The Silver Bird: Immortal Secrets Trilogy Book One (Immortals Secrets Trilogy 1)

by S J Williams

  “No, I absolutely do not.” She folded her arms, drawing herself away from them and effectively setting up a barrier between them. He tried not to wince. He couldn’t leave her now. Not when she showed every sign of wanting to disappear again. Her phone was still in her hand. She was seconds away from calling the police again.

  “We know things about your boss. We can answer all the questions I’m sure you want to ask.” He said in one last bid to tempt her into following them. “These are things you need to know and I promise I will tell you everything. Just come with us now.”

  Effie shook her head. “If I want answers, I can just ask Roberto. He has no reason to hide from me. I certainly don’t need anything from you.”

  Oh, how wrong you are.

  “Sebastian!” Henry had to physically haul him away from Effie’s determined eyes. “You don’t have a choice.”

  Sebastian read Henry’s meaning in his mind. No, he didn’t have a choice.

  Please, forgive me, my love.

  When he turned back to meet Effie’s eyes, he pushed power into his gaze.

  Controlling humans was a skill he didn’t much like to use. He knew all too well what it felt like to have his choices ripped from him, to be helpless to another’s power. To control Effie felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

  Alarm widened Effie’s eyes even as her arms dropped to her sides and she picked up her suitcase handle. Next came raw, naked fury as she walked, outwardly calm, after them, down the stairs and into the street. Her emotions nearly made Sebastian pause. Humans weren’t normally aware when he controlled him. That Effie could feel his control was… interesting. Sebastian had to walk backwards down the stairs to manage her. He could feel her fighting him, fighting the compulsion to obey his will. Strong. She was so strong. Immortal strong.

  Henry gently took her suitcase from her when she reached the bikes.

  You take the suitcase and I’ll take Effie. You’ll need to keep her in eyesight.

  Sebastian shook his head, interrupting his friend.

  She’s too strong. I’ll need to keep physical contact.

  Henry’s face twisted. He had to admit, he didn’t like the plan either. He didn’t want to take the chance that Effie would do something desperate. Like try to jump off a moving motorbike.

  “Please be sensible.” He whispered in her ear as he helped her to sit on the bike in front of him. It wasn’t ideal but she was just about small enough to fit. It would also mean she was effectively caged between his arms.

  As soon as they broke eye contact, Effie began to struggle. Sebastian quickly dropped a helmet on her head and leapt onto the bike behind her. Revving the engine, he roared away, leaving Henry behind to deal with her suitcase.

  I’ve been kidnapped.

  The words went round and round in Effie’s brain, occasionally punctuated by the far more disturbing thought.

  These men are not normal.

  She could have tried to convince herself that she’d been drugged, that they had somehow slipped her something which had taken away her willpower and made her go with them. But that just didn’t add up with what had happened.

  It had been his eyes, she knew, that had held her captivated. Like a vaudeville hypnotist, he’d stared at her and she had… she didn’t know quite what. It was like her body was working on muscle memory. In her mind, she’d wanted to do one thing and her body had happily gone on doing another, all by itself. Or perhaps, with a little help from Sebastian.

  That control had slipped when he lost eye contact. For a moment, when he’d put her on the bike, he’d turned his back and full control of her body had returned to her along with a wave of nausea. If she hadn’t been concentrating so hard on not emptying her stomach all over the bike handles, she might have made a run for it. Then he had got on behind her and running away would have meant wrestling out of his arms and jumping off a moving motorbike.

  He looked normal, but he wasn’t. He could control her mind. Who knew what else he could do?

  And now, here she was, riding down the streetlamp lit streets of Florence with two strange men going who knew where.

  At least Roberto would be happy. She was doing what he wanted. All she had to do now was get the medallion for him and he’d probably be singing her praises.

  Did she want to do that? No.

