Immortals of Indriell- The Collection

by Melissa A. Craven

  “It’s as good a place to start as anywhere,” Livia sighed. “Let’s get some rest and we’ll reconvene in the morning to go over our most recent intel. We’ll be on our way—somewhere—by tomorrow afternoon. You two are with me.” She nudged Quinn and Santi out of the room and away from the prying eyes of the rest of her team.

  “It’s getting late.” Livia checked the time as they headed back to her penthouse. “Go nuts in the kitchen. You both have my permission to eat whatever you want. But I would suggest you stick to foods that will give you the most energy. Then get some sleep. Both of you. You’re going to need it.”

  As soon as they entered the foyer, Livia retreated to her study to continue planning their mission, and Santi made for the kitchen at once. She was trembling at the mere thought of a good meal. As she put water on to boil, she struggled with a box of pasta.

  “Sit, Mina,” Quinn said. “It’s my turn to cook for you. What do you want?”

  “I want all the carbs.” She reached for a bag of Cheetos from the pantry along with a jar of peanut butter. “Cheesy pesto pasta with a big juicy steak and lots of garlic bread with cheese. And for dessert I want chocolate cake and ice cream.”

  “And when you puke it all up at three in the morning?”

  “Then I’ll go for round two. Muévete, mija, I’m starving here. Literally.” She snapped her fingers and Quinn poured the pasta into the boiling water.

  “Get the bread,” he called over his shoulder. “The good stuff.”

  “This?” Santi held up a loaf of French bread from the pantry.

  “Yeah.” He grinned.

  “How much you want?” she asked.

  “All of it, baby. I’ve been dreaming about bread.”

  “On it!” She grabbed a tub of garlic butter from the fridge and began slicing up the loaf.

  Quinn busied himself with making a spice rub for the steaks as Santi slid a pan of buttered bread into the oven. “I’ll make all of your requests, but we have to go slow and eat small portions. You haven’t eaten well in months and you need fuel to get you through whatever we’re about to face. We do not need to be sluggish.” Quinn turned to get fresh cilantro and lime from the fridge. “Santi?” His laughter caught in his throat. “What the hell are you eating, babe?”

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.” She dipped another Cheeto into the peanut butter jar.

  “That is disgusting.”

  “Pasta?” She smiled, urging him to get back to work. “It smells good. Where did you learn to cook? Your mom? She’s French, right?”

  “Yeah, but she was a terrible cook. She could bake the most amazing cakes and pastries, but real food was her Achilles heel. I learned from my dad, actually. We pretty much all had to learn how to cook in self-defense. Mom’s idea of a meal was to take all the leftovers from the fridge and make a casserole. She thought if she put enough cream sauce and cheese on it, we wouldn’t notice the taste.”

  “Don’t talk about your family in past tense, Quinnton. You’ll see them again,” she whispered softly as she retrieved the bread from the oven.

  “I know. It’s just easier not to hope. How do you like your steak?”

  “Bloody and juicy.”

  “Coming up in three minutes.” Quinn served them each a small portion of pasta and when the steak was perfectly seared, he split it between them and took his seat beside her. He was so hungry, his hands shook when he lifted his fork.

  “Go slow,” she murmured. “I don’t want you to get sick after so many weeks of bland food and not nearly enough of it.”

  “We eat this, wait twenty minutes and if we don’t puke, we go for seconds?” Quinn asked. “Like maybe some rice and beans, something with protein and carbs?”

  “I think there’s a deep dish pepperoni pizza in the freezer.” She grinned.

  “On it.” Quinn hopped up to put the pizza in the oven.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” she whispered as she piled the last of her pasta onto a slice of garlic bread.

  “If we have a chance, we have to take it,” Quinn said just as carefully. No matter what happened or where they ended up, they had to be prepared to run at a moment’s notice.

  “But Lennox?” Santi’s eyes watered. “I can’t leave her.”

  “We can come back for her. She’s fine here for the time being. My family will help. We’ll buy her if we have to,” he said.

