Order of the Omni: A Supernatural Romantic Suspense Novel (The Immortalies Book 1)

by Penny Knight

  “Yep, that’s her. She’s walking towards you now.”

  I get my phone out and pretend to look at it, hoping to create a false sense of security as she approaches. She doesn’t even pretend to order a drink or make it subtle. She pulls out the chair, takes the envelope, and walks straight towards the exit.

  “What’s the bet the cash is inside?” Topher verbalises my exact thought. Six hundred and fifty dollars, to be exact.

  Heat hits me again, causing me to straighten in my chair, right behind my neck. It burns. I wince and turn to watch her walk away.

  “She’s heading to reception,” I say through clenched teeth. “Are you in the system yet?”

  “Nah, not yet. Give me a bit, they have good security here. Shouldn’t take too long, though.” If there’s a way in the network, Topher will exploit it. There’s no doubt.

  I take a longer sip of my drink. It goes down too well. But it does nothing to quell the heat that burns up from my neck. It gets stronger and stronger. I lean my hands on the bar. The marble offers cool relief. How weird would it be if I lay my head down. Just for a bit.

  A bead of sweat falls from my forehead, the pain intensifies to a peak I’ve not experienced before.

  I want to scream.

  I want to cry.

  “That’s an interesting mark,” says a deep voice behind me. I close my eyes for a moment to gain some composure and inhale. This is the last thing I need.

  I turn.

  “God fucking damn!” Topher whistles in my ear.

  For a moment it all stills. Standing in front of me, I look up to intense deep blue eyes with flecks of a chilling ice blue around the irises. His thick black hair is in the perfect place, showing control and order, but contrasts with the scruff of stubble on his face. His white crisp shirt shows some muscled, tanned skin thanks to his two loose buttons. And to top it all off, he owns his blue vested suit like a model walking for Tom Ford. If my temperature wasn’t already rising, he surely could make it jump.

  “E, the target is making his way into the lift. We need to find that room number. And I still need time to crack their system.” Topher brings me back to reality.

  “Thanks,” I mumble to the hot guy and turn back to the bar, grabbing my cocktail and preparing to bolt. Besides the explosion in my head, I’m not interested in small talk.

  When I turn back, I realise he is still there and is not alone. A familiar face stares back at me. The porter from outside.

  I sensed her before I could see her. A feeling unbeknownst to me in all my years, which is telling. Not the sensing her, my abilities are unrivalled with that, but the feeling that followed. Hope. Today could be the day my immortal life changes. One that could alter the fate of all humanity. Intense is an understatement. My expectations were high, they would be. I’ve waited two thousand years on the Oracle’s words. But that was the first thing that left me, my words. When she turned and I saw her beauty right in front of me.

  Seeing the mark branded on her, finally baring itself to me, it was hard not to get excited. I’ve waited so long with too many disappointments recorded. This could be a trick. A sick one, but something that I must consider.

  I need this to go well and handle the situation with precision. Too much rides on this encounter.

  She turns around after initially blowing me off. Recognition flashes across her face when her eyes land on Steve. A loyal employee, and the one who reported it to me.

  This brown-eyed vision in front of me is clearly in duress. There’s something ailing her. Pain? Fatigue?

  Her face is shiny from perspiration and redness creeps up her neck. It’s normal for a woman to blush at the sight of me. But this was something else. There is suffering in her eyes, not just the physiological type which I see buried beneath. This is clearly caused by physical pain she is fighting. Right now.

  “Steve says you had an unfavourable encounter outside the hotel?” I ask even if I’ve already viewed the surveillance tapes, and the question is pointless. What I learn, is not. Her hand rubs the back of her neck and she winces. Interesting. Or is that just me searching for any sign to confirm what I want to believe. A human trait that’s hard to kick. One that has proved lethal from the many unnecessary wars and years upon years of deliberate misuse.

  “Uh, yeah. No, I mean it was fine.” She shrugs and stands. Her first response to me nowhere in sight. It appears she can’t get away from me fast enough. That is not an option.