  Roberto had got her into this mess. There was no way she was going to go deeper just to please him. Besides, she didn’t know what these men could do. How would they react if she took off with their medallion? Probably not well, even if Sebastian had offered it to her. If that medallion was special and he wanted to give it to her, that probably meant it would tie her to them somehow or to some bigger picture.

  God. Forget about being in a Bond film. This was starting to look much more like the plot line to the next Marvel blockbuster.

  The bikes slowed outside the gates to an old courtyard. Without pause, the gates opened smoothly. As Sebastian rode them through, Effie peered round at them suspiciously. Were they controlled by some automatic system? Or something stranger, like that thing with the gallery lock?

  The courtyard opened onto an old, large house with wings that stretched on either side. It was beautiful, glowing in the light of two filigreed lanterns hung on either side of the front door. In daylight, she thought, it would be a brilliant gold, a testament to the beauty of Renaissance architecture.

  She swallowed her sigh. Was there some rule against falling in love with the house of your kidnappers? She would have to work hard not to be too charmed by her golden cage.

  The bikes swung round to the side of the house and down to an underground garage. Another electronically – it must be electronic – controlled gate closed behind them and lights flickered on. They illuminated what might have been an old cellar. Bricked up arches lined the walls and, despite the evidence of modern retrofitting to make the space suitable for keeping vehicles, it almost felt like she had ridden back in time.

  Sebastian and Henry simultaneously cut the bike engines and sudden silence crashed in on them.

  Henry immediately started dismounting and unloading her suitcase from the back of his bike. Sebastian, however, remained still behind her, his arms still encasing her on the bike. It drove home to her just how much bigger he was than her. She didn’t quite feel like a child next to him but it was a close thing. Strength. He radiated strength from the muscles she could feel flexing in his forearms and thighs to the hard lines of his lean torso. Not even the leather jacket could disguise it.

  It wasn’t fair, she thought. How could a beautiful man who lived in a beautiful house in one of the most beautiful cities in the world be a kidnapping bastard?

  Slowly, as if (accurately) expecting her to flee at any moment, Sebastian let go of the handlebars and reached for her helmet. As she felt the heavy, confining weight of it slide off her head, she struggled to think of what, if anything, she could do to get out of this situation.

  Not without the suitcase. That suitcase contained for her what was left of her life. Without it, she’d be running with nothing but the clothes on her back. She wouldn’t even have her passport. And then there was the laptop bag with all of her notes. It wasn’t much without her work on the laptop, but maybe she could salvage something of the past year of research. An article at least?

  The slightly hysterical thought was lost when she felt control abruptly return to her limbs, along with that horrible wave of nausea.

  “Effie?” Sebastian murmured.

  She turned her head slightly, careful to keep her eyes averted and her lips tight shut.

  “We’re going to walk into the house from here. I’d be very grateful if you postponed your escape attempt until after I can answer some of your questions.”

  Hmmm. Either he had a sense of humour or he could read her mind. She wished she could just dismiss the latter option.

  Deciding she wasn’t in immediate danger of throwing up, she asked, “You seem to be very practiced at this. Do you o
ften kidnap women?” She wanted to scowl at him but looked doggedly straight ahead. Fool me once and all that.

  He chuckled, a sound that seemed to hit her right in the solar plexus and then reverberate out across her whole body. Damn. Why did he affect her like this?

  “Believe me, I am far from practised at this. You are the first woman I’ve ever had to force to do anything.”

  She couldn’t help herself; she glanced up at him. A crooked smile tracked across his face. It made him impossibly more handsome. She looked away again.

  “I bet that makes you feel terribly smug.”

  The chuckle came back, wry this time.

  “Not right now, it doesn’t.”

  Henry, her suitcase in hand, was waiting for them at an inner door that led to the rest of the house. Sebastian stepped off the bike and gestured elegantly for her to walk ahead of him.

  “If you’d like to come this way?”

  With one last glance at the outer garage door, Effie swung her leg over the back of the motorbike and followed after Henry, Sebastian on her heels.

