“That’s not true!” she argued.
Tristan held up a hand. “Sensitive people lead difficult lives. They either find people who treasure how precious that is, or they find a way to hide who they are from the world in fear. He has many, many defenses to protect how vulnerable he is. And you, a woman he loves, can smash those defenses with a wave of your hand.”
“I never try to hurt him,” she said, but the fight was out of her voice.
“But you do,” he stared. “And sometimes intention means less than action. Your actions are cruel. Even if you don’t remember our lives together, we do. Use your empathy.”
“I tried to talk to him…”
He cocked his head. “And that is enough for you? You feel that you have done enough to be kind to someone who loves you?”
“Damn,” she muttered. “You really know how to make a person feel like crap.”
He frowned. “I am being kind to you. If you were another woman, I would have taken greater action for hurting my friend so badly.”
“Like beating her up?” She asked with a grin.
“Beating?” His jaw dropped. “I do not beat women!”
She couldn’t stop the laugh that exploded from her lips. “It was a joke.”
He rose. “Your humor is… awful.”
That made her laugh harder. “I wasn’t saying you beat women! Just joking about what you do to protect Daniel!”
He crossed the room and planted his hands on both sides of the bed beside her. She was forced to lean back with his face inches from her own. “The only woman I have hit was you, when you begged me to spank you. Hard.”
Her cheeks grew hot. “I have not!”
His mouth quirked. “You have. And you will again.”
She leaned in, desperate for his kiss.
He stood, his cock level with her mouth. “Think about that, sweet Surcy.”
When he turned and left, it took her a long minute to remember to breathe. Damn sexy gargoyles!
And then, she thought of their conversation. Daniel seemed so… angry and tough. Was it really possible that she was hurting him? She’d started to imagine that he had never really loved her, or that maybe he couldn’t love who she was now. But if she accepted what Tristan said… and Daniel loved her but was just too broken to show her that he did, well, she was a complete ass.
She rose and froze. What would she say to him?
Something in her chest ached to find him. Her thoughts kept flashing to the man Tristan described. Someone who had never really known real love other than with her. If she could go to here and now and declare her feelings for him, she would. But do I know how I feel?
Instead of running to his room, she went to her balcony and stared out at Mark’s carefully tended garden, and beyond the treetops to the city that surrounded them. “Damn it, if only I could remember!”
Frustration blossomed within her. It wasn’t fair! If she could just remember, then she could honestly tell him she loved him. But as of now? She felt something for him… but it wasn’t love yet, and she couldn’t lie to him. Going to him now, what could she offer him? Pity.
Daniel wouldn’t want that.
She hated how helpless that made her feel.
So, she remained rooted in place, her hands clenched around the railing. Her mind far away—with a demon she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand.
No matter how much she wanted to.
13
The sound of someone knocking at Surcy’s door filtered out to the balcony. Exhaling slowly, she willed herself to be ready for whatever she might face next, then turned and walked back into her room. “Come in.”
Mark entered, and she swore he looked worse than before. Is he losing weight?
“Did you use it again?” She hadn’t intended it, but the words came out harshly, almost as bad as an accusation.
He winced. “Yes.”
“And you’ve found another Immortal?”
He nodded.
“Maybe… maybe this time just Daniel and Tristan and I should go,” she offered, knowing it would change nothing.
He drew himself up taller. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re—“
“None of you could find him without me, so this is how it is. There’s no use in discussing it.”
She wanted to argue, but she bit her lip.
“Can you join us at the table?” He held out his hand.
She smiled at the simple gesture and went to him, taking the hand he offered. Instantly, a tingle ran between them, and she moved closer, planting a kiss softly on his lips.
He looked down at her, his blue eyes filled with happiness. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
She touched the stubble on his chin. “Of course I am.”
“It’s just… sometimes when I look at you, all I can think about was the first time we met, how the sun bathed you in light. How we were all worried you’d find out what we were and send us back to the demon-realm.”
Her smile faded. “I wish I remembered.”
“I do too.” His gaze ran over her. “It’s strange to have a whole lifetime of moments with you, and for you to remember none of it. I keep trying to push them away, but they’re still there.”
“I wonder which of us this is stranger for.”
He tilted his head. “It’s painful to remember, but I’d never want to forget.”
She kissed him again, overwhelmed with sadness. “Shall we join the others?”
He nodded and tugged her gently out of the room, his hand still holding hers.
At the table, Daniel and Tristan were eating massive sandwiches, with chips piled high on their plates. When Daniel looked up, his gaze moved to their held hands. He put his sandwich down and stared at his plate.
Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable. She was glad when Mark released her hand and sat down at the table.
“I’ve found another Immortal. And there’s possibly more of them. But there’s a catch.”
“Isn’t there always?” Daniel grumbled.
Mark ignored him. “The next Immortal... I think he may be a dragon.”
