Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)

by Jamie Magee

  “I’ve been summoned. Only me, not Finley.”

  Those words, I’ve been summoned, had been a thorn in Talon’s ass far too many times in his past. It didn’t matter where he was on the globe, or what he was doing, if Reveca spoke those words they all had to pack up and travel to wherever the fuck her coven was.

  The consequences of not arriving were deadly, or so Reveca had always threatened.

  A witches gathering all but promised heads were about to roll. For centuries, it had been Zale’s name on the kill list. Talon could only assume that Jamison was pulling out every stop to free the witches that had been taken. What was discomforting was that Jamison hadn’t already figured out how to do some hocus pocus shit and shut down that part of the conflict.

  There was no way anyone, least of all Talon, was going to allow Adair to arrive at any summons without being heavily guarded, hence the reason for the fifty bikes. The escort was not only a silent message to the city at large but to the witches present that the Sons had little to no tolerance for any of their bullshit now.

  Talon lead the charge, Dust to his right, Talley to his left, Judge with Adair on the back of his bike was behind him. Knight, Steele, Echo, Rush, and a host of the strongest and finest of the Sons made up the perimeter.

  The scale of bikes was not only meant as a form of protection but also a deterrent. The skinwalkers were playing on the mortal stage, and like the Sons, whatever action they took had to be easily explained if they cared to hold any cover or control over the population.

  Attacking riders for no apparent reason would be hard to explain, especially since the riders were tossing candy and beads to children and bottles of water to the vagrants. Club hats and bandannas were also handed out. Apprehensive of the vibe in the air or not, the mortals flocked to what they assumed was one of the cities unpredictable gifts of entertainment.

  Talon felt it all, the vibration of the bike rattling his bones, testing his strength and balance. The wind that felt like one punch after another, the rush that once made him feel powerful and commanding now stole his air.

  He had no idea when he became used to the pain. When he went from fighting the ache, finding a cure, to managing the symptoms, enduring on until it hurt less, never expecting that he would not hurt at all again. It wasn’t the exhaustion that was tearing at him now. He’d lived through longer periods of life with less sleep. There was something else draining him.

  When his bike weaved just slightly, he felt it correct itself. He would angle his dark stare in Dust’s direction. The little saves that Dust put in place so discreetly, that made Talon wonder if he’d imagined them, were coming more often.

  It wouldn’t be long before his men would need a new permanent leader. If Talon had a clue what power to pray to he’d beg them to send Scorpio back in time. Talon was sure his demise would be easier if he knew the male was present, ready to defend and protect. And yes, Talon still gripped onto the hope Dust had given him that whatever Scorpio was doing, it was to help restore him, but a man could only hold on so long when even the act of breathing was taxing.

  When Talon arrived at Saige’s home, the first thing he noticed was Reveca’s bike was nowhere to be seen. He drew in a deep breath, sure he could still catch her scent if he really tried. He reached his senses clicks away and still found no sign of her. He didn’t put much stock in her absence. King could manifest her from across the globe at the last instant.

  The vast mansion lit with only low candlelight that gleamed through the hundreds of windows was eerie enough to make anyone’s skin crawl with apprehension. For Talon, it brought back too many harsh memories.

  Not long after he was changed, still fighting the transformation, he was brought to a place like this. At that time, he was not a fierce leader, but an abomination that Saige was using as evidence.

  Saige wanted Reveca’s leash to be cut, she wanted her punished for the pain Talon still fought from his lingering transition. The smells were the worst, followed by the taste of fire, doubting anything around him was real was what Saige claimed was the greatest sin. “For all we know she has destroyed the soul.” It was Talon’s first impression of covens and not surprisingly had left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

  He vowed then that no matter what the case may be, that for payment of his life, he would always protect Reveca from the hoard of souls that were just as wicked as the crimes they accused her of. Over the years when Reveca would flip her rage switch, when she was paranoid, lost in a fog, anything outside of her normal balanced persona, he’d blame her coven. A natural conclusion.

  They were the ones who gave her reason to look over her shoulder constantly. They were the ones who never let her forget a past she was dead set on outrunning. They were the ones that put every failure of hers on display for all to see and hid their misfortunes. They created the black heart Reveca had been known to have.

  Worse yet, they were the ones who silently charged him with protecting her, a job that would have been far easier if they would’ve stopped fucking with her.

  Even now, after everything, the same disdain for the coven ushered through Talon. These fucks had rocked his boat in all the wrong ways, era after era.

  Reveca had not been herself the last few years, but she had not been batty either. She was calm and fit Talon like a glove, a balance that saved him from dealing with Ambrosia and all the hell that came with her. A stability that stopped him from realizing how far he was from who he was supposed to be, from who he wanted to be.

  Holding Reveca reminded Talon he was a man of his vows, and gave him reason to believe the best things come to those who wait. To the ones who have no limits when it comes to sacrificing for the ones they love.

  But apparently, that was too boring for the others. For the hell of it, they dug up King and nothing had been right since. All their meddling bullshit and worship of an ancient prophecy was going to cost lives, end lineages—his would be the first. At least when he left this existence he would know it was not him who had forsaken his vows, but others.