  5

  There are some houses where it seems time has stood still and where the beauty of past centuries is allowed to remain untouched by its ravages. Effie had found one of those houses.

  They walked through a narrow corridor lined with patterned tiles into a large, airy vestibule. Panelled glass doors graced one end, spilling moonlight into the hall. Beyond them, a verdant courtyard promised an oasis of calm in the busy city centre. On their right, a double set of stairs curved away and up into the rest of the house, delicately lined with a slender balustrade. The space, a glowing masterpiece of dusky golds and oranges, was softly illuminated by a gilded chandelier that hung as a centrepiece from a magnificently painted ceiling.

  Effie tried very hard not to gape as Henry led the way to an equally gorgeous living area split into two halves with a large dining table dominating one end. If ever Effie felt like settling down, this was the kind of house she’d like to live in. After she won the lottery, of course.

  She caught sight of herself in a long mirror which hung along one of the walls. Her hair was tousled from the helmet and her clothes looked like she’d worn them for a week. The woman in the reflection was sadly out of place in the aristocratic surroundings, like a peasant girl who had somehow been swept into the residence of a prince.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, hating that she suddenly felt so self-conscious.

  Setting her suitcase down beside a finely upholstered chair, Henry gestured for her to sit. For a moment, she considered rebelling but the long day was catching up with her and her legs were close to buckling. Rather than embarrass herself by collapsing, she sat.

  “Now,” said Henry, sitting opposite her and leaning forwards, his hands clasped loosely between his knees. “I’m sure you have questions for us.”

  She glanced at Sebastian who remained standing, a dark, brooding presence by the door. Henry followed the direction of her gaze. He cleared his throat.

  Sebastian, who had been staring at her, glanced at Henry, one eyebrow raised. She looked between them, confused once again by this form of non-verbal communication they seemed to have. Henry sighed, shook his head, and turned back to her.

  Questions. Yes, she did have questions, lots of them. She started with the most important one.

  “What do you want with me and Roberto?”

  Henry coughed again, looking embarrassed. “Ah. Well, we can’t really answer that one. At least,” he added hastily when she glared at him, “not straight away. We need to add a bit of background context before our reasons will make sense to you.”

  “All right then. How about this one. What are you?”

  By the door, Sebastian snorted quietly. Henry, on the other hand, beamed at her.

  “An excellent starting point.” He glanced at Sebastian again who finally walked into the centre of the room to take a seat beside her. He angled the seat so he could see her without turning his head and sat, never once taking his eyes off her. She made sure she didn’t meet his gaze.

  “We”, Sebastian said simply, “are immortals.”

  She couldn’t help staring at him at those words. Quickly, she flinched away, turning instead to look at Henry, who was wearing an exasperated expression.

  “Immortals?” She repeated dubiously. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means,” said Henry, “that we possess… I guess you could call it a kind of energy that sustains us and gives us power we can manipulate to do what humans might call miracles, including healing, both ourselves and others.”

  “Right.” Effie said slowly. She was mentally revising her conviction that drugs were not involved. “So, you live forever?”

  Henry’s face screwed up as he rocked a little. “Technically no because we do age, albeit very slowly, and our energy will eventually fade and die after a few thousand years. We might not even survive that long. We’re not immune to fatal accidents. But, compared to humans, we are very long lived.”

  Effie just stared at him. Drugs were definitely involved. Maybe they’d slipped her something and she hadn’t noticed?

  A flash of steel caught her attention. A knife had appeared in Sebastian’s hand. Before she could react, he calmly bared his wrist and drew the knife blade along the back of his forearm. A bright line of red followed in its wake.

  Effie froze, the word of protest strangled in her tight throat. What did he think he was doing?

  Still in that calm and efficient manner, Sebastian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the blood. Before her eyes, the slitted tissue on his arm sealed itself back together. Sebastian finished mopping up the blood, flexed his wrist and held it out to her to inspect.

