Sacred Betrayal: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 3)

by Jamie Magee

  There are times in an immortal’s life, in anyone’s life, when they feel they have seen, understood too much to cling blindly to a faith that was given to them, instilled, branded upon them as a child.

  Then at almost the exact moment they have given up all hope, a force they can’t see or understand tests them. Those are the moments that they reach back to a faith which bore them. They don’t see all that they have disproved, all that they believed to be exaggerated or binding. In one glance back, they feel the comfort, not in the stories and not the predictions, but in that all engrossing feeling which tells them they are a part of something they will never understand, yet knowing so will always protect them, guide them when they can’t see through the darkest of hells they are treading through.

  That’s where Reveca was now. Her path would move forward as planned until such time the fates, the signs, told her differently. No matter how painful that path may be, no matter the consequence.

  Balance is what she wanted, needed. Long ago, King let go so she could live, and now she was going to do the same.

  She glanced to the banks and smiled, even bowed to the souls she did see, her way of saying her cargo that night had nothing to do with them. This was yet another balance she was trying to find peace with.

  Karma ensures balance.

  Most don’t realize this simple law because rarely is karma instant. More times than not, the reaction of your actions never comes from the same direction. It usually arrives from one you’d never expect. Therefore, these souls were the closest thing to balance Reveca and her boys could find. An evil for an evil.

  Reveca wasn’t fond of moving souls anywhere. In her mindset nature took its course with three options: The light claimed them and pulled them to some beyond that Reveca had yet to understand, but adored and respected all the same; some move to the Unclaimed, the darkness, until their debts are paid. Or there is the Veil. What goes on beyond there, Reveca could never say for sure. Her moving these souls, forcing them somewhere, disrupted the nature that was her church. But then again, she also believed in vengeance.

  Well-delivered, well-deserved vengeance, the kind that was conveyed with thought and not emotion. Each of these souls was vile. For some, going to Crass would be a vacation, far easier than what they had waiting for them in the Unclaimed. At the same time, she knew she was feeding a hungry beast, one that she’d aggravated and provoked more than once.

  Staring at those souls she had to wonder how she could ever offer Crass more, what she could do or say that would allow her to free King. Nothing that wasn’t nauseating was coming to mind.

  “Are you all right?” Reveca asked Cashton.

  Not long after Zale had left he had let go of Reveca and leaned into the side of the boat and was slowly moving his hand over his wrist, over his hidden mark. In deep thought, all peace gone from him.

  “Aye.”

  “You know,” she said as she moved closer to him, leaned at his side and stared forward, “loyalty is a hard thing to swallow sometimes.”

  Cashton glanced to his side at her.

  “Sometimes you come to a crossroad and you know you should do something, but you don’t think you can live with it.”

  Cashton furrowed his brow.

  “You said the brand, the one your words are sealed about, it was about defending us, your loyalty to the Sons.”

  He didn’t deny it.

  “You have to make sure you can live with it, Cash,” Reveca said. “Especially since you’re immortal. There’s a difference between doubt and a gut feeling telling you that you’re going the wrong way.”

  “I know that difference,” he said reverently.

  “You tell me that Windsome put the brand on you and now your gut says differently, and I will leave Crass tonight and go to her. Track her in the Veil and tell her to take the brand from you and give it to me.” She looked him over. “You’re just passing through, Cash. We all know so, that doesn’t make us love you any less.”

  “I’m not following you,” he said as his gaze trickled over her.

  “That’s a brand on you. What has to occur before it leaves, it very well could stick with you. I can already see it weighing on you. I’m just telling you to make sure you can live with it.”

  Cashton smirked, somewhat narrowed his eyes on her. “My only issue with it is holding back.” He paused so Reveca could see how serious he was. “I’m not passing through. I will always be a part of this family. In some way, somehow. Even if I rise up to this fate I can’t fathom, in this reality, this is my home. This is the place that made me whole and led me to where I needed to be. The debt can’t be repaid.”

  “Good,” she said with a weary smile. “Because I don’t think the boys could deal if you didn’t come ‘round anymore.”

  Cashton laughed. “Easy target, I know.”

  “That’s not it. They sense it. From the beginning we have always sensed our family. They’d fight side by side with us for years, never knowing we were immortal, but we always knew they would be patched in one day, that we didn’t want to let them go.” She glanced to his kut. “They have never patched anyone as fast you.” She nodded to his wrist. “It hurt?”

  “No. Just aggravated every now and again. All good now.”

  “And no doubt?”

