Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)

by Jamie Magee

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped.

  “And how is that?”

  Like you’re disappointed. “Like I’m a mad women. Do you have no limits? A true death wish? Is it poetic for us to find each other only to go down in flames soon after? What kind of fucking love story is that?”

  He nearly grinned, but it never happened. Laying out step-by-step how delicately everyone was connected, how one loss would result in another, then another, perhaps not immediately, but in time, was not something King and Reveca had spoken of. She knew though. Anyone worth their magic or the lore that had raised them could surmise this conclusion.

  “Dying with you will not make it easier,” Reveca said still clenching anger even though her thoughts had caused bile to rise in the back of her throat. One second. One second of seeing him in pain, or worse, lost again, was too much for her to handle. She had to imagine it would be the same for him. Sharing the same death date was not a fairy tale she cared to live out. Shit like that marks a soul. Considering she had no fucking idea where the Creator would send her, she was not campaigning for another sorrow to lug around.

  “What is it with the extremes?” King asked as he kept his relaxed lean into his chair as his fingertips carefully traced his bottom lip.

  “Exactly my point, Scorpio making this extreme move proves I’m not crazy.” Even though I would have done the same to my enemy. We taught him too well!

  “Not his, yours.”

  “Mine?” she said slamming books that deserved to be treated like the highest treasure on the table. “Did I just steal an army? Did I shed centuries of loyalties and rip a family apart all to settled an old vendetta?”

  The tilt of his head said everything she didn’t want it to. She many not have stolen King’s army, but she acquired it by being his. By doing so, she did shake loyalties and ripped her family to shreds.

  That was one way of looking at it, the way Talon or any Sons personal judgment would have laid it out. But to her, it read more beautifully. After having her lover, soul of her soul, ripped unjustly away eras ago was returned to her, Talon gave her no choice but to go to him. It was his fault along with all the other bullshit springing up that divided her family.

  It was all about perspective.

  Reveca pointed at King as if he were the guilty party; to her, he was— if he had just listened to her days ago. “I told you Talon was up to something.”

  She had been in and out for weeks, more out than in, helping her coven. Dagen had been her sidekick and King lingered at the Boneyard. They never decided who would go where or why, they just drifted in different directions. It was a sweet deal for her because she was positive with King present he would pick up and stop any bullshit. When she came back, she gave King mind-bending rundowns of who she had met and what she had seen.

  What did he do? He recounted Talon’s day that was filled with Little Dove and him turning the lounge into a magic tent kingdom or having tea parties in Church. Only the coolest grandfathers had the looks and body of a twenty-five-year-old man and were set to make up for all the time he lost with his daughter.

  The thing was—Talon did not chill. He did not know how to chill. If he ever seemed like he was taking in the sunshine, you could damn sure count on the fact that he had the most elaborate mind-fucked battle stirring in the background. She had seen it so many times she could call it. By now, all the Sons should know the term ‘calm before the storm’ was coined by this ancient warrior. But sometimes it’s easier to just take in the sun while you have it than tense for a storm that will come on its own time.

  “Talon will do anything to punish me for being with you. Stealing our family, even if it means he co-rules with another, is an easy price to pay for what he wants. I’d wager this takeover was set in a playbook for ages, since the last time I left him.”

  “Will he do anything to punish you, or anything to protect his men?”

  “There you go again with all your holier than thou.”

  Yes. Talon would do anything to protect his men. Including fucking Tisk. Gahhhhh! No matter how cool headed she was when it all went down, she would never be over it. It was the principle of the matter, the betrayal, broken trust. After everything—everything—they’d been through, and still, the Sons meant more to him. She squinted her eyes closed knowing deep down it was the same to her, but at least she was politically correct about playing this game. Or had been.

  “You broke their trust, not him,” King said simply.

  “He gave me no choice! Scorpio’s whore promised my death, she will deliver. They chose to let him.”

  “You didn’t say this to them.”