  Effie froze, her mind torn between amazement and a powerful urge to run away as fast as was humanly possible. It was completely healed.

  “How— How…” She stuttered weakly before trailing off. Swallowing, she tried again. “How did you do that?”

  “Our energy can be used for healing, as Henry said.” Sebastian’s voice was matter of fact, as if he wasn’t talking about something from fantasy or science fiction at the very least.

  “But you can die?” She asked, remembering Henry’s qualification.

  “Yes. If enough damage is inflicted, especially to the brain, even our ability to heal will not be enough. Though, there is evidence that we can be reborn.” He said that last bit with a strange emphasis she didn’t understand.

  “And you could heal me, if I was hurt?” Effie asked, a little less sceptical this time.

  Sebastian offered the knife to her. “You’re welcome to a demonstration if you like.”

  Effie eyed the knife and shook her head. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Henry cleared his throat again. “Before we get bogged down with the details, perhaps you will allow us to tell you what else we can do, and why we are here?”

  With one last uneasy glance at Sebastian, she faced Henry. “Okay.”

  “Just promise not to dismiss this as a fairy story out of hand.” Henry said, flashing her a charming smile.

  “I’m not sure I could dismiss it after…” She gestured at Sebastian.

  “Quite.” Henry drew in a deep breath. “You’ll have to bear with me, I’m not used to telling this story so I may backtrack at times. Normally, we keep the oddities of our existence a secret. In fact, it is our law to do so.”

  I can imagine, Effie thought, her head feeling like everything sensible had been blown out, leaving her with an empty shell. I’m too tired for this, was her next thought.

  “We are not human but we do come from the human race.” Henry began. “Our true origins are lost to time or evolution, depending on how you like to look at it. All we can say for certain is that we are born human but with a little extra potential which means that, should we be found by an immortal and agree to be turned, we too can become immortal.”

  “Like vampires?” Effie blurted out.
>
  The atmosphere got noticeably cooler as the tension ratcheted up.

  “We are not vampires.” Sebastian said, the threat of a growl in his voice.

  “Perhaps I should add,” Henry continued, with a warning glance at Sebastian, “that vampires also exist. We are not the only kind of immortal out there. Vampires’ existence is different to ours, even if they come from the same stock of potential immortals. There’s something of a competition between us to find potential immortals and turn them. Suffice to say, we are not friends.”

  All the hairs on Effie’s body were stood on end. Clearly, vampires was a sensitive subject. And yet, she dared ask the question she knew would haunt her if she just let it go.

  “But you admit that you are related to vampires?”

  “In a sense. We have similar abilities and live for about the same length of time.” Henry’s lips twisted. “That, thankfully, is where the similarity ends. When we are turned, our energy gives us more strength, speed and agility than average humans, as well as certain psychic gifts. I believe you’ve already experienced mind control. Different immortals have different gifts.”

  “Such as?” Effie prompted.

  Henry shrugged. “We could have psychometry, telekinesis, telepathy, foresight, empathy and so on. We never have more than one or two talents though what determines the talents we do get, I couldn’t tell you.” He gave her a wry smile. “As old as we are, even we have not solved all our mysteries.”

  Mind control? Was that what it had been? Not drugs? It was incredible but Effie found the psychic explanation more likely than narcotics.

  “To be a vampire,” Henry continued, “means something very different. The energy that keeps them alive works differently to ours. They have all the physical strengths but to a much higher degree. They also have to pay a different price. They need to drink human blood to survive. On the flip side, their mental abilities are no way near as powerful or as extensive as ours. They really only have a limited bit of mind control. Just enough to keep their victims docile while feeding.”

  “But people must notice they’ve lost a lot of blood when they wake up, mustn’t they?” Effie asked, sceptical once more. Surely people would have posted on social media by now about waking up with puncture marks on their necks or something.