  Kathryn snorted. “Uh yeah, I wouldn’t want to be around when you try that.”

  They all sat back down at the table and continued eating.

  “So what brought you to the immortal world, Dr. James?” Thomas asked.

  “Tyler, please,” he smiled.

  Thomas grinned and nodded.

  “Well, I was working at the county hospital in Oakland one night. It was a particularly slow night for some reason. This teen came in with some gunshot wounds. He was unconscious, so of course I start checking his vitals and was surprised that not only did he have no pulse, he was already cold.”

  He took a drink of his orange juice and continued. “I did a quick body check and saw a gunshot through his temples. Shot went through-and-through. He had two in the chest and one in the shoulder, too.

  “As medical interns in that state, we have to work in the morgue for a certain amount of hours, and since it was slow, I decided I’d wheel him down there myself and get in a few hours for the rest of the night. I loathed morgue duty and just wanted to get it over with.”

  Kathryn wrinkled her nose. “That would be so nasty.”

  Tyler winked at her. “Yeah, it so is. So anyway, I put this kid into a drawer but I didn’t shut the door because I had to write out a toe tag. As I was doing that, I heard soft metal clanking noises coming from the drawer. I walked slowly over to it, slid the drawer out and watched as this boy’s bullets literally popped themselves out of his shoulder and chest. Clink-clink, they landed right on the metal he was lying on. I put my face close to the wounds and watched them start to close up on their own. Even the ones in his head seemed to be almost gone. I swallowed hard and put my finger to his neck, thinking I’d made a grave mistake and this kid might just make it, but again I found no pulse, and his skin was ice-cold.”

 

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