  “They would not believe me. Scorpio has manipulated them for years. I can never reach them the way he does.”

  “The way an empath does? The way someone who feels their emotions and can wager their thoughts on any matter?”

  “You sound like Jamison.” She focused on her book. “All either of you wants is for me to respect my executioner. I’ve come too far to lie down now. I can’t and won’t let this happen. Scorpio’s Chapter can have this Boneyard, Talon can turn it all over for all I fucking care, but I will kill Scorpio before he kills me.”

  King leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you think Scorpio has chosen now?”

  Reveca swayed her head, refusing to be reasoned with. “Ambrosia has left him be for now, he’s no weaker than before.”

  “That you know of.”

  She lifted her glare to look at him. “I have done the unthinkable to save Talon. My actions were out of loyalty to him and to what we created, our family. It’s barely been a fortnight, and they’ve all turned on me. I do not care for you to sit there and defend their actions.”

  “I’m not defending anyone. I’m telling you as a leader you can not act like this.”

  “Fuck you and leadership.”

  King stood; his stoic expression sent a chill down her spine. “You want to be taken from here, hidden, protected?”

  “Hell, no. I will not flee!”

  “Then stop giving them every reason to believe they can no longer trust you.”

  “What is it to you?” she snapped. “This is my family. The life created in your absence.”

  In a blink of her eye, he manifested at her back. Even though only his hands rested innocently on her hips, she felt an erotic, hot, panty-melting rush glide down her entire being. Just behind her ear, he whispered, “Absent I never was, Love. We have creations here, seedlings to an unpredictable, unseen army that will crumble all that has stood against us.” His hands bit into her hips as an even more powerful wave moved through her body, stubbornly she bit her lip and held back every reaction she could, the tight breath and sense of her arousal were the traitors she could never stop easily. “I will not let you or anyone hurt them. The children, our tomorrow, will always come before any self-preservation I possess.”

  King left before she could string together any form of reasonable thought. Knowing that he had, she became boneless as she laid her body on the table on top of all the maps and books. Staring up into an endless ceiling, she had never felt lower, or more alone.

  At last, she muttered a thought. Fine, King. I’ll steal your children away...

  Four

  Dust lingered in his seat as the motion for Mayhem was passed, and then the plans moving forward were discussed. He wasn’t entirely listening to all Talon had said. The pair of them had hashed this all out the night before in private. By no means would anyone ever be foolish enough to blindside Talon.

  However, Dust was brilliant enough to wait until Talon was in one of his weakest moments. Dust would wager Talon had slept all of three hours sleep in as many weeks, and he had witnessed each of them. Immortals didn’t need much, but when weak and lacking a way to get their mojo in play, they needed all they could get.

  There was still a devil waiting on Talon in his dreams. It was evident no matter what dea
l Ambrosia made or with who, she’d break it to have him. She was drawing on Talon, pulling him in bit by bit.

  Like any fool who felt the end calling their name, Talon did what he should’ve done all the while, soaked in the benefits of all he had fought for over his long life. Security, peace, no matter how fleeting it might be, was precious. In the midst of a war, he could hear the laughter of a child, one of his own blood, running through his warriors, causing each of them to hasten their swear words and lift their weapons higher.

  When Dust found Talon trembling on his cabin floor the night before, soaked in sweat and measuring his breaths, he simply sat at Talon’s side. Dust didn’t demand Talon find the first fuck he could no matter the cost, Dust didn’t dig through ancient texts looking for solutions that would cost dearly.

  Dust simply shared the misery. Breath by breath he drew the pain away, at least the pain in his emotions. Talon had rolled his head side to side, then spoke. “You’re like him, you know that, right.”

  The ‘him’ Talon was speaking of was Scorpio. In what way Talon was referring was anyone’s guess.

