Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)

by Jamie Magee

  “The gods kept them alive so they would have a weapon,” Scorpio surmised.

  Toril tilted her head. It was not her place to speak for the gods, but she could see how easily this ploy could be theirs. It was something she’d worry about another day. Right now she had to worry about ensuring there would be other days...

  Sorrow was so rich in her emotions that it was ripping Scorpio in two, so much so that tensing his body, balling his fists was the only way to hold himself back from pulling her into his lap.

  “The gods left it to where more than the last standing in a Throng would hunt the likes of us. It was once believed anyone who slayed us would gain our power.”

  She carefully chewed through her next bite before she went on. “The massacres destroyed entire realms, they offered up a vast feeding ground for the dark gods who devoured the most wicked of emotions. Many assumed the end would come at any moment, and for some it arrived. In time, it was declared we were no more, that the last of us had fallen from all realms.”

  The faintest of smiles touched the corner of her lips. “For one generation, life settled, and then we arrived.”

  “The new firsts,” Scorpio said in disbelief. He was almost sure his parents were part of a great Throng, if he stretched his mind he could remember a conversation highlighting what was at the time elements of everyday life.

  With this knowledge, his burden hadn’t changed, it had only shifted. Instead of being the first ever who could not fail, they were second; and the last chance to save their kind, and others.

  “For the last standing Throng members to stay hidden they’d have to take roles like Ambrosia has. It is the only way to hide their power—make it seem as if it is expected.” Toril narrowed her eyes on her visions. “She’s been growing weaker for awhile. Weak enough to make hasty barters. Even without finding Talon long ago, her day of judgment had already called her name.”

  “How many? Toril, tell me how many now,” Scorpio demanded. He knew that among every other threat out there he could not leave this one unchecked, not when they were so close with letting the universe at large know that Throngs were not long gone but about to steal the show.

  Toril stared into him. “From your life and others I only see two, they are clear because of their actions. I can not say how many there are.”

  “Which two?”

  “Ambrosia, of course,” she said. Scorpio nodded once, he had gathered as much. Toril struggled with the next name. “You know,” she said finally.

  “Akan...” Scorpio said now understanding what had always stood out about that asshat. Why he, more so than the other shifters, could always track him.

  A curse whispered across Scorpio’s lips before his questioning stare searched hers. “Are they in the same Throng?”

  “No, they are the last of the ones they bore from.”

  There went the idea of playing them against each other, pausing their current battles. Scorpio was sure both were seedy and paranoid enough to fight each other. It would buy precious time. Time Scorpio knew they needed now more than ever.

  “How do we end them? They are aware of us. I’m sure of it.” His mind was wheeling through the past, the one where he was thick in his role as a Son. A mistake he should’ve never made, but then again...perhaps his denial of the most vital part of his soul was the one thing that had kept him hidden.

  “Akan has always been aware,” Toril said under her breath. Hiding the words further by taking another bite.

  “Did you not see Ambrosia in my thoughts?” Scorpio had only had one meeting with the female, but it was one of the strangest times in his life. There was something oddly familiar about her, a draw that felt like the dirtiest of sins. In her random comments, she had all but claimed it was due to the fire within him, that he was another soul Reveca had stolen.

  Scorpio knew the stolen part was true, but not for the reasons the female claimed. In the middle of the strife he was trying to handle for the Sons, he assumed that Reveca had simply pulled from the fire realms essence.

  “I did,” Toril said with a cold clip to her words. “The female is lost in her delusions. She knows she is drawn to Talon and that she cannot satisfy her craving no matter how hard she tries, but what she doesn’t understand is why.” Toril moved her stare back to the flames. “The power in us is achieved and grown by life experience, by now she has felt the exhaustion of the powers she devoured when she slayed her own. No matter how much life she has lived, she can not live the lives of several at once, she can not grasp the perspective and circumstance that cradles the gift when she only sees one.”

  Scorpio cursed again. “You understand, even if she doesn’t know what she is doing, she’s drawing Talon to her. She’s killing him.”

  Toril gave him a shallow nod. “I fear she knows now. Once she pulls him in her soul will remember, she’ll devour his essence out of the glory of survival.”

  “She’ll devour us,” Scorpio responded wishing he had snapped the females neck when he had the chance.

  “Her power will greatly increase, she’ll find the same starvation she felt in the past and hunt each of us.”

  “I’ll be fucking damned.” This entire mission of his had begun with his own instinct, he’d told himself it was about saving Talon, not about him looking for any excuse to wake Toril and finally rock and roll with the wave of fate. But now he was sure it wasn’t either of those things, and it was all of them.

  “It works both ways.”

  He narrowed his stare on her.

  Toril’s smile was girlish, full of youth that had long ago left her soul. It was a Christmas morning smile, a first kiss smile. It was one he wanted to never leave her lips. He missed it even though it was still present.

  “No matter the amount of power she has used or forgotten that she stole from her Throng, it will all be restored and given to the one who slays her.