“Dragon?” Tristan frowned. “That should be no great problem. Dragons walk among us even now. They are hot-tempered, and conceal their dragon-forms with powerful glamours, but I would think with their egos, they’d be pleased to be named an Immortal.”
Mark shook his head. “There’s something wrong with this dragon. He’s… dangerous.”
Tristan looked unconvinced. “Many believe gargoyles to be strange and dangerous.”
“No,” Mark said. “We need to be prepared for a fight here.”
Tristan shrugged. “I always am.”
They rose from the table and equipped themselves with weapons. As Surcy pulled her daggers from the weapon’s chest, her hand recoiled as she brushed against the gun. Her flesh tingled uncomfortably at its nearness. She wasn’t sure why most paranormal beings hated the feel of the weapons, but she knew they often malfunctioned when they were around any way.
The demons likely keep it here just in case it’s needed.
Closing the chest, she went back out into the main room, where her demons were ready. Mark sat on a chair, his hands pressed against his temple. Another warning sang through her blood, but she pushed it aside. He knew his limits. Right?
“Ready?” Tristan asked, and she knew he was aware of her worries.
She nodded.
Mark rose slowly, and they went to Surcy. They all took hands, and she closed her eyes as Mark sent the image to her. It looked like a mountain top in the clouds. It was a place she could have never imagined, but the picture was all she needed to teleport them there. Taking a deep breath, she felt her powers flow around them. A minute later, the four of them stood on the ledge of the mountain.
“Fuck,” Daniel muttered, moving back from the edge. “Of course it had to be high up.”
Tristan shifted into his gargoyle form, his wings spreading wide behind him as his flesh ch
anged to the stunning color of wet-stone.
She tore her gaze from him and placed a steadying hand on Mark, who looked even paler. “I think this is as close as I could teleport to it.”
“Dragons don’t like to be disturbed and always create shields around their lairs.” Tristan explained slowly. But then, he looked up and frowned. “But unlike the legend, they don’t enjoy living in desolate caves. They enjoy wealth and beauty, such as large manors and castles. This seems… unusual.”
She glanced up to the cloud-covered top of the mountain. “We had better start climbing if we plan on being there any time soon. And, uh, maybe Tristan should take Mark up, so he can get a good view of the place and see if there is anything else he can tell us about it.”
Tristan nodded and wrapped his arms around Mark. It worried her that the druid didn’t refuse him. In seconds, Tristan began to flap his large, stone wings and rose above them, disappearing within the clouds.
“No problem, we can climb,” Daniel muttered, turning to the almost sheer rock, his eyes travelling slowly up.
Surcy moved beside him, reached up, finding a handhold, and pulled herself up. It wasn’t that she enjoyed climbing, but without her wings, she was left with little choice. She hoped Tristan had the sense not to leave Mark alone at the top.
The climb was more of a challenge than she ever expected. Sweat made her clothes stick uncomfortably to every inch of her body, and she was breathing hard. Several times she nearly lost her grip, but Daniel was always there, one hand clenching the back of her shirt as she gained a stronger handheld.
Glancing up, she saw the top of the mountain just above them and knew her shaking legs would thank her when she got to solid land.
But just as her mouth curled into a smile, a roar shook the earth, sending tiny rocks and dirt raining down onto them. She had to press closer to the rock to keep from falling, even while her heart raced.
“What the fuck was that?” Daniel asked, sounding out of breath.
“I’m guessing an angry dragon.”
He said nothing, but neither of them moved for a long minute, as if waiting for a dragon to come bursting toward them. When nothing terrible happened, she took a deep breath and looked above her once more. They needed to get to the top. If Tristan and Mark were facing an angry dragon, they would need all the help they could get.
She reached for the next handheld.
14
Tristan could not take his gaze from the dragon. Gargoyles were not quick to anger. Their decisions were made with intelligence and strategy, not influenced by emotion. But rage consumed him now. This… was wrong.
The dragon had black scales at one point, but now they were nearly gray. Its flesh hung from its grotesquely thin body, and its wings had patchy holes. The chains that bound its neck were thick and covered in spikes, which even now bit into its flesh, sending dark blood running down its scales in rivulets.
His fists clenched. Whoever had done this would die for their cruelty.
The creature was immortal. No matter how it starved. No matter how it bled, it could not die. This was an existence he would not wish on his greatest enemy.
The dragon roared again, but only a puff of smoke left its lips. There was no chance a dragon in this condition could breathe fire.
“That’s the Immortal,” Mark whispered beside him, leaning against the cave wall.
Tristan nodded. “So, how do we free him?”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Tristan allowed his senses to stretch out. The chains contained a spell that prevented the dragon from shifting and from breaking the chain. The magic was ancient, powerful, and perhaps created by Caine himself.
As he stared at the chain, he realized that there was a good chance he could break it. Gargoyles were good with stone and metal, anything that could be used to create.
“I think I could free it.”
“It’d kill you before you could,” Mark said, pushing off from the wall. “If we could reason with it—“
“Him,” Tristan added, because now he was sure it was a male. “Shifters cannot remain in one form or the other for too long. Being a dragon for so long means that he has almost entirely given into the animal within him. I don’t even know if he could understand us now.”