  “Can you do that?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “It would be millions.”

  “It’s doable.” Quinn didn’t want to talk about money when he knew her family struggled with limited resources. “We’ll never be able to help her as long as we’re stuck in this place. James too.” He liked the selfish bastard and wouldn’t think of leaving him behind, especially considering what he was hiding about his gift for prophecy. If they could escape, Quinn would do his damnedest to bring Soma down and free all the slaves harbored behind that brand.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  Quinn: Fall

  Atlanta, Georgia

  “What?” Livia snapped as she answered the phone.

  Quinn stirred restlessly on the floor at the foot of her bed. He was a light sleeper, waking the second the phone rattled on Livia’s bedside table. Santi still slept soundly at his side. It was the first full night in months that she was allowed to sleep without interruption and he didn’t want to disturb her.

  “He’s where?” Livia snarled.

  Quinn shook his head, clearing the cobwebs from his mind. He’d dreamed of home again. His chest burned with the ache of his power. He entered the dreamworld almost every night he slept now. He was almost certain he was a dreamwalker, but without a mentor who could confirm it, he couldn’t be sure. He wandered aimlessly most nights, among the memories of his home, sometimes venturing to places he’d never been. It was usually an eerie place filled with the whisper of voices. He always hoped to see Santi there again, but he hadn’t been able to find her since that first time.

  Other nights, Quinn could sense the unrest of the dreamworld. The echo of screams from the deep recesses of some nightmare. It was a dangerous, ancient and mysterious place. He needed guidance. Someone who knew how to navigate the dreamworld safely. He was afraid of what he might do in his naïveté. Since his Awakening, whenever Quinn used any of his gifts, he felt the lure of the addiction taunting him. It was worse with his gifts for madness and persuasion. Less so with his cloaking gift and his ability to call the elements from the earth; but it was always there, lurking just below the surface. But when he was in the dreamworld, he hardly felt it at all. He could feel the power coursing through him—the power that allowed him to enter the dreamworld—but he didn’t feel the temptation to use more than he needed. It filled him with hope that he might finally have an ability he could use in a positive way.

  But when he returned to the waking world, inevitably embracing his power, the addiction hit him with its full force.

  “Cálmate, Santi whispered as she rubbed the tension from his shoulders. “Take a deep breath and leave the dreams behind,” she whispered in his ear, her voice sleepy and content … for the moment.

  “I should throw you back into Michael’s dungeon and forget about you.” Livia’s cold tone sent chills down his spine. “You think you can spout a fancy history lesson and send us to South America chasing our tails?” She kicked him in the ribs as she marched to her closet, tossing her fatigues and weapons onto the bed.

  “What are you talking about, Liv?” Quinn rubbed his hand over his ribs, wincing at the sting. Even in her bare feet, it was like getting kicked by a horse.

  “Our target has been spotted,” she said, jerking on her black leggings. “Up, both of you. Let’s move.”

  “Who’s the target again?” Santi yawned.

  “The Scholar,” Quinn said. “I told you Rio was a guess, Livia. Where was he sighted?”

  “Your guess was shit. You weren’t even close. And if I find out you were b
ullshitting me, you and your friends will pay for it. I’ll drag every member of your family here and brand them myself.” Her breath came in ragged gasps as she shoved her knives into their sheathes in her boots. “To make matters worse, the intel came from my father. We completely missed the Scholar’s activity over the last twelve hours.”

  “I was making an educated guess based on loosely documented history that your target is responsible for writing. That’s all.” Quinn stood, grabbing his jeans from the small chest where Livia let them keep the few things they had.

  “Let’s go. My office downstairs. Now. We’re briefing the team and then we’re leaving.” Livia slipped a pair of slim metal collars into the hook on her belt. Those collars were intended for at least one of the oldest Immortals still living. But for the moment, they were a reminder of how easily she would use those collars on Quinn and Santi if they displeased her.

  “Well, where is he?” Quinn asked again.