  Let her live with it, Talon’s thoughts grumbled as the empty promises he had been staring down recently tried to rise and take over his thoughts. It was this place, this vibe that was giving him no choice but to recall how far he’d come and how he had nothing to show for it. He should, right now at this moment, he should be happy, free. Not the way he was.

  Fuck ‘em, Talon thought as he pushed dark memories down. He wasn’t going to die looking back.

  Talon took his time getting off his bike as he appraised the tension in the air. Not a single silent order came from him as he moved forward, but he felt Talley on one shoulder, Dust at the other and his daughter closely protected by Judge just behind him. The others stood guard outside the mansion, a weapon Talon could summon at any moment.

  At the top of the grand stone stairs that lead in the main entrance that was never used unless a display of power was in play, the tall, thick doors opened. If Talon was not focusing on making himself seem far stronger than he was he would’ve taken the time to curse the witchy show.

  In the grand entryway, he scuffed his boots as loudly as he could. The noise wasn’t to attract the witches— they were damn sure aware he was there— it was his way of showing disrespect for this bullshit. Jamison knew exactly what the Sons were going through and still he gave them no reason but to leave their sacred ground for whatever this was.

  “I think I have to go alone,” Adair said from behind him.

  Talon glanced over his shoulder at his daughter not surprised in the least to see Judge’s glare focused on her.

  “How many of these have you been to, sunshine?” Talon asked even though he already knew the answer.

  Adair barely swayed her head to state the big fat zero on her resume. Not only had she not been to a single one, no one told her what to expect. Finley had never been to one before her ‘death’ and wasn’t invited to this one.

  The reasons for the lack of invitation boiled dow
n to the fact that she had yet to declare to Jamison or any other coven leader that not only was she walking this realm again, but also still had the power of magic inside of her.

  Adair had read her fair share about these gatherings and none of it was cozy reading. Many covens meet often to celebrate sacred days, or in defense when a member is threatened. But they did not meet on this magnitude. Invitations were not delivered by crows for any normal meeting, and magic was surely not suspended for kicks and giggles.

  Right then, Adair would be lucky to start a fire with a match much less her powers. Jamison’s supremacy had suspended everyone’s power in the coven until such time they arrived to solve whatever dilemma the coven was facing. If it weren’t for the lack of magic, Adair would’ve kept to her own studies at the Boneyard. The ghost of Evanthe, or whatever she was, had been tossing books left and right at Adair, none of them gave her the magic spell she needed to get her friends back, much less taught her how to kill skinwalkers with a thought.

  “How you arrive is just as important as your arrival,” Talon said. “Never charge in, walk like time is in your pocket.”

  Adair eyed the doors at the other end of the massive entryway. She could feel the power brimming behind them, calling out to her. Standing there holding an empty cup was making her anxious. She was sure she could function if she just had a slice of her power back. The naked feeling she was sporting right then was making her seem as off balanced as her father. And right then, no one could afford that nonsense.

  Like the room heard her thoughts, knew she was willing to crawl into it despite the glares of Judge and her father, one door opened. Judge’s grip on her waist dug into place. She was powerless to move and knowing so only pissed her off more.

  The others ignored the silent command for Adair to come forward. Dust pulled Talon to the side and was speaking to him in low tones. At least Adair thought that was why they had separated themselves from the others. She hated how pale Talon looked, and the desperate urge to stop the unpredictable force that was stinging her skin.

  Moments later the door slammed closed, and true despair hit Adair. Finley was a wreck from the moment Adair was summoned. Her very last warning as Adair left was the same as her first, “No matter what you do, show no disrespect.”

  If there was one thing Adair’s generation had failed to teach her was how to state her mindset with respect. She could pull bitch mode all day, but had yet to master Reveca’s cool grace in the face of confrontation.

  The seconds that moved by after the door slammed might as well have been a lifetime. Suddenly, in the darkness a figure emerged, she barely saw it before Judge pushed her behind his back.

  “Jamison,” Talon said in an exhausted tone.

  Even with the cordial acknowledgment Judge was determined to keep Adair behind him. Gripping her dignity Adair moved to his side and watched Jamison move closer.

  “Adair is required at this meeting,” Jamison said steadily.

  “But not Finley,” Talley thrashed out. “You want Adair in there, then she will have an advocate.”

  “I will be her advocate,” Jamison said, clearly unbothered by the threatening stare each of the Sons were giving him.

  “Pick another day for this fight,” Talon said as he leaned against the wall. He hoped the others saw it as his relaxed nature and not as him desperately trying to stay standing. “It’s bad enough that I’ll have to kill a lawman or two on my way home, then fight whatever outrage comes from it.”

  “We have secured your path, no one will be able to take action,” Jamison said.

  “Awesome. All is well then? So I’m to assume that Gwinn and Bastion are going to walk out of those doors next?” Talon asked. “We can all go back to our everyday bullshit—wait, what were we doing, boys? That’s right, hunting Akan.”

  “Gwinn and Bastion are on sacred ground,” Jamison said.