  “It was nuts,” Steve says. “The woman grabbed her, then she fell flat on her arse,” my employee adds. She shoots him a look of annoyance and I fight a smirk.

  “Are you a guest in the hotel?” I ask and hope she says yes. She looks down to the right, with a slightly furrowed brow. This anomaly in front of me is ever more intriguing.

  She looks to the left, and processes whatever bullshit she’s about to say to me. My question was easy, so taking even a second to consider the answer piques my interest.

  “Yes... I mean, I was intending to be.” Her demeanour has changed. Instead of ready to flee, she straightens, her voice turning controlled. “I was meant to. But, it looks like there’s been a mix up. So I don’t think I will be staying.” She doesn’t realise whatever mix up there is, and for my staff’s sake I hope it’s not on our end, that she is talking to the one person who can, no, will fix it for her.

  “Well, this works well. I am actually here to offer you a stay at the hotel, complimentary. For the troubles you encountered outside,” I say.

  Her eyebrows raise in surprise, then eyes flicker down to the right. Her head turns slightly. It’s then I catch the hint of a small device in her ear. Small, but definitely there. A listening device. Maybe a cop, perhaps? Whatever the reason, I stand taller. She is up to something. This could complicate things, if it’s in direct conflict with me.

  She nibbles the inside of her lip, and my previous thoughts replaced with the flicker of her tongue, catching a different part of my attention. Breaking my concentration and throwing me off kilter. This is unnerving. I don’t get affected like this. It has to be the mark, surely.

  “Well,” she says sweetly. I cock my head to the side, enthralled to whatever may come next. “I have one of those things...” She searches for the right word with pursed lips. “You could call it an OCD thing. I have this new assistant. He tries hard, but he gets preoccupied easily, shiny objects and all.” She offers a small giggle; it seems forced, but still endearing.

  “Yes, continue,” I urge her.

  “He booked the wrong room. I have terrible anxiety and need to stay on the seventh floor. It’s the number, you know. Seven,” she shrugs. “It’s hard to explain, but I only feel safe on seven.”

  “And there are no rooms available on seven?” I ask. She doesn’t need to answer, I know there is. Two, in fact. There’s nothing I don’t know about in my hotel. Well, except for today, and her motivations of being here. This rubbish she is feeding me is just that. There is more to her story. Whatever that is, it’s on the seventh floor.

  “I’m not sure. I think he’s trying to sort it out.”

  “Easy. I can talk with the reservation staff. Seventh floor, correct?” This is turning out better than expected. If I can just get her in a room, the next step would be to find a way to keep her here.

  “Yes,” she says. Her voice is terse, so whatever ailment she has seems to have gotten worse. “Oh, and I would really feel more comfortable facing the hills. Again, it’s one of those things.”

  Whatever she wants. A room with a view. Sure.

  “And a SPA,” she almost yells. Embarrassment flashes over her face and tries again. “Oh, and I would like a spa,” she says softly, about five seconds from fainting.

  What is wrong with her?

  I try to pull the answers out, searching in her eyes. To forge deeper inside her being. Our eyes are locked. The air thickens. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest builds an overwhelming urge to have her.

  Right here. Ri
ght now.

  This must be it. She has to be the one. The mark is real. How else can I explain my hormones acting like a teenager. After all these years, I’ve become a master at deterring physical attraction. Being the ruler of the Immortalies comes first. And it’s the first weakness of any man. But this chemistry is electric and consuming.

  For her, though, she looks ill.

  Her brows furrow, and with a shake of her head, she looks away. Breaking our connection. Disappointment washes through my veins. I want more. Much more.

  “Leave it to me.” My voice comes out hoarse.

  “Ok, thanks.” She doesn’t give me her eyes again as she walks right past me. I close mine as her scent infiltrates my senses. When she is out of earshot, I turn to my employee by my side. “Make it happen,” I almost growl.

  I watch as she settles at her table until her companion, a skinny young guy with shoulder length sandy hair and a white t-shirt, sits across from her.