  “I was always told those lands should not be crossed,” Talon said as an ironic laugh settled in the back of his throat. “Mona...home of the spirits, gods, and the Druids.” Talon flicked his gaze up to Dust. “And what do I do? Find my strongest warriors there...a mistake my witch wished to undo from the second she discovered she had made it.”

  Talon bit his lip as his dark stare cast deep into his long life. “I was told I was born there...never knew for sure.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Considering the haunts in my head and the course of my life, I suppose it’s not the most unheard of idea.”

  Dust had always been told to be very careful with Talon when he went down this road, one he only took with Scorpio and Dust, at times Vike. So, for a while he said nothing, then. “Not all things that are constantly present and unexplainable are bad.”

  Talon’s brow furrowed as his lip twitched, daring to grin. “If you feel that way son, then I have an ex I want to introduce you to. If the pair of you get on, then maybe I’ll have a shot at finishing this life up with some dignity.”

  Dust chuckled. “I don’t know that I can handle her. Not yet.”

  Talon rolled his head in Dust’s direction and looked up, there was a question there. Can you help me? Dust offered a careful nod.

  “How long?” Talon asked.

  How long did he have? How long before Scorpio found whatever solution he was after? Either question deserved an answer, and Dust had none to give. Seeing he didn’t, Talon moved his head back and began to stare at the abyss of the past. “Reveca will not accept any way to save me but her own.”

  “As predicted,” Dust said at length.

  “I have every reason to trust her and every reason not to,” Talon went on. “My judgment is overshadowed by circumstance.”

  “We’re here to take the burden.”

  Talon closed his eyes, ease settled over him. “I’m surprised it’s taken Scorpio this long.”

  Dust hung his head agreeing on more levels than he had leave to speak of.

  “She’ll do the work for you, the boys will come your way if you roll the way you always have,” Talon said before he felt himself begin to drift. “Watch out for me, will ya? Pull me back if you feel her jacking with me.”

  Dust did watch, for three hours he let Talon find peace and when he felt drawn of his emotions moving into defense, Dust woke the stoic warrior and the pair of them hashed out how the day would go forward.

  So far everything, including Reveca’s outbreak, had played out perfectly. Most of the unrest had met its peak, and now the shock was wearing off.

  “Not a single ride leaves or takes action on anyone without verification from Dust. Intel will have to be verified three times over. It has to look like business as usual to all the eyes that are on us,” Talon said as a final order.

  All the riders present had personal orders already, and it was anything from searching the grounds they were on for traitors among them to advanced tracking via Knight’s tech skills. Others were somewhere in the middle, riding out to check old haunts Akan liked to surface when he needed to feel safe, or to keep watch on any retaliation plans the remaining Devil’s Den may have.

  Dust stood and shook hands with each rider as they left, his cool gaze was met with every array of emotion. Some showed trust he knew he didn’t deserve, others, like him, could sense the beginning of the end.

  Knowing Thrash wanted his time with Talon, Dust nodded for Vike to guard the door then went on his way. He’d spent most of his time with the others in his crew, expanding the shop, doubling the bays it already had. It was the cover the mortal world needed to see, the reason so many unexplained bikers were on the property. Dust had set up shop, in more ways than one, in the first bay that was completed. Where there once was a black 1980 C3 Corvette, the frame of a bike was sitting, most of its parts were in boxes on the floor he hadn’t bothered to open.

  The back table, when flipped, was where the real work came into play. There he had maps and notes written in code even the most skilled linguistic could not break easily. It was here he had his notes from Scorpio stored, a to-do list he was slowly checking off, along with the maps and marks of everyone he had distracted with his power over take.

  Even though he felt Judge lingering in the doorway, he still waved his hand over the paper making the marks appear. It was his way of saying he had nothing to hide, and allowed him to check on what had occurred when he was stuck in church doing what he called mortal dirty work. It was all politics, fucking bullshit. In all the time man had walked the earth, they had never figured out that was where the true devil hid. Power was more seductive than any long legged, willing woman with all the right curves begging to be handled.

