Dark Lure: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 2)

by Jamie Magee

“Second only in command to the sovereign, the God. I read the same text, King. My people authored the prophecy.”

  “The one you don’t believe in.”

  “I’m to believe that you are to be slain in order for the new Gods to rise—that is how it reads, isn’t it? That the new kings must take out five points of power within the line of the Gods’ ranks before they can claim a victory…that if they don’t claim a victory, the end of all time will commence, utter darkness will reign.”

  His stare bellowed a yes.

  Reveca squinted her eyes closed and bowed her head. “It robbed you from us, and now it’s ensured your demise.”

  That was the best way to describe it. Energy cannot be destroyed, but it can be dispersed. His soul would be shattered so far apart that it would never exist in the same manner again. Vanished.

  “I can’t see a way out of this…not in my current state.”

  “In your current state?”

  King tightened his jaw. “I don’t remember it all, Reveca. I remember you. Every second of us. The details are becoming more vivid breath by breath. But the rest, it comes in sharp flashes, gut feelings. I’m piecing it together the best I can. You know the worst of it.”

  “So there is nothing worse than knowing you have been a breath away from me this entire time and now you have to be destroyed,” She asked with sarcasm dripping from her tone.

  “Thus far. Surely whatever other sins I committed, which are blind to me now, have equally surfaced in your life.”

  Reveca moved her head side to side then stood. “I’m not going to feel like shit for having a life when you walked out on ours—for my happiness, of course.”

  She let her gaze touch the candles which were burning in the dark room and asked them to rise with one quiet thought, and they did.

  As she made her way from the room and down the hall, they floated around her, following her lead.

  Inside of Gwinn’s room, after slamming the door with a thought, she willed them to rest once more and they settled at points that marked a pentagram. She gracefully fell to her knees, pulled the harvest she had taken from GranDee’s garden, and laid them before her as she lowered her legs. She stared forward at Gwinn’s bed, her laying there, eyes closed, steady breaths.

  Reveca began to whisper sacred words across her lips. A swift breeze encircled Reveca as she spoke. The leaves of the herbs twisted into the air, spinning in place, then they spun all around Reveca, all the way around the five points of the pentagram, brushing across the flames. Seconds later each leaf turned into a spinning flame then burst into ash that carried itself on a breeze all the way across the room to where Gwinn lie sleeping.

  As Gwinn breathed, the ashes flowed within.

  All at once Gwinn’s back bowed up. Reveca was on her feet and at her side instantly.

  Gwinn collapsed on the bed and the breeze vanished. Her breaths began to quicken, then all at once slowed down, really slowed down, to the point of deep mediation, an imprisoned sleep.

  Reveca glided her hands over Gwinn, ensuring herself that, yes, she did feel life. She meant to pull her out and she pushed her further into her mental slumber.

  She glanced up when she saw King. He had stepped in the room, closed the door behind him, then made his way to the corner near the closet door. He crossed his arms as if he was prepared to watch Reveca fail over and over.

  “Do you think you and your depleted power can lend a hand and help me bring her back around?” Reveca said as sarcastically as possible.

  “You’re going to mock me at every turn, even as you hold a girl you are starving.”

  “I mock a faith that has once again screwed me over.”

  He stared for instant then spoke. “No spell is going to bring her back. Spells take energy. She’s starving.”

  “Because she, too, is an Escort, a soldier in the line of some God.” She glanced down at Gwinn. “I’ve brought back several souls that feed on energy. That’s not what is wrong. It has to be something else.”

  “You have brought back souls that only crave one emotion, can sense that emotion from any distance, they can sense it before it is ever created. Souls that feel a solid rush of power when they consume that emotion. You’ve seen souls that can move anywhere at any time in the blink of an eye—life, death, or dream—they traverse it all constantly searching for more, needing it so badly that creating the emotion they need is no longer evil but an act of survival?”