  “In the ninth ward? You don’t get out often do you?” Talley badgered.

  Jamison was hardly amused. “Akan has access to dark magic. He used this power to ensure that if either of the witches were returned to the Boneyard fire would overtake them. He didn’t place them where they are, but I assure you, it’s best they remain there for now.”

  His chilling words silenced the soft comments the Sons were saying under their breath.

  “They can never return?” Talon asked from his still lax position.

  Jamison eyed him for a long moment judging his strength and a host of other things Talon didn’t care for him to be peeking at. Then he shifted his eyes to Dust. Nothing was glorious in their cold stares.

  “Once the creator of the spell is destroyed, the spell will be broken. If they choose to return to the Boneyard then, a passage will show its way.”

  “So, what is this?” Judge said with a nod of his chin. “You strip all the witches of their power then call them for a chat. Is this your version of an interrogation? Is this going to undo whatever Akan did?”

  “The magic did not come from our coven but from old worlds. Banished worlds.” His stare met Dust’s once more, and then after a moment of decision moved to Talons. Jamison spoke slow and steady, with great reverence, like he was speaking to anyone but Talon. “Akan is the creator of this magic, and he obtained it by taking the lives of those he was born to protect.”

  Talon furrowed his brow trying to catch why Jamison was speaking the way he was. With his current state of mind, most of the details of his past were a bit scattered. No matter what nook or cranny he searched in his mind, he was still coming up empty.

  “Killing Akan is already on my to-do list,” Talon said finally.

  “I wish you the best with your charge.”

  Talon swayed his head as a pissed smile emerged. “We’d be a lot better off without the distractions. You said the witches could not come to the Boneyard. Fine, we have plenty of other real estate. I want them and the boys out of the jail you have them in.”

  “They didn’t arrive where I sent them. A greater power took them to sacred ground. It was wise of them to do so; it wasn’t until it happened that I understood why. The only way to save them from every twist in the magic used to hold them is to take them off the board. That way we can’t use them, and they can’t use them.”

  “Why them?” Talley asked as he counted his lucky stars Finley was excluded from whatever all this bullshit was.

  “I can only assume,” Jamison said in a tone that clearly stated he could do more than assume but refused to do so openly. “Their magic is uniquely crafted, some of the most original aspects this coven has seen since we came to this dimension.”

  “They wanted Adair, too,” Judge reminded the room. “If you think you’re sucking her into that room and putting her on a do not touch shelf like the others I’ve got news for ya.”

  Jamison swayed his head. “I protected her.”

  “But not the others,” Judge pushed as he strained to see his answers in the ancient witch’s mind. Jamison was letting him in easy enough.

  “No warning came. All I can tell you is this plan was in place before you ever obtained or lost Akan.”

  Judge nodded once to the others as he saw Jamison come to these conclusions.

  “Is Akan the reason Gwinn was taken by Blackwater before?” Talon asked.

  “I don’t think they understood exactly what they had, not the ones who took her. I don’t think they do now.”

  “And what do they have?” Talon pushed.

  “Witches whose blood has the power to lead them into various levels of supremacy, divisions of the supernatural world.”

  Talon sneered. “You know Voyagers and Fire run through Adair, and still you called this meeting? I’m sure she was the highest hit on their list.”

  Grumbles that sounded more like growls came from every Son except Dust.

  “I’ve told you once Adair has been protected. Any ill will toward her will result in the death of whoever attempts to harm her.”

  “You could have told m
e as much on the phone,” Talon snapped.

  “And you could’ve asked by phone,” Jamison countered. “This meeting has nothing to do with the affairs spoken of. We will aid you in hunting Akan and anyone who works for him.” He glanced to each of the Sons. “I give you my word that Gwinn and Bastion are safe, as well as Shade and Thrash. They will remain as such as long as I lead this coven.”

  His vow was doing nothing for Talon, he’d said the same thing a million times in the past. Each time that he had, he never once imagined he’d feel the way he did just then. Like there truly was an end. Talon tilted his head slightly. “Kings fall every day.”

  Jamison narrowed his eyes on Talon’s once more, and again Talon would swear he was looking at anyone but him as he did.

  “They find their second wind too.”

  Talon glared back at the coven leader. “We’ll be leaving now.”

  “Travel safely. I will return Adair myself.”

  “The hell you will,” Judge snapped. “She’s with us.”

  “On the contrary, at the moment she represents a powerful bloodline and her vote is needed.”

  “Whatever vote of hers you need you’ll take with all of us.”

  “Not possible,” Jamison said as tension eased into his calm words.

  “What do you want with her that none of us can hear?” Judge said holding Adair tighter when he felt a tremble move through her body. By the time he glanced down at her and followed her stare, Reveca spoke from the shadows above.

  “The vote is for my execution,” she said easily as she began to descend the grand staircase.

  The wrathful stares that landed on Jamison were pure instinct. Endless years of life following a powerful couple were not easily turned off. Furthermore, what problems they had on the inside were just that, nobody’s business but theirs.

  Talon swayed where he was leaning, but Dust balanced him by holding the back of his arm.