Her Immortal Harem Book Two

by Savannah Skye

  Which didn't change a damn thing. "How about I tell you what happened instead?” I asked softly.

  Alexei frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "I saw my mom tonight."

  It would be hard to put a description to the expression that went across the men's faces but they all had the same reaction. One thing we had in common; they didn't like to think about what they had done, either. They had the decency to feel guilty and ashamed.

  "How was she?" asked Nico - the sweetest guy in the world and the most likely to say the wrong thing at every opportunity.

  "She was the same as she has been every time I've gone to see her for the last fifteen years," I said, the words grating through my gritted teeth. "Slightly worse than the time before. Do you have any idea what that's like? For fifteen years, I have been going along praying for any improvement, however small. And every single time, I have my hopes dashed. These days, she only knows who I am sporadically. And every time she looks at me and doesn't know who I am, I die a little inside. Remi and I have to work every day to keep up with her medical bills. We take on jobs we shouldn't, take risks we shouldn't. And when we struggle, you can't even imagine how shitty, how small, how useless, how helpless I feel because I can't help her. You want the truth about what happened? That's the truth. Not some bullshit about gods and tasks and saving humanity. This is an actual human. You guys have gotten so caught up in the fate of the race that you've forgotten that race is made up of a bunch of individuals."

  I would have liked to have taken more satisfaction in making them look as broken as I felt, but one of the hard truths you learn about life is that misery can't be passed on, it can only be shared. If anything, all I had done was make myself feel more angry - what right did they have to feel upset about my mom? Their emotions felt like a violation.

  "You're right," said Alexei, finally. "And if there was anything we could do, then we would." Again, I believed in his sincerity. "But we can't change the past. It's the future we have to think about. Ensuring that there is one."

  A hot flush of anger burned through me.

  "What did you come back here for?"

  The scroll was poking out of my pocket.

  "Aside from being a demi-god," Alexei went on, "one of the things that made you suitable for the tasks was the fact that you actually care."

  "Also, one of the reasons we all liked you," added Nico, once again finding the most inappropriate thing to say.

  "Even when you don't want to," put in Christoph, "you can't help caring. It's who you are."

  It wasn't Christoph's forthrightness that made me stay. It wasn't Nico's endearingly ill-thought-out words or even Alexei's sincerity and honesty. It was my father. What the guys had done had ruined my life and destroyed my mother, and I hated it. But they had been following the orders of my father. He was the one at fault here, no one else. He was the one at whom I should be leveling my hatred. I wasn't sure entirely what the rules were, but I had a strong hunch that what the guys showed my father was not mere loyalty - they had no choice but to obey. It was what they were created for. I could hate what they did, but hating them was not fair.

  Which was not to say that I forgave them. It would have been the fair thing to do, but fairness had never been a factor in my life and I didn't feel inclined to be fair to other people. I couldn't let it go that easily. I couldn't trust them, I couldn't love them, but right now, I did need them.

  "You're right, too," I said in a low, reluctant voice. “I don't want you in my life in any way but it's not all about me. And while I think I could solve Zeus's tasks without you, it has become evident that I may struggle to survive without you. And I plan to survive so I can meet my father, and force his head up his own asshole."

  "Everyone should have a goal in life," said Christoph, sardonically.

  "Things can't be like they were before," I continued. "This is just business."

  They all nodded.

  "We work together, but no touching."

  More nodding.

  "And once this is over, then you never darken my door again."

  "If that's the way it has to be," said Alexei, his expression both pained and solemn, "then that's how it will be."

  "Fine." And as I said it, the light within me that each of them had kindled in his own way, died, along with a giant chunk of my heart.

  Chapter 4

  I slept late, but under the circumstances, I think I'd earned it. When I finally awoke, I didn't get up right away, but lay in bed, staring at the still strange ceiling above me and thinking.

  Frankly, I wished that I could stop thinking. Sleep ought to have been a respite from all the things on my mind, but my dreams had all been of my situation. I had seen my mom, staring at me, not even knowing who I was. I had seen the scroll, the list of tasks on it stretching away impossibly into the distance. I had seen Zeus glaring at me, huge and threatening, and then he was joined by all the other gods, looking down on me angrily, and when I tried to speak up for myself, no words came and their anger turned to laughter, booming and echoing around Mount Olympus. I had seen the guys. I had seen them torturing my mother, driving her to insanity.

  Through it all, whatever else I dreamed, there was always a shadowy figure lurking on the periphery, watching, pulling the strings like a master puppeteer. Though I could never get a clear look at this figure, I was somehow aware of who it was; Dolos. My father watched my dreams and smiled to himself.

  Was he really watching them? Was that possible? He was a god so the word “possible” had little real meaning. The idea that my father might actually be intruding into my dreams made me shiver.