  “No,” Reveca said, stalking toward him. When she reached the end of the bed she spoke again. “I’m putting this argument down. It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not, who we were or who we are. I need this girl to pull through. Now help me.”

  “Help you?”

  “Yes. Help me,” she said coldly, stepping closer to him just so he could she how awful that request tasted to her. How she didn’t want to admit she had hit a boundary she couldn’t pass, that she was powerless to bring Gwinn back on her own. “Now. This instant. Make her rise. Wake her.”

  A slow, dark grin came to King. “Right now?”

  “Now,” Reveca said with a hard glare.

  That second, a gust of energy encased her then she was across the room standing before him; he had pulled her there. King gripped her arm then opened the closet door, and closed it behind them. He pushed Reveca down the path of the tight room all the way to the back of it, where he turned her to face the wall.

  “What the hell are you doing!” Reveca whispered harshly as she tried to turn.

  “Obeying,” he said against her neck.

  That one word made her freeze, caused warm chills to wave over her skin.

  She felt his hands slide down her arms then lift them to the wall, bracing them there. His body was against hers, her back to his front.

  “Exaltation,” he said as his hands moved to her waist, slid along her belt, then began to pull the buckle apart. “It’s an odd emotion.” He unbuttoned her jeans. “Feels different to everyone,” he said as the palms of his hands, which she would swear were on fire, vibrating with an intense hum, slid down her stomach, sliding her panties and shorts down her hips. “Except for one degree,” he said the second her shorts dropped to the floor.

  Reveca sucked in a deep breath as she felt one of his hands slide up her thigh as his other traveled up her stomach nice and slow. Against her neck he spoke once more. “Orgasmic exaltation is not only the most potent rush of that emotion, it is the most exhilarating.”

  “Not here. You can’t be serious. Not now.”

  “She can’t see us, sweet.” His lips moved up her neck, and just behind her ear he whispered, “Are you going to let her hear us,” as his fingers slipped between the folds of her heat.

  Reveca bit back a moan as that insane humming sensation all but jarred her core.

  She heard him chuckle. “As staved as that girl is, I was hoping we could give her a five course meal…drag this out, build it so when it releases it’s twice as powerful.” His fingers slid farther, then glided within. “But as ready as you are that might not be an option.”

  Her head fell back on his shoulder. Her body completely taking over, she could not hold a clear thought. She was too high on the sensations.

  “Bastard,” she murmured.

  King’s other hand glided under her tank, pushed her bra up. “My father would disagree,” he said as the tips of his fingers passively rolled her nipples between them.

  “Which one?” she said on a whispered breath.

  His fingers dipped inside once more. “The only one I ever care to claim.” He landed a wet kiss against the side of her neck. “Only you could get off and argue at the same time.”

  She wanted to argue that point, tried to, had a snarky comeback on deck but it faded.

  It faded as she became more and more intoxicated with the sensations he was sending through her body.

  She pressed her back against him, feeling the thick, hard length of him crush against her. Slowly she let her hand glide down her
stomach, reaching for his arm, falling down it and once she reached his hand she caressed it, as it owned her. When she felt him glide his fingers inside, his thumb firmly on that tight ball of nerves, she moved with him. She dared to rock back into him, even bowed her chest into the touch of his other hand.

  Letting go, she never did that alone, and if her iron clad will to hold on ever wavered, her partner was never far behind her.

  She never did because the first time she felt this sensation she felt it alone, at the hand of Kenson. He eased her into the rush of a lifetime and promised more to come.

  Alone, she never wanted it to be that way again. It dug up too many emotions, took her back to when she was a powerless girl.

  Right now it didn’t matter that was it was Kenson turned King, it still meant she had to surrender. Allow someone else to control.

  I can’t help it, she thought to herself. And she knew that was the truth. Each movement of his hands, each time she rocked into him, she felt herself slip further back into this mind-numbing rush, where she felt everything, sensed everything. It placed her in a world alone with him, no end, no beginning.

