Dark Survivor Echoes of Love

by I. T. Lucas

  “I’m okay, but some of the guys are much better than me. Yamanu and Arwel are excellent, and Kian is probably the best at it. You know how it works. The less diluted your blood is, the stronger the abilities.”

  It was a misconception, but before Ruth could answer Jackson, Lori opened the back door and poked her head outside.

  “Guys? Are you coming in? There is no one manning the register.”

  Jackson lifted two fingers. “We’ll be back in two minutes.”

  “What do I do with the customers until then?”

  “Write down the orders, and they will pay for them when they leave.”

  “Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” The girl waved a hand. “Take your time.”

  Given the smirk on Lori’s face, she probably thought that there was something going on between Jackson and Ruth, even though it was a ridiculous notion given that both of their partners visited the café often.

  The girl had to be clueless not to realize that the two of them were in committed relationships with other people. Even a blind person could see that Jackson was totally in love with Tessa. Ruth wasn’t as extroverted with her feelings toward Nick, but still, they should’ve been obvious as well.

  “It’s not true what you said about the abilities being stronger the closer an immortal is to the godly source. As far as I know, Sari has no special abilities aside from being a great businesswoman. And Alena is wonderfully fruitful for an immortal female, but she has no other special talents. I’m not aware of Amanda having any either, does she?”

  “Aside from being a freaking neuroscience professor? I don’t think so.”

  “You see?” Ruth waved a hand. “That proves it. Annani’s daughters have the least diluted genes of all of us, and they are not more powerful.”

  Jackson frowned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right as far as special talents go. Thralling is something every immortal can do to some extent. But males are much better at it than females because we get more practice. Everyone knows Kian is the best at it.”

  “True. So what are you trying to say, that I should ask Kian if he is willing to thrall Nick?”

  “What I’m saying is that if nothing else works, you can ask Kian as a last resort.”

  Ruth sighed. “I’ll keep it in mind. First, I want to see what Bridget has to say. She has a lot of experience with transitioning Dormants.”

  “We should get back inside.”

  “Yeah.” Ruth glanced at her watch. “Rick is picking me up in ten minutes.”

  46

  Kian

  Kian picked up his phone. “What can I do for you, Bridget?”

  “Do you have a few moments to discuss Nick’s transition? I hate to bother you with that, but Ruth has some concerns.”

  “Of course.” He got up and opened the door. Conveniently, Bridget’s office was down the hall from his. That was when she could get away from the clinic and actually do the job she’d volunteered for instead of filling in for Julian. “Come right in. The door is open.”

  It was about time Ruth and Nick made up their minds whether they were meant for each other or not. Eva could go into labor any day now, and she was still refusing to move into the village until Nick transitioned.

  In her mind, there was no doubt that he would. And since she’d been right about Tessa and Sharon, whose talents were much less apparent than Nick’s, Kian had little reason to doubt that either.

  What irked him, though, was the doctor’s apologetic tone. She’d made it sound as if the guy was of no importance, and as if dealing with whatever troubled Ruth about his transition was a nuisance Bridget was loath to bother Kian with.

  It couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  Maybe he needed to remind her that potential Dormants were of utmost importance to the clan. All other considerations, economic and humanitarian, took a backseat to this. The future of the clan depended on finding Dormants and their successful transition to immortality.

  Apart from the obvious problem of extinction, the effect of solitary life was corrosive to the mental health of his clansmen and women. Finding Syssi had changed Kian’s life so profoundly, giving it a meaning and a future he hadn’t dreamt of, that he often felt guilty about having been granted such an incredible boon while others remained lonely.

  That was why he’d approved Julian’s week-long absence to attend a psychic convention even though it put additional strain on Bridget’s time. Every possible avenue, no matter how improbable, was worth investigating.

  “Come in.” He waved Ruth and the doctor in.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Bridget said.

  “Yes, thank you,” Ruth mumbled under her breath.

  “Never hesitate to come to me with anything that has to do with Dormants. I will always make time for that.” He motioned to the two chairs facing his desk. “Please take a seat.”

  When they did, he walked over to the bar and opened the fridge. “Can I offer you anything to drink? Water? Soda? Something stronger?” As was his habit, he managed to get himself all riled up and needed something to calm him down.

  “No, thank you,” Ruth said.

  Bridget put her tablet down. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  It was late afternoon, a perfect time for a drink, but maybe he should wait for his meeting with Onegus. The ladies might frown on him grabbing a beer in the middle of his workday. With Syssi’s encouragement, he was putting some effort into improving his public image. The squeeze balls she’d gotten him for stress relief would do for now.

  He pulled out three small bottles of carbonated water and put two in front of his guests, even though Ruth had declined his offer. The way her eyes were darting around, she was nervous as hell, which usually resulted in a dry mouth.

  And people thought he had no empathy.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked.

  “Ruth, could you tell Kian what you’ve told me?”

  Clutching the plastic bottle, Ruth nodded, took in a breath, and then finally looked him in the eyes.

  Good for her. It was about time the woman developed some backbone.

  “I’m ready to tell Nick about the possibility of him being a Dormant.”