  Scorpio had hungered to feel the blood of another on his hands, but never this much. The haunting memory of the phantom he had fought on the ship long ago never went too far from his living nightmares. To defeat a power as dark and twisted as it was, Scorpio knew he’d need all the power he could get.

  “I will slay her,” Toril said easily lying back on the soft rugs that surrounded the fire pit. Her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. “Then I will have the power to end the gray witch...with her power in hand, Akan will fall...with his power...we’ll make the gods tremble with our fury.

  The plan was downright golden as far as Scorpio was concerned, but full of holes and far too much room for fuck ups that could change their game from the offense to the defense in a heartbeat.

  How in the hell did Toril think she would defeat Ambrosia when the strength to digest a meal was taxing on her? When Ambrosia was already winning simply by draining Talon?

  He needed to figure out who and where the rest of their Throng was, along with what the hell was in the box Dust had sent his way.

  For now, the sound of the fire, her breaths and the stillness of the world would comfort them both. Soon enough the rush of the battle would stake its claim between the pair of them like it always had.

  ***

  In the center of her newfound kingdom, Reveca was on her knees. She doubted King ever intended the naturally made platform to be a canvas for the greatest of magic that had ever been practiced, or that many of his men had watched a witch hard at work.

  At least that was why she assumed they were all staring at her like she was insane. They weren’t checking out her ass, or boobs, she’d made sure both were tucked in, besides she was pretty sure none of them were suicidal.

  One of her father’s ancient books was at her side; another that she had long ago stolen from Zale was there too. She was making pretty damn good progress with her master plan before Jamison decided to be an asshole and place her in virtual handcuffs.

  Her arriving at Saige’s mansion, accepting the challenge at hand had given her some of her power back, but not nearly enough. One witch
could only block a hoard of ancient ones for so long. Well, she could hold them off for eons if she wasn’t currently focused on pulling off the most beautiful simple solution of all time.

  She supposed that was the point. Her coven knew she had finally awoken to a brilliant plan and no longer had to play along with their never-ending doomsday predictions. They knew they no longer could control her with fear, and because they lost their grip they had no choice but to turn her into a criminal to save face.

  Just thinking about the audacity had her swaying her head in silent fury. They’d all pay; the black sheep was about to rise to the greatness that had been denied her for far too long.

  All at once she felt a surge of power fill the room. A tingle began at the tips of her bare toes, and then slowly edged up her lengthy, tan legs, long before the wave reached her ass she was wet with anticipation and cared little that thousands of others were in the same room watching the show. King simply had that effect on her. He could suck her into his universe and cause the rest of creation to slip away into a forgotten reality.

  Now more than ever she was in his debt, thanks to his arrival, him pulling her away from the mortal world that she had let consume her long empty days, she now had clear eyes. She remembered how she was meant to live, fearlessly, for she was fearlessly made.

  Her lips parted, ready to let the first of many short pleading pants loose, but in the end, it was a scream that escaped instead.

  One second, she was poised in the perfect position to be manhandled in all the right ways and the very next she was on the tips of her toes grasped by nothing as she was forced to stare into the cold blue stare of King.

  “There you are,” she said with a tight smile. “Welcome home. Dinner will be ready as soon as I’m through conquering the universe. Instead of waiting, why don’t you hurry on off to wherever you’ve been hiding?”

  One cold glance of King’s around the vast city of caves and dwellings sparked a massive exit. Every single being, even the ones not paying any attention to the witch on center stage vacated at once.

  Reveca arched a brow, sure the male before her was not foolish enough to waste a solid arousal, and had just hung a big fat ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. She loved it when he took her hard, when he took her soft, every and any way he took her. And to be honest, she needed the break not to mention the surge of vim the male would bask her in.

  “Missed me, did you?” she asked with hooded eyes.

  “Have you lost your fucking mind,” he said so coldly that any burning fires of desire in her belly had promptly turned to ice.

  Her defense, especially lately, was never far and easy enough for her put in place like the shield she needed it to be. “Exactly what action should I be defending? Make it quick, I have work to do.”

  As sarcastic as her question might’ve been, it had merit. She expected him to be at her side constantly after her Sons all but exiled her. With each moment he delayed, she imagined him slowly destroying each of them, and as angry as she was, she cared little as to who it was. In time, if she managed to get over their betrayal, she could find them wherever death held them.

  In the amount of time King was gone he could have killed half the globe. She was too stubborn to outwardly look for him much less call him, but that didn’t stop her from glancing around as she moved from one place to another as she started to construct her plan.

  The last time she saw him, he was standing before Dagen. She thought it was a conversation like any other she had interrupted them from having, but then Dagen began to slip to the floor, and pure panic hit King’s expression.

  By the time Reveca had gotten over her shock and scouted her senses in every direction to make sure the Boneyard wasn’t under attack, King had Dagen on his feet once more.

  Dagen was damp and clammy, far from the smiling, coolheaded, no matter what hell is currently transpiring, male she had always known him to be.

  “Is this a curse? It is, isn’t it? Fuck I told you! Scorpio is evil, nothing like you assume he his.”