  Now, I had awoken, all the problems I had dreamed of were still there, but now as real-world concerns, which needed answers. It was overwhelming. How, in the space of a week, had my life become this? I had gone from fearing that I was going mad like my mother, to finding out the truth of how she had been driven mad. After a life of trusting no one but Remi, I had found three men who, against all the odds, I could imagine being with for the rest of my life, three men I trusted and even loved, and then I had discovered that they were the ones who had broken my mom's mind. That trust that I had, for the first time in my life, found, was instantly betrayed and the men in whom I had placed it went from loved to hated in a moment. Behind all of that was the ever-present reality that the fate of the world rested in my clumsy hands. It was easy to forget that. Perhaps it was too ridiculous to take seriously, or perhaps the sheer enormity of it made it difficult to take in. Whatever the case, although that was obviously the most serious thing I was dealing with, it was also the easiest to put to one side and say; yeah, I'll deal with that later. Perhaps it was just my brain's way of coping with the shit that had been flung at it recently.

  How did a person deal with all this? From the tangle of my mom's mental instability, my father's identity, the betrayed love of my new companions, the fate of humanity, the wrath of Zeus, the four remaining tasks - from all that mess, what thread was I supposed to pull at and say; I'm starting here?

  Oh yeah - nearly forgot - someone was also trying to kill me. Probably a god. And they were getting closer with every attempt.

  How was I supposed to deal?

  One thing at a time.

  I remembered one time, Remi and I had been on a con that had gone way south. Everything that had meant to happen, hadn't, and we were in a basement bar surrounded by bad people asking questions we couldn't answer, both of us under false identities, owing money and not having it, with the police on their way and the clock ticking. I looked at Remi and the look he gave me back just said; one thing at a time. When that shit happens, you don't panic, you don't try to solve everything at once, you just take your next breath, your next step, make your next move, and one by one, thread by thread, you unravel the mess. And we got out of it.

  Getting up was probably my next step now. Then a shower. Just keep moving. I could save the world today and deal with my personal issues tomorrow.

&n
bsp; Washed, dressed and feeling more human, if no more happy, I headed back to the lounge, where the scroll was back on the coffee table, which seemed to have become its official home. The guys were there as I entered.

  "Morning. Breakfast?" Nico shot up out of his seat, keen and attentive. He was the one I hadn't slept with yet, and as soon as I laid eyes on him my first thought was how much I wanted to. I suppressed the hated thought immediately and berated myself for thinking it, but you can't control your thoughts, one leads to another. That one led to a memory of how good it had been with Alexei and Christoph.

  My eyes flicked unwillingly in their direction and a sense memory burned a hot path through me, so I could almost taste Alexei's skin on my tongue, feel Christoph's mouth on my body. A wave of wicked arousal swept through me at the memory of their touch, of their bodies against mine, of them inside me.

  With an effort, I crushed the thought.

  "Thanks. Coffee."

  Nico nodded and hurried to the kitchen. I walked across the room and sat down. As I went, I passed Alexei and caught a hint of his scent - powerfully male and dangerously arousing. Much as I hated the reaction these men had on me, there was a perverse part of me that was delighted to note that I, at least, seemed to have a similar effect on them. As I looked at Christoph, I saw him hastily look up from where his eyes had been devouring my bare legs. He colored slightly, knowing that I had caught him looking.

  "Sleep well?" I could hear the slight thickness in Alexei's voice as he spoke to me, and saw him subtly adjust the front of his pants. I was making him uncomfortable and I couldn't help being pleased about it.

  "Fine," I replied, shortly. The tasks of Zeus were sure to be a challenge, but right now, it seemed like the hardest part of this might be controlling my desire for these men. It would help if I kept reminding myself what they did.

  Nico returned with coffee - dark and sweet. He smiled and I couldn't help smiling back.

  "Thanks."

  "What's the plan for today?" asked Alexei, his eyes now flicking toward the scroll - he was always the most business-like of the trio.

  I put down the coffee and picked up the scroll. "I guess we'd better find out."

  It was hard not to remember how different things had been when I had last put the scroll down; how different things had been between the four of us, and how happy I had been. That happiness was not just gone, but the memory of it felt like a knife, pricking me with the memory of their betrayal, and of my own ignorant betrayal of my mom.

  I unrolled the scroll and read out loud. "'Humans value gems above all, snatch the best and the brightest from a building so tall. A sacrifice to the gods to prove your love, and then send it on high to the mountain above'."

  We all sat in silence awhile, taking this in, until Nico spoke. "Well, that means damn all to me."

  A little ripple of laughter ran around the group, managing to break some of the tension and awkwardness.

  "That's something the gods miss," mused Alexei, stroking his chin. "Humans used to shower them with gifts but now they've stopped."

  "Like when a lover starts taking you for granted," said Nico. "You start getting socks for Christmas instead of edible underwear."

  "Good comparison," said Christoph. "I'm sure Zeus would be delighted if you sent him edible underwear."

  "The best and brightest gem." I tried to get the conversation back on track. "Would that be the Hope Diamond?" I had run a few big-scale cons in my time but they seldom went as smoothly as they do in the movies - Remi and I aren't exactly Ocean's Eleven - scamming the world's most famous jewel was next-level stuff.

  A quick search online revealed that the Great Star of Africa was the world's largest diamond at a spectacular 530.4 carats, dwarfing the Hope's 45.5.

  "Then why have I heard of the Hope and not the other one?" asked Nico.

  "The Hope is better looking," mused Christoph.