  Kian smiled in what he thought was an encouraging way. “Congratulations.” Dialing down his intensity was one more thing Syssi had told him he needed to work on. According to his wife, it came through as aggression and intimidated people, which was probably doubly true for someone as timid as Ruth.

  She shook her head. “But there is a problem. He might be an immune. The one time I tried to peek into his mind, I couldn’t. I know I’m not very good at it, but I had no problem with other humans.” Suddenly aware of the incriminating implications of her admission, Ruth looked up at him with worried eyes. “I didn’t thrall anyone. I just took a quick peek once in a long while. I hope that’s okay. I’m not a lawbreaker.”

  He lifted his hand. “That’s okay, Ruth. No need to apologize. Did anyone else try to thrall Nick? Wasn’t Jackson supposed to do it for Eva’s wedding?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t. Instead, he got Nick drunk.”

  “Because he couldn’t?”

  “Jackson didn’t try. He said he had a feeling that Nick might be a hard nut to crack.”

  Kian leaned back in his chair. “Well, it seems like no one really tried to thrall the kid except for you, and you admit to being not so good at it. The first course of action should be an actual test. I’ll ask Bhathian to attempt thralling Nick. It’s convenient since they live in the same house.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather have Jackson try first,” Ruth said in a small voice.

  “Be my guest. I don’t know how good Jackson is, but I know Bhathian is decent. If both of them fail, we will have to test him with someone better. Yamanu and Arwel are both very strong. Yamanu more than Arwel, but his appearance might raise Nick’s suspicions. Is he a suspicious guy by nature?”

  Ruth shook her head. “Not at all
. He’s open and talkative and has no filter, but he is also very smart.” She sighed. “What are we going to do if he can’t be thralled? Could we even offer him a chance at transition? Because if we do and he turns out not to be a Dormant, and we can’t erase the experience from his memory, we will have to imprison him, right?”

  “Right. But let’s not panic just yet. If everyone else fails, I’m willing to test him myself. If I can’t thrall him either, we will figure something out.”

  Bridget arched a brow. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet. I need to do some thinking.”

  She eyed him suspiciously and for a good reason. The way he’d first healed and then turned her mate was still a mystery Bridget was thankfully unable to solve.

  Keeping his expression schooled under her scrutiny, Kian thanked the Fates that neither Bridget nor Turner, both extremely smart people, had managed to figure out what he’d done.

  After a few seconds of a stare down, Bridget gave up and pushed to her feet, with Ruth quickly following suit. “Thank you for seeing us.”

  “Anytime.” He stood up and escorted them to the door. “You know what to do, Ruth, right?”

  “Yes, start with Jackson, and if that doesn’t work, try with someone stronger.”

  He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Exactly. And if all else fails, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  As Kian closed the door behind them, he let the smile slide off his face.

  Nick presented a similar problem to Turner, but with the added complication of having no knowledge of immortals.

  The guy must have been pretty oblivious if he hadn’t noticed anything peculiar about the people surrounding him. Either that or his roommates and Ruth were doing a fantastic job of hiding their otherness.

  But that was neither here nor there. If Nick proved to be an immune, they couldn’t tell him anything. Turner had been the only exception to the rule of keeping their existence secret from humans, and there had been plenty of good reasons for that.

  That reasoning was absent with Nick.

  He was a young guy who according to Ruth had no filter. Turner was an operative whose entire life revolved around keeping secrets.

  Bottom line, Nick would have to be induced without his knowledge, which was morally wrong but the lesser evil. If he were told the truth and then didn’t transition, his life would be ruined. They would have no choice but to keep him locked up, either in the keep or the village.

  The question was how to do it.

  Kian could drug Nick the same way he’d drugged Turner, but this time he wouldn’t have the benefit of the goddess’s miracle-producing blood.

  Without it, the only way to induce Nick was by a venom bite, and there was no way Kian could summon enough aggression out of thin air to bite an unconscious man, not even if he listened to vile lyrics of slam poetry. That trick had worked once. It wasn’t going to work again.

  He couldn't do it, but Brundar might.

  The Guardian prided himself on the ability to produce venom and elongate his fangs on demand.

  With Turner, the goddess’s blood had been necessary because of the cancer, and since no one was supposed to know about her blood’s miracle-producing properties, Kian had no choice but to do everything himself.

  Nick, on the other hand, was a healthy kid who any immortal male could induce, provided said immortal could do it to an unconscious Dormant.

  47

  Magnus

  As Magnus glanced at Anandur, he thought his partner didn’t seem battle ready at all. Instead of being all pumped up with pre-mission adrenaline, the guy sat slumped in the passenger seat with his eyelids drooping like he was about to fall asleep. “You look tired.”

  “It’s after three in the morning, and I didn’t sleep much the night before.”

  Magnus shook his head. “I’m not going to ask what has kept you awake.”

  “Much appreciated.” Anandur crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes.

  “You need to wake up, buddy. We are on at exactly four a.m.”

  “That means that I have half an hour of shuteye. Bug off.”