  King passed her a blank glare then vanished with Dagen. Since then, Reveca hadn’t seen him. She’d been far too busy flying solo and kicking ass at it. Not only had she found a one-two punch end to all her issues, she had found freedom for the chastity her coven had always gripped her with.

  Going forward, there would be no fear of Crass, that fuck could tell whomever he wanted that King existed, hell, she’d buy him the billboard herself. And Revelin? Not an issue, they’d be downright chummy once she gave the asshat the inside info on the kill he missed. Of course, in time she would have to kill him because there was just no forgetting what he put her and King through, but it could wait until the turbulence of the coming change had settled.

  She’d strike when Revelin least expected it just because she could. Scorpio, by default along with his whore, would be nothing more than an aftertaste of a once worthy, but in the end, weak opponent. And the Sons, the ones she was so worried about, the souls whose happiness she put before her own? Well, cuddle time was over. They’d bow to the man she had in her bed, the one she told them to.

  The conclusion to her hells had never been more simple or complicated. Simple because it only resulted in one tiny sacrifice, complicated because people, especially witches, like to sit around and argue about cause and effect.

  Reveca was sick and tired of arguing about an effect that could never arrive because everyone was too big of a chicken to put a cause to good use. She was sick of worrying about balance and karma. She’d be damned if she struck out looking; every swing gave her a fifty-fifty shot.

  “I will be shredded by my Creator before I allow you to even think of this madness that has consumed you,” King said so fiercely that Reveca had little choice but to believe him.

  Well, damn.

  Chapter Three

  Not a single male in Reveca’s life shied away from the fear of death. In theory, that was exactly why they were in her life in the first place. However, King took the cake when it came to standing up and asking for death. You would think he was the most depressed fuck on the planet as much as she had seen him counter, if not welcome, the threat of an end.

  Which is exactly why after a moment of hesitation she decided she didn’t think his threat of stopping her held much water. And if it did, clearly he was missing the big picture here. She knew charging forward and letting the cards fall as they would was not his style. That, in fact, he was more a wait for the perfect strike kinda guy. He was going to have to get over it as far as she was concerned, if war kept everyone in their comfort zone nothing good would come of it. It would all be a bore, actually.

  “Siding with the witch in you, are you then?” she asked lifting her chin. “I suppose Jamison knew what he was doing when he let you run with his daughter years back.”

  The room dropped a few more degrees. Reveca welcomed the sting of it—it was keeping her focused and fueling her hatred and vengeance toward all who had wronged her.

  “You, of all people, seek to destroy the one universe you were meant to heal.”

  “Oh fuck off, you sound like my father.” The man was relentless with Reveca before and after her imprisonment in the Edge. He kept telling her greatness was to come. She didn’t believe him until now, until she understood you do not wait for greatness, you hunt the bitch down.

  “Is that meant to be an insult?”

  “I have little time to stroke your ego much less insult it,” she chided.

  “Right,” he said as he pulled his shoulders back and pure rage set across his lean warrior body.

  “Do you like hiding like a coward from Revelin?” She taunted. “Do you like the glares and whispers the Sons have about you and those you lead? Hmm? Do you like knowing that to the coven you are nothing more than a pawn for them to move?”

  “Do you like mimicking Zale? Is it his bed you are missing in my recent absence?” King retorted.

  “Low.”

  “On point,” he said as
he began to circle her and his vim held her all the tighter. “Nothing can be destroyed without destroying part of the destroyer.”

  The line was one she had heard King use before he sent his men into battle when he was still a mortal. It meant they would not leave the battle as they arrived; the victories would be branded on their chest, the deaths as ghosts in their minds for all their life.

  “If you think I give a flying fuck about adding a few more faces to my nightmares you don’t know me at all, do you?”

  “This isn’t about haunts, Reveca. This is about a future you refuse to focus on.”

  “I’m not one of the seven,” she snapped. It was only when King completely wrapped her in his vim, in his own universe that she could even begin to fathom that her future was as great and unbelievable as he had sworn it would be. Not only him, but Jamison, and even Cashton, one of her own.

  When her enemies were slain, and she had peace in her heart, perhaps she could take in the fairytale once more, perhaps she could let herself believe a tomorrow would arrive in time. The bottom line was no tomorrow could arrive at all if Scorpio’s whore killed her—why could nobody understand that one fucking bold ass point was beyond her.

  “You’re determined to make everyone doubt that you are.”

  “By everyone, you mean the coven, right? The coven that sent me to save the rising King and Queen of Shock. Which I did, because at the time I was high on your bullshit. Then what? Oh, it was time to save my sweet lost niece. Saige set me up right with that one, had me all entangled in a war that was not mine, pulling Sons into a war they still do not understand, only to find out in the end, that wasn’t my niece. And two, a fucking army of light warriors has been under my nose this entire time. Hiding in my prison.

  Of all the revelations that had surfaced in the web of hearts and souls entangled around this ascension, The Selected was a true slap in the face if not a real threat. Reveca had seen the souls that had fallen into the Unclaimed. A place she could not even roam. The Selected was governing them like they were a host of kindergartners for fuck’s sake.