“But we can try,” Mark asserted.
Tristan didn’t have a better idea, so he nodded.
Mark cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Uh, hello—“
The dragon roared. He tried several times to climb to his feet, sending bird bones scattering with every movement, but eventually collapsed back down. His head lay on the ground, but his spinning silver eyes never left them. He looked hungry. And desperate.
Mark took a slight step closer. “We’re here to help you. We know that you’re an Immortal. We know that Caine imprisoned you here, and we can free you, if you’ll let us.”
The dragon neither moved nor responded. He just watched. And waited.
Mark inched forward.
Tristan looked between the druid and the dragon’s chain. “Not too much closer or he’ll reach you.”
“He can’t even get up,” Mark said, frowning.
“For a meal, he can.”
Mark paled a bit and nodded. “Do you understand us? Can we help you?”
Still, the dragon said nothing.
The druid inched forward, and everything happened at once. The dragon shot toward him, and Tristan yanked him back, far out of the dragon’s reach.
He roared, massive teeth snapping. Drool rolling from his mouth as he struggled against the chain, flinging his body over and over toward them.
Tristan patted Mark’s shoulder. “He is a beast now and nothing more.”
A second later, they heard something behind them.
Surcy gasped. “What have they done to him?”
“The bastards tortured him,” Daniel muttered.
“And now he’s lost to his primal side,” Mark explained, sounding hopeless. “Tristan may be able to break the chains, but we can’t get close enough without it killing us.”
“So then, let’s feed it,” Daniel said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
They all turned to the fire mage as one.
He shrugged. “The best way to gain an animal’s trust is to feed it and show it that you won’t hurt it. We won’t rescue him quickly, but we can rescue him.”
Mark smiled. “You’re a freaking genius!”
Their plan was harder said than done. Surcy teleported away and appeared back on the ledge below. Tristan plucked her off of it, brought her back to the dragon’s cave, and they threw the dragon whatever meat Surcy had bought. They spent the afternoon doing nothing but feeding the dragon, but even so, it continued to stare at them, waiting for more.
And yet when Tristan moved forward, the creature was always watching, ready to make him his next meal.
They left in the evening and came back each day for seven days. And each day they sensed a change in the dragon. He seemed… less angry. He didn’t roar at their approach, and he didn’t snap when they got closer.
He wasn’t ready yet, but Tristan felt confident that soon he would trust them.
On the seventh day, as they sat at the cave entrance, waiting for the dragon to finish, they heard a strange sound from the back of the cave.
The dragon stiffened and turned slowly, staring into the darkness.
They tensed. Was it Caine’s angels? Or something even more dangerous?
And then, three haggard people appeared at the entrance to a small tunnel. The dragon lunged at them, and the people cowered back, but his chain took him nowhere near them.
One of the people, a woman with long, tangled black hair and a dirt-streaked face looked at them in shock. “We thought… we thought we heard voices.”
Tristan could not take his eyes off of her. She looked as thin and filthy as the dragon. Was she a prisoner here too?
“We’re here to free th
e dragon,” Surcy said, her voice hesitant.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she looked between them and the dragon. “You won’t survive that.”
“We have to try.”
For a long minute, tension sung between them. At last, the woman spoke, “I’m Winter. This is Autumn and Spring. And that dragon,” she said, pointing at it, “is Summer. We are the Immortals of the seasons, and Caine has trapped us here longer than we can remember.”
More Immortals?
“Is there no other way out?” Surcy asked, although they all already knew the answer.
Winter shook her head. “Only past Summer. And he’s no longer himself… just a mindless dragon.”
Surcy stood, and they followed her suit. “Well, we’re here to save all of you from Caine.”
Winter nodded. “I don’t think you’ll succeed, but you’re the first ones to try.”
The man named Autumn took a step closer to them. At one point, his long hair was likely the color of fall leaves, but now it was covered in dirt and grime, so much that the color was a muted brown. “We’ve been surviving on the bugs and rats we find in the tunnels. I’m all for anything that might get us out of this hell. That fucking bastard Caine, leaving us down here like animals, knowing we’ll starve but not die.”
Mark spoke, his words soft. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. But we have a plan, we’re feeding him. We’re going to try to calm him enough to remove his chains. And once he can shift, he should regain some of his mind.”
Autumn looked at the dragon. “Sure you don’t have any dragon tranquilizers?”
Daniel laughed. “If only.”
Spring moved forward. Her hair fell down to her ankles, hair that had once been blonde. And her skin was pale. Dead flowers sprouted from her hair, and her expression was that of hopelessness. “You should know there is another reason why we emerged from the tunnels today.”
Tristan frowned. This doesn’t sound good.
“This is the day the angels come. They give us scraps of food and ask us if we have forgotten the outside world yet.”
Immortal Truths: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 2) Page 7