  When she felt herself start to climb she held in a whimper, it was intense, amplified her to another level of sweet agony. She told herself it was almost over, she would let go then grab her control back.

  She felt her body tighten around him, daring to convulse, then all at once it did. As she let out a gasp, he reached up and turned her chin to him. His lips fell to hers then his hand fell to grasp her breast once more. His kiss went deep and fast, but his hand sliding in and out of the heat of her never faltered. If anything, his rhythm, his precise touch gained speed, became absolutely consuming. That edge of a rush, just as it peaks, didn’t flash through Reveca’s body. She wasn’t now on some swift downhill fall. She was riding that delicious pain that took her higher and higher, then all at once she finally did peak. She felt a burst of energy soar from her, from them. Her body nearly went limp as his kiss continued on, as his fingertips glided through her throbbing core, easing the aftershocks of her rush.

  His kiss grew gentler, like a lover. Each of his hands began to glide across her body, slowly as if he were committing every curve to memory.

  Then he pulled away. “Demand met,” he said against her lips.

  Hearing that snapped Reveca’s control back in place. He didn’t say it coldly or even arrogantly, he said it like a confession, which brought them back to the forefront of their current positions, back down in good ole reality.

  Reveca looked down to adjust her shirt, hesitated when she noticed in the dark of that closet she could see her skin glow ever so slightly. She told herself not to shake as she reached for her shorts.

  “If this girl is not well, if you used me, there will be no question as to if I’m meant to destroy you or not.”

  “I did use you. I used you to prove my truth.”

  Reveca pushed past him all the way through to the other end of the closet. She pulled the door open, knowing she had been played, that she was going to have to reach out to Jamison or her sister to save this girl.

  Instantly she was proved wrong.

  Gwinn wasn’t in her bed. She was walking into the bath. Reveca watched as she closed the door, as she heard the water in the shower turn on.

  Reveca couldn’t comprehend it, not even when the proof was right before her. An Escort, something that had only lived on the pages of Books of Shadows and the tales that are told to children to frighten them into being in control of their emotions at all times.

  When she felt King step out beside her she kept her stare on the closed bathroom door. “Are you trying to tell me this girl feeds off the rush of orgasms?”

  She heard him breathe a smile. “No, exaltation. A rush. I’m sure if you allowed her in that lounge of yours on a wild night, or even let her linger near the gates of your Boneyard as a rider trails out for long ride, or even back from one that was still thriving within them, she’d be just fine. The emotion is easy to find once you have a taste of it.”

  Reveca slowly moved her stare to him; the question was in her eyes, why did he drag her in that closet when they could have just taken Gwinn downstairs? What was that? Some claim? How could he say, and they agree, they never had or will have a chance and then he make a move like that, deepen the ache between them?

  “You said now,” King responded. “She needed a sharp rush, a jolt. A taste.” His stare fell down her body. “We had an intent to give her what we created. That made it all the more direct and powerful.”

  “Right,” Reveca said as she felt weak all at once. She was twenty again, trying to understand a warrior that was always a step ahead, who had no idea how to say how he really felt about anything.

  “She can learn to feed subtly, as she crosses the emotion, if you have her focus on her craft, or anything else that will serve as a distraction. Keep her from hunting for the emotion. Creating it.”

  The shower had cut off somewhere in the middle of his explanation.

  Right as the door to the room opened so did the door to the bathroom.

  Reveca’s stare went to the door. It was Shade who was coming in to check on Gwinn, but behind him, out in the hall, she heard rumbling male voices. A second later she saw Judge and Knight leading Bastion up the next set of stairs. She saw Talon and Thrash hesitating at the bottom of the stairs, Talon trying to talk to Thrash who still looked like he was in the middle of a run, hard and mad.

  Gwinn cowered behind the door, clenching a towel to her.

  “Out,” Reveca said to Shade and King.