  “Cleveland.” Livia shot him a glare, waiting to see his reaction at the news of where they would be heading in just a few hours.

  “Cleveland?” His heart thumped in his chest at the thought of going home. Why is the Scholar in Cleveland?

  “This has something to do with your family. I don’t know why or how, but I just know it.”

  “I honestly have no clue why the Scholar would be meeting his Complement in Cleveland. If the queen said she was going back to where it all began and she’s been confined for the last two thousand years, I just … I honestly don’t know how that connects, Liv.”

  ~~~

  “What the hell is he doing in Cleveland?” Ryan said the moment they walked into Livia’s office.

  “Show me the photos,” Livia barked.

  Quinn and Santi watched from the sidelines as Ryan and Michael spread photos across her desk. In every image of the Scholar, he was on display, loud and proud. Like he knew Livia was looking for him and he was saying, “Come and get me.”

  Quinn hid his smile. He recognized where the Scholar was. He stood at the center of the sloping green lawn of Edgewater Park, his dark, silvery hair gleaming in the sunlight. He was an average-looking man, seemingly in his early fifties. He was muscular and mostly fit, except for the slight paunch around his middle. He wore a bright red Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and flip-flops. And he was busy flying a white kite, emblazoned with a green dragon. He looked like nothing more than a retiree having a fun day at the park. The man was taunting Livia—and it was working. The tension in the room mounted with her every breath.

  “You should probably see this too, but it’s going to piss you off,” Ryan said as he turned his computer screen toward her. “Remember I’m just the messenger here.”

  He hit play and Quinn watched over Livia’s shoulder at the bad karaoke montage. The Scholar was singing at a club in Cleveland. He’d changed every song lyric just enough to get his point across. He knew she was looking for him and he wanted her to know he was waiting for her. He obviously held no lasting fear that she would actually manage to catch him.

  “This is on YouTube?” she sneered.

  “Yes. It has about half a million hits, but people seem to be forgetting about it as soon as they see it.”

  “He’s deranged.”

  “I like him.” Quinn grinned as the Scholar butchered the lyrics of an old country song.

  “He has that, I-don’t-give-a-shit vibe that old people have sometimes.” Quinn laughed as the Scholar’s voice warbled from the speakers.

  “Turn this bullshit off,” Livia snarled.

  “There’s more,” Michael said as he slid a stack of new photos across the table. “The queen just booked a flight from L.A. to Cleveland for tomorrow.”

  Quinn gazed over her shoulder at the images of the queen.

  “What?” Livia looked at him.

  “Nothing.” Quinn murmured as he took in the silvery-blond woman with the gray eyes. The family resemblance was subtle, in the shape of her face, the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and the curve of her mouth. The woman looked like an older, blond Allie.

  Allie’s a royal? As soon as the thought entered his mind he knew he had to protect Allie’s identity with his very life if he had to. The royals were returning to where it all began. They were rallying around their bloodline. A person, not a physical destination. A person they intended to protect. A person Livia had already shown way too much interest in.

  “You’ve seen her?” Livia demanded.

  “No.” Quinn shrugged. “Just wanted to see what an ancient queen looked like. She’s really Alísun? Never thought I’d see an Immortal so old.”

  “Bullshit. You know something. Tell me.”

  “Liv, I’ve never seen this woman in my life. I can’t tell you anything I haven’t already.”

  Livia snapped her fingers and in the next instant, Ryan had Quinn’s arms behind his back, and Selena had Santi face down on the table with a magnetized knife to her cheek.

  “Livia, I don’t know anything, I swear,” Quinn insisted. He wouldn’t let them ruin Santi’s face. He knew she wouldn’t care. But the magnetic poisoning would scar her for life. He’d seen enough of those scars to know they came with just as much emotional pain as physical. He couldn’t do it to her. The scars around her ankle already caused her enough pain.

  “You took one look at the queen and something clicked. I want to know what you’ve discovered and I want to know now.”

  “I told you. I was just curious,” Quinn said.

  “Michael, go get Lennox.”