  “Where is he,” Judge rasped after long moments. He had given up on seeing the answer he was after.

  “Looking to couple a quarrel or two,” Dust asked keeping his eye steady on the players he had on the field. Judge and Scorpio had gone head to head, again, recently, over what was best for Adair. By default, this meant Judge could easily have a beef with Dust—Scorpio’s closest ally. What Dust just pulled in Church would only add to the grudge if Judge decided to lean toward his darker side. Most times, in seasons of war, Judge kept his anger on the enemy and not on the men fighting at his side. In this climate, there was no telling which way any Son would lean.

  “What’s done is done.” At this point, Judge had little doubt about where Adair Vallet intended to be for the rest of her life—with the asshole he was. Scorpio never had any real intent with Adair, the male just knew how to push Judge in the right direction.

  Dust smirked, relishing in the fact that his fearless leader had yet to be wrong about any of the reactions of the Sons. There wasn’t one he hadn’t sized up. “It’s all in the code, follow their way of life and you’ll learn the language, study their emotions, and you can call the reaction without even tryin’.”

  For years, Dust and Scorpio had spoken of this day. Of course, they didn’t know exactly how it would manifest, but it was no far reach to assume that sooner rather than later the universe would shift and with it would come endings and new beginnings, and in the most surprising way.

  Years back, when Dust felt like he was staring at a stranger he knew—the Adair witchling on the property— Scorpio made damn sure Dust was never at the Boneyard and certainly not for long if he had to be. “Until you know what’s what, leave that be, not a single touch,” Scorpio had warned. Whatever bad mojo Scorpio was afraid Dust would trip with so much as a handshake, Dust was sure he was immune to. Dust knew of the Throngs, an unspoken secret between him and Scorpio. He also knew if Scorpio was acting all salty over one chick, he thought she hailed from one. Hell, Scorpio could’ve thought the chick was meant for Dust and one awakening touch landing on the girl would hail the dark gods. She wasn’t. Dust recognized her magic, knew she was different, but beyond this
his interest never flared much more than it did over any other chick at the Boneyard.

  “How is it different for you?” Dust asked sensing a cock block and not sage advice.

  Sorrow struck Scorpio’s eyes as it did every time Dust twisted the throttle and drove them into territory Scorpio refused to speak of. “I’ve already found mine.”

  “Your what?” Dust jabbed.

  Scorpio searched Dust’s amber eyes for a minute, then answered. “A love that makes the heavens cry and the hells roar, someone to live for, die for.”

  Dust swallowed harshly, and then dropped his head and walked away. There were some things Dust wasn’t ready to wrap his head around, least of all the demons he saw in Scorpio’s stare when he dropped the biker front and the haunted man Scorpio appeared. Dust could see Scorpio drawing on past wars to prepare for an end he didn’t want, but needed.

  Later that night, when everyone saw Scorpio and Adair leave the bar together, and Dust sensed they were gearing up to have more than a heart to heart; Dust went to shut it down. Their chapter didn’t need the drama it would stir up with Judge. Before Dust could beat on the cabin door, Scorpio had put out the fire between him and Adair. Dust listened as he told her some jacked excuse about how they couldn’t hit it because Judge had a claim on her. He was telling the truth, but Dust knew Scorpio back down for another reason, he was desperately in love with Toril. A ghost that lived in Scorpio’s haunted stare.

  Before the night was over Scorpio and Dust had a few words about it all. Short and sweet the way they kept everything. “When you live it, you become it,” Scorpio said as regret drowned his expression. “Either way, that girl has all the wrong kind of warnings on her.” He gave Dust a hard stare. “Are you curious, or pulled? Have you seen her before, you know, when you are with others?”

  Scorpio was trying to figure out if Adair had been playing dirty in Dust’s mind, or the other way around as it were. The answer was no. There was something oddly familiar about her, but Dust hadn’t had a single vision or dream he could recall. “She’s a child. Mortal.”