  It has begun.

  I retreat to one of my offices in the hotel. There’s many. This one’s behind security and reception. The need to be close, overpowering.

  A knock sounds at my door.

  “Yes?” I say, eyes glued to the screen in front. Replaying the surveillance video of her. Broderick opens the door and nods, showing respect. He closes it and sits on the leathered couch across me. “Is it done?”

  “Sure is,” he says. “We’ve put her in holding before sending her off for interrogation.” As always, completing his assignment.

  “Good. She must know something.” I take a satisfying breath, knowing the old woman from outside will give us more information. I notice no response from my general. When I lift my gaze, his eyes are fixed on me.

  “Is it true?” he sits forward. “Has the prophecy started?” He’s a well-trained officer and wise enough to conceal the emotion in his voice. He wants the facts.

  “I cannot be certain, but the signs so far have been positive. Yeah, could be it.”

  He rises.

  “Then tell me what I can do. How can I help?” he says, ready to plunge into action.

  “I know things have been escalating on the streets. I promise, we will find victory soon.”

  “It’s getting out of hand. We need an heir to shut The Uprising up. Belief is low, obviously.”

  Another reminder that I’ve waited two thousand years to find my mate. It’s been my privilege to birth the new heir, but also my curse.

  “Once we find her name. I need all her information as soon as possible.” I stand.

  There’s another knock at my door, this one quieter.

  “Come in,” I say. Mustering up my hotel boss persona. Knowing it most likely will be a human employee.

  The door opens just enough for Amanda to peek in, the head of our reception department.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Devarai,” she says warmly.

  “Did you find the room I need?” I motion for her to come in further.

  “Yes, sir, I did. I just need the visitor to complete the registration.”

  “Great, well done. I will get it and meet you at reception shortly.” I dismiss her. She takes her cue, smiling as she leaves my office.

  I collect my jacket from the chair and throw it back on. Fixing the lapels, I cannot help but catch the anticipation building within me, knowing I will be in contact with her again.

  What just happened to me? With sweaty fingers, I snatch the napkin on the table and wipe the perspiration that’s formed on my hairline. I was on fire, but with no flames. As if someone was holding a curling iron on the back of my neck, pressing harder and harder. Getting through that encounter with him was excruciating. Add having Topher in my ear and I just wanted the earth to swallow me up.

  Now, back at the table, the pain is gone. Nothing. No fire, no headache. I am nowhere near one hundred percent. My muscles are achy and weak. The Cosmo is going down easily, and I could probably sleep for three days straight. But the pain is gone, that’s all that matters right now. I might just save this shit-show of a day and finish this job after all.

  The box in my head is getting full. I’m struggling to keep the lid closed. I’m trying to add what just happened to it, but it won’t fit. The longer that man was in front of me, the more the fire from inside me burned. And not that good fire feeling. The dreams? The woman outside? Now this guy. What the hell is going on? If I could rewind today, I wouldn’t get out of bed.

  Worse of all was the way he was staring. I wanted to scream. It was too much, too intense. Like he was trying to read my whole life story. My performance was pitiful. I cringe at the things I said, the way I acted. It was not how I’ve been trained. I’m better than that.

  The chair screeches on the marble as Topher drops in front of me, reaching straight for the drink that is nearly finished and downing the rest in one gulp.

  “Ah, that’s it.” He slumps in his chair. “Dude, I don’t know what’s hotter? That fucken van or that walking delight of an Adonis.”

  I shake my head. Please, like he can talk about being hot. I just walked through hell.

  “He watched you, you know?” he says, cocking his eyebrow.

  “Huh, who?”

  “Adonis,” he winks at me, giving me a mischievous smile. I guess we found our nickname for him.

  “No, nope. Don’t even go there. So not in the mood today.” The last thing I need is Topher on my case about my dating life, or lack thereof.

  “E, are you kidding me right now? Did you not see him?” he screeches.

  “Shh, relax,” I blow out a breath. “I was working, not worried about how hot that guy was.” Clearing my throat, I sit straight in my chair. “I am a professional.”