  ~~~

  Blood dripped down Santi’s face. The jagged cut from Selena’s knife traced her hairline from her temple down to her collarbone.

  “Don’t do it, Quinn,” she whispered. “It’s just my face. It’s nothing.”

  Lennox whimpered, crouched in the corner of the room where Michael held her in thrall, caught up in some horrific experience she didn’t deserve.

  “Don’t keep making me hurt them, Quinn.” Livia’s voice held a touch of the pain she never let them see. The pain of caring for the people enslaved to her. “He can’t be stopped. Do you even know what that means? Marcus will torment my mother. Punish her for my failures if I don’t give him what he wants. She’s the only family I’ve ever had. He’ll keep me from her until I lay the queen at his feet.” The defeat in her voice showed him she was genuinely terrified of what her father would do to her mother if this mission wasn’t a success.

  “Fine,” Quinn sighed in frustration. “I don’t know why. I promise, I have absolutely no idea … but I think their rally point is Allie.”

  “What is it with that girl?” Livia muttered.

  Quinn didn’t think Livia had put the pieces together yet, but she was a smart woman. She would figure it out, and when she did, she would want Allie more than ever.

  “What are we doing, Liv?” Ryan asked.

  “We’re going to pay a visit to Quinn’s hometown. Let’s go.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER

  NINETEEN

  Sasha: Meithari

  The Chola Valley Temple

  “Get dressed,” Jayesh said.

  Sasha blinked in the early morning light. Her limbs felt heavy and her eyelids were like lead. The last months of heavy training kept her on the brink of exhaustion.

  It’s not months. Not really. She was beginning to understand how the time screw worked here. She’d wake in the mornings to an identical dawn every day, followed by an identical, perfect sunset over the mother’s gardens every evening. She enjoyed her talks with the mother. But each day bled into the next so it started feeling like one really long, monotonous day on endless repeat. Her body felt the passage of time. It should be fall by now, but it was still the height of summer. That was a physical reassurance that her life back home wasn’t speeding along without her.

  And they still hadn’t moved on from meithari yet. Despite the mother’s advice, Sasha found it difficult to give Jayesh her blind trust. She knew she nee
ded to meet him halfway, but she had a visceral need to protect herself from his potential betrayal.

  “What do you want from me, Jay?” She rolled over to stare at him where he stood in her doorway, dressed in his typical linen trousers and sleeveless tunic; his golden armbands glinting in the early light.

  She rarely saw him outside of their daily training. Not since that day on the cliffs when she went off on him. That was months ago. Since then, he’d been methodical in her training, and never let their conversations drift away from the lessons. He withdrew from her almost completely for days at a time, barely speaking to her at all. And then other times, when he praised her progress or they laughed at some shared joke, she could almost swear they were becoming friends. Sasha feared they would never get through meithari and they would be stuck here forever.

  “Just get dressed and meet me in the courtyard.”

  “We going somewhere?” She hoped he wasn’t in the mood for more target practice. She was getting bored with spending so much time shooting at clay birds and grass bales. He’d made a point to make target practice part of her regular routine, but he rarely accompanied her and she hadn’t seen the beautiful sniper rifle since that first day.

  “Yes. We’re taking the day off.” He glanced at her nervously.

  “Why?” She sat up and looked at him like he had three heads. Jayesh didn’t believe in taking time off.

  “Do you trust me?” He gave her a rare smile.

  “No,” she said honestly.

  “That’s why.” He nodded as if she’d confirmed something important. “Dress comfortably. We’ll be riding a long way.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise.” He winked and left her staring after him.

  “Did he just smile?” Imogen asked as she came into Sasha’s room bearing a breakfast tray. It was their morning ritual to sit and talk over breakfast before they each left for training.

  “He did. Freaky, right? It seems we’re taking the day off.”

  “What’s going on with you two? Any progress?” Imogen asked. The dark circles under her eyes worried Sasha, but Gen refused to talk about her training with the mother.