  "And size isn't everything," I added. "Although, it does help." The guys chuckled and I straightened, wiping the smile off my face. Damn it, I had to get a hold on myself. That sounded perilously close to flirting.

  "The Hope is in a museum in Washington," pointed out Alexei. "I don't think that's going anywhere. Is the Africa one at least in private ownership?"

  "Technically, yes," Nico replied.

  "Might have a better chance with that one, then."

  "I should clarify," Nico went on. "The private owner is the British Royal family. It's part of the crown jewels. Sits on top of that stick the Queen carries."

  "Scepter," corrected Christoph.

  "That's probably not an option either," I said. "Britain's such a long way."

  "Yeah," nodded Alexei, "that's the problem. The distance."

  I shot him a glare. ”Let me see the task again." I reached across the coffee table for the scroll. When we were back into it like this - back on a job together - then the awkwardness and all the other stuff going on seemed to evaporate and cease to matter. I read the task again. "'Best and brightest'. Those are the key words."

  "What do you mean?" asked Nico.

  "Well, look at the gems we're talking about. The Hope is way smaller but we're still considering it. Why? Because look at it! That could easily be best and certainly brightest. Best and brightest are general terms, open to interpretation. What we need to do is find a gem that's slightly more accessible but could still be called 'best and brightest'. Also," I went on, "if possible, find one that's owned by a bastard, because I don't think we're going to be able to give it back afterwards."

  "You're trying to save humanity," pointed out Alexei.

  "And I'm not saying that's not important, and if we have no choice then I'll take whatever we can get," I replied. "I'm just saying that, if there is an option, I would rather steal from a jackass than Mother Teresa."

  "I sort of doubt Mother Teresa had much jewelry," said Christoph.

  We began to hunt around online and after about an hour of trawling through auction catalogues and gem collectors, Nico put down his coffee cup with a decisive smack.

  "Boom! Best star sapphire. Tell me that isn't the best and brightest." He held up his phone and we all peered in at the most perfect, sky-blue gemstone I had ever seen. I've not gotten a lot of experience with gems - my relationships have seldom lasted long enough to reach the gem stage - but this was stunning. And yet, also modest. It was not oversized, it wasn't gaudy, it was... it was perfect.

  "Who owns it?" I asked, eagerly.

  Nico grinned. "Just sold at Sotheby's a few days ago to one Raymond Kray; bon vivant, gem collector and arms dealer."

  "Arms dealer?" Alexei raised his eyebrows. "If his career is listed as arms dealer, then why is this man walking around free?"

  "I think 'suspected' arms dealer is the proper phrase," said Nico, raising his hands in air quotes. "Which is the polite way of saying that everyone knows he's at it but no one has been able to catch him because anyone who crosses him has a way of turning up dead, or not at all."

  "He sounds ideal," I enthused.

  "Absolutely," said Christoph. "If you're going to steal precious stones from someone, then make sure it's the man with a firm track record of killing those who wrong him."

  "You always look for the negative side," said Nico, shaking his head. "It gets better. Mr. Kray is showing his latest purchase in Manhattan for one week only."

  "When?"

  "Opened last night."

  I beamed. "Nico, you are brilliant."

  I hugged him and then pulled back, clearing my throat. "Now, all we have to do is nab it."

  "Remember," said Alexei, the voice of caution, "given this guy's day job, he's going to have some serious security. This isn't going to be easy."

  I nodded, a plan already forming in my mind. "You're right. We're going to need a little help on this one."

  Alexei frowned. "Help?"

  I stood up. "You stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

  “No way,” Nico said with a frown. “Not without
us. We still don’t even know who stabbed you. You could be in imminent danger.”

  I was about to argue with him but as I looked at the others and noted their stiff posture, tensed jaws and folded arms, I knew I was fighting a losing battle.

  “Fine. Come with me and wait outside then.”

  Alexei nodded and followed me to the door. “Where are we headed?”

  “I need to go back to my apartment."

  “What for?"

  I shot him a grim smile. ”I need to visit an old friend."

  Chapter 5

  The good news about Raymond Kray's coming out party for his new sapphire was that it was invitation only. That sounds like bad news for someone without an invitation and with no hope of getting one, but trust me, it was good.

  Reason being; if you aren't letting the riff-raff in, then you have very little concern for the security of the object on display. The reason that museums have all their exhibits behind glass with alarms and guards is that they let just anyone in, crooks and all. The other plus side to this news was that the majority of the hired security would be on the doors rather than standing around the jewel itself - the theory being that if you stopped the criminal element at the entrance, then you didn't need to worry about theft. It's a good theory, unless the criminal element is someone like me, who can talk her way into anywhere. The trick, when it comes to getting into posh parties when you're not on the list, is acting like you belong. People who are used to being “on the list”, who have been “on the list” for everything since the day they were born, never actually stop to see if they're on the list, they just breeze past.

  As chance would have it, a certain good friend of mine was one of those people. Her name was Countess Ursula Von Stockton, she was ninth in line to the throne of some eastern European country you've probably never heard of, and any resemblance she might bear to me wearing a wig was entirely coincidental.