  He sits staring at me, then bursts out laughing.

  “No, darlin’. You are a prude.” He continues to laugh.

  My mouth drops open until I purse my lips in protest. “No, I’m not!” I cross my arms and he laughs louder.

  Dropping my head in my hands, I close my eyes. I could sleep right now. Topher gently touches my arm.

  “Hey, you ok?” His tone is warmer. “You still got that headache?” I look up. The concern in his eyes obvious.

  “Nah, actually it’s gone. I feel ok, just tired.”

  I notice him grinding his teeth. A clear tell he wants to say something he knows I don’t want to hear. He sighs, long and dramatic.

  “I know what you’re thinking?” I say.

  “Do you?” he shoots back.

  “Yes, I do.” I gather his hand in mine. “I will go to the doctors, ok? As soon as we’re done here. I’ll make another appointment.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Promise?”

  “Promise.” I give him a small wink. His body loosens, and he knows I’m always true to my word.

  We have gone through way too much. There is nothing I would lie to him about and vice versa. Back when he first lived with me, I know I was hard on him. I didn’t know any better. That’s how Franziska raised me, to be tough. Crying and wallowing will get you nowhere. She was regimented, and I guess it gave me the work ethic I have now. Probably why I am sitting here and haven’t bailed.

  Topher had basic rules if he wanted to stay with me. School was number one. He fought me on it, as any fourteen-year-old would if they thought they were living it up in their own flat. That wouldn’t fly with me. He had to go. I know he had a rough time, being different and all. He was bullied excessively at school. Coming home crying to me.

  I had been there, too. I had it rough at school, being quiet and an introvert. So, I gave him the same treatment I had, it was all I knew. I told him to suck it up. They wouldn’t change. And crying won’t make it better. He had to be better.

  What he didn’t know? Even though I told him to get over it, I sure as hell didn’t. I found the main culprit at his school and stalked him and his family. What I found on the mum. Priceless. She got very friendly with the workmen renovating her pool house. They had a grand old time, all eight of them. Believe
me, you do not want to know the details about it. It still makes me shiver when I think of the photos I took of her. One person who wasn’t invited was her husband. It was all I needed to convince her to transfer her shit of a kid out of the school.

  The bullying didn’t stop, but at least the physical pain he suffered from this boy did. It was more bearable for him. Was it illegal? Yeah, I blackmailed her. But ask me if I care one bit. Nope. Not in the slightest. Franziska may think he needed to learn the lesson himself. To become tougher, more resilient. But I hate people getting away with shitty things. It was my first taste of investigations, and I was hooked.

  My respite is short lived, and it feels like an ember is flicked on my skin. The heat rising again, coming from the back of my neck. A slow burn creeps up. Not piercing, yet.

  “Adonis is on the way back. Be nice. We need the room,” Topher warns.

  Of course, he’s on his way back. My neck is on fire again. He’s the reason, I know it. As crazy as it sounds, this man is burning me alive.

  Trying to find a comfortable position in this chair seems impossible. I know he’s coming closer as my pain intensifies. It steadies right before I hear his husky voice.

  “We have found your room.” I look up to him. Big mistake, it made it worse. How am I going to get through this? “If you would like to come with me, Mrs...?” he asks.

  “Whetherall, Miss Whetherall,” Topher emphasizes the Miss in my fake last name he spews. “I’m Topher, the assistant,” he says. Why did he say his real name? I don’t have the strength to get angry.

  The mans eyes trail off me to Topher.

  “Topher, my name is Leo.” He extends his hand. Topher eagerly takes it in his and gives it a firm shake. “If you and Miss Whetherall would like to come with me, we can check you in at reception.” He motions his hand forward for us to follow.

  I cannot go with this man. In fact, I cannot even be around him any longer. I try to stand, but my legs are weak. I hold the table for support and refuse to look at him again.

  “Topher, you go with Mr.... Umm?” I try to remember his name. Things are fogging up in my brain.