  King hesitated for a second, let his ice blue stare meet Gwinn’s for an instant, then he left with Shade, closing the door behind him.

  Gwinn opened the bathroom door and grinned. “You caught me off guard. I thought I was alone,” she said as she walked across the room. When she passed the candles she subtly batted her lashes and the flames when out. “Oh, I’m sorry did you need those?” she asked, glancing to them as they ignited once again. Then all at once what she had done hit her and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. “Did you see that?”

  Reveca nodded slowly. “How are you feeling, Gwinn?”

  Gwinn looked around the room, to the window, then closed her eyes. “Can I dream?”

  “You can move deep into your subconscious, like a mediation.”

  Gwinn nodded once then walked past Reveca to the closet. She only barely closed the door as she pulled clothes on. “I’m not sure I like meditating then. I had a nightmare.”

  “About?” Reveca asked, somehow locking her experience with King deep inside of her to contend with later.

  Gwinn opened the door. “We were surrounded. Cops everywhere…the room grew so small.” She hesitated. “That’s all I can remember.”

  “The raid. Gwinn, that happened days ago.”

  “What?”

  “Our boys in blue like to crash the party now and again. When they did you lost it, pure panic. When it was over, you slipped right back into what I just pulled you out of.”

  Gwinn furrowed her brow as she tried to pull the memories forward.

  “Afterwards you didn’t know why you feared the cops. Do you know now?”

  After a moment of reflection she spoke. “I don’t know. I don’t trust them.” She stepped forward. “What am I doing wrong? What is wrong with my head?”

  “I think you may have been hungry.”

  Gwinn reached her hand for her stomach.

  “We have to talk about how to pull energy to you. I’ll ask King to help you.”

  She pointed to the floor. “That’s how I knew how to do that. I remember now. He told me to pull from an emotion.”

  Reveca didn’t bother to agree. “You’re different, Gwinn. I think I’m starting to understand how different, but right now, we’re going to take this day by day.”

  “Just tell me what to do.”

  Reveca glanced to the floor, to the candles. “Practice. Practice what I taugh
t you so far. It’s late now, or rather early. We’ll do more later.”

  Gwinn nodded to agree.

  Reveca reached for her arm, squeezed it, then made her way out. She wanted the full story of what went down that night. She wanted to know it all before she approached her new witchling, the boy.

  When she stepped into the hall, she saw Talon and Thrash still conversing in a low tone. It didn’t look like Talon was getting the answers he was looking for, but with those two, you knew they always said more than what seemed obvious.

  Reveca walked by them, hearing them pause as she did so, and went to her room. With a thought she pulled the rug back in place.

  Guilt assaulted her then as she thought of how far she had slipped with King. She showered, thinking it would clear her head, cleanse her day. When the thoughts of King, his words and touch would not fade, she pushed her mind before that point. Through the raid, what Zale had said about that drug, even back to when she met Tubbs, or rather Mathis, the good cop.

  She had already dressed and was standing at her dresser, staring at the chest where the forty-five that killed GranDee rested when Talon finally came in the room.

  Reveca kept her stare on that chest as he unloaded his pockets on the dresser: phone, money, his weapons.

  Even if Reveca did find a way to give that gun to the Mathis, the good cop, even if he could take down Holden, her prints were on that gun. Even if they weren’t, she still had to cover Newberry’s death. Thanks to her sister, Holden was going to get off on a lesser charge, but Reveca would be damned if that was the only price he paid.

  “How’d that conversation go?” Reveca asked Talon when she finally looked up.

  He was pulling his shirt off; it had splatters of blood across it. “Let me wash this off then we’ll sort it all out,” he said in an exhausted tone.

  Reveca moved her stare back to the gun once more as Talon stepped into the shower. “Such a tangled web we weave,” she whispered. The words GranDee had always said.

  Right then Talon’s phone began to ring. Still locked in her gaze she answered it. “Hello.”

  As she waited for an answer she waved her hand over the chest sealing it once more.