  If it were up to him, Magnus would have preferred the Doomers to know that he was coming, not only because taking them by surprise in their beds wasn’t the Guardian way, but because he would’ve loved a decent fight.

  But that’s how Kian and Onegus wanted it to play out.

  Assigning one Guardian per Doomer was overkill too, but the idea was to take them out simultaneously so no one could sound the alarm and bring reinforcements. In fact, the plan was to make it look as if the Doomers defected. Meaning that any signs of struggle had to be cleared up before the mission was considered completed.

  According to the ex-Doomer, Dalhu, that would put the top man of the entire drug-dealing operation in a very bad light. Maybe even cost him his head.

  But that wasn’t the main reason for it. The overriding consideration was to keep the raid quiet and not alert the humans living in the nearby apartment buildings that something was going on. It was also important not to leave a trail to follow for the human authorities, as well as the higher-ups in the Doomer organization.

  Except, with Yamanu—the ultimate thrall master—shrouding the area, no human would have heard or seen anything anyway. Luckily, the apartment building the Doomers used for their quarters was so close to the warehouse that Yamanu could cover both, which allowed for a simultaneous attack.

  Arwel, who was with the team going for the warehouse, could’ve done a decent shroud too, but he didn’t come close to Yamanu’s powers.

  At a quarter to four, Magnus nudged Anandur’s shoulder. “It’s time. We need to get into position.”

  “I’m up.” Anandur stretched his arms as much as the rental vehicle allowed. “Do you still have any coffee left in that thermos?”

  “Plenty, here you go.”

  “Much obliged.”

  Anandur gulped the thing as if it were water, then handed the empty container back. “I’m afraid there is not much left. I’ll buy you coffee after we’re done.”

  “You got it.”

  Taking out the Sig Sauer from its holster, Magnus checked the safety. Next, he screwed the silencer on and put it back.

  Lastly, he tapped his earpiece. “Testing.”

  A moment later Onegus’s voice came in. “Test complete. Carry on, Magnus.”

  Next to him, Anandur went through the same sequence.

  Magnus reached behind to the back seat and grabbed his Kevlar vest and the jacket to go over it.

  “We’re going to be cooked with all of that on.”

  Securing his vest, Anandur reached for his jacket. “I wish William would invent a cooling jacket.”

  Shaking his head, Magnus opened the door and closed it as quietly as he could. “When did we become so spoiled?” he whispered as Anandur did the same.

  “Yeah, this is nothing compared to the full body one. That thing is awesome, but it's cumbersome and hot as hell.”

  They didn’t bother locking the car. Even though they were parked two blocks away from the apartment building, sound carried in the quiet of the night. A small thing like a car door closing or the beep of the lock engaging could alert the Doomers.

  The good thing was that the Doomers’ commander hadn’t thought to post guards in their living quarters. The warehouse, on the other hand, was guarded at all times.

  The Doomers had no reason to expect a clan attack, but they had plenty of reasons to expect one from the gangs they’d disenfranchised, or other thugs who were after the drugs and the money.

  Anandur covered his nose. “I didn’t expect it to stink that bad.”

  “The stinkier, the better. Turner is a genius.”

  Magnus had to hand it to the operative. Turner’s idea to have a pretend crew work on the sewer near the apartment building and leave it open overnight was brilliant. The stench was going to mask the Guard
ians’ immortal scent, so the Doomers wouldn’t smell them coming.

  The warehouse, even though it was nearby, was too far for the stench to reach, but then the night watchmen guarding the drugs wouldn’t be sleeping like the Doomers in the apartment building. Those two would have to be overtaken by force.

  Magnus sighed. The guys assigned to the warehouse unit were going to have fun. He wished he were one of them. But unfortunately, he hadn’t been that lucky, or maybe the chief didn’t think he was ready for action, which was ridiculous. He was ready and then some. Besides, he knew how to unlock a safe, which he was certain the Doomers had to have in there.

  “Do you think they keep the money in the warehouse?” he asked.

  Anandur shrugged. “I don’t know. Onegus didn’t say anything about it. He only said to destroy the drugs.”

  “If there is any money, it should go toward taking care of the humans the Doomers turned into zombies, but some of it needs to go to the old couple whose bank account Grud cleaned out.”

  Anandur’s face twisted in a grimace. “If I were lucky, I would’ve been assigned to the apartment the piece of shit sleeps in. He would not have gotten away with stasis. I would’ve finished him off.”

  “That’s not allowed, mate.”

  “I can miscalculate, right? Putting an immortal into stasis requires precision, and I’m known for being deficient in that respect.”

  That was true. Where Brundar was like a sharp blade, Anandur was like a battering ram. But it was beside the point. Turner’s team had supplied the numbers, not who slept in which room.

  They’d taken photos with a long-range camera, so the Guardians could recognize the faces, but they hadn’t collected names. The only room they had differentiated from the others was the one belonging to the commander and his second. That was the one he and Anandur had been assigned to.

  For all Magnus knew, Grud could be in the warehouse. The last update Turner’s team had provided was yesterday morning. Later in the day, they had been dismissed to make room for the Guardians. What was about to go down was not for human consumption.