  “None.” He looked deep in her eyes. “I made her do it to me.”

  “What’s coming is that bad, huh?” Reveca asked, already knowing the answer.

  He didn’t answer, just reached his arm around her.

  It wasn’t long after, the caves of Crass and his shore came into view. His men, the same ones she engaged the other night, had rowed out to meet them as if Reveca was going to change her mind and steer her vessel away. They wanted to ensure it didn’t occur.

  When they docked she allowed the men on board, allowed them to unload the inventory of souls, crate after crate. She knew Erio and the others were already nervous about being this close to a death they had avoided by lingering in Reveca’s Edge.

  Reveca was already holding her breath, the sour milk stench mingled with mud was gross on its own. Seeing how filthy the men were, their tattooed heads, sick smiles with only a tooth or two was enough to test any gag reflex.

  “Back off, mate,” Cashton said to one of them men that kept looking at Reveca like she was a steak dinner and he hadn’t eaten in days.

  Cashton hooked his finger in Reveca’s back belt loop. His way of ensuring his silent claim was on her, and that she would not vanish from his sight.

  He already knew he was going to get hell when they got back, simply because everyone was planning on coming tonight. They couldn’t come all the way to the shore, to death, but they could be intimidating as hell in the waters as they watched from a distance. If something happened to her, he’d get worse than hell.

  It was a slow crawl going into the caves. The men and the souls went first. Reveca wanted Crass to see she had gone above and beyond what he had requested.

  When she entered the cave he wasn’t staring at the crates with hunger as she had assumed he’d have been. No, he was glowering at her from his throne, leaned to the side, and slowly letting his forefinger rub his temple in long slow circles.

  At this point all around him was Reveca’s inventory. Making the cave all the smaller, all the more haunting.

  “The Queen of the Edge has arrived,” Crass said finally. His tone was deep, harsh, and judgmental.

  “Patience is a virtue, Crass.”

  He licked his lips. “And what makes you think I have any virtues?”

  Reveca let an easy smile come to her. “Modesty, there’s one.”

  Crass shook his head and did his best not to let a sliver of a grin come to him.

  “Surely you can see that what I brought you was something that took time to gather…and surely your men told you the vessel I was aboard the other night was not nearly large enough to bring all of this to you.”

  He leaned forward. “I didn’t ask for yo
ur company the other night. I demanded it, and you ignored me.” He lifted his jaw. “You were lingering near the Veil, my kingdom. What purpose did you have to do so?”

  “You are not my keeper, Crass. I have no keeper.”

  Crass looked over Cashton nice and slow, then to Reveca. “I bridged an alliance with you. And I did so because I understood it was singular, that you were not bartering with other Lords.”

  All the Lords of Death were territorial. Each striving to gain the most souls that had died ripe with the emotions and tendencies the Lords thrive from. Each knowing that a fellow Lord would destroy them the first chance they had, rob their empire.

  “I barter for what I want, but I assure you, Crass, I have not laid eyes on another Lord since you.”

  “Flattered,” Crass said in a flat tone. “And you just came this close to death for mere pleasure. I’m to believe that?”

  “I often travel this close to death.”

  “For?”

  “Visiting family, friends.”

  “An immortal, who brings back the dead, with friends in death. Do you aspire to speak any truth to me this night?”

  “An immortal witch with family and friends in death. Everyone knows witches lurk with both.”

  “A fellow witch abides in death?” he asked, with a lifted brow.

  “We all have one loon in our family,” Reveca responded dryly.

  “And that loon always has someone that is daring enough to help them reach their aspirations.”

  Reveca let a slow smile come to her. “Truth.”

  “Was it a warm visit, same old conversation, updating the family on the paths of others?”

  “Is there a point to this, Crass? Do you really care to hear of witches cackles, of our banter?”

  “I do if it’s aimed at me, if it breaches or causes an infraction against my own.”

  “Then fear not. I don’t want to disappoint you, but you were not a topic of conversation.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Arrogance, not really a virtue, a defining personality trait nevertheless.”

  He dared to hide a grin once more. “All of those in power, such as any witch that was cut from your cloth, have their eyes on the mortal world.”

  Crass was nervous about something, she could tell. He was too angry not to be, and that very well could be her way to barter with him. Soothe those worries. “As they always have.”

  “More so,” he said slyly. “We don’t care to be toyed with.”

  “Who does? I can only bring you so many souls at once, Crass. Mortal worlds have mortal laws, consequences to actions, and though this may shock you, finding souls such as these I have brought to you is not as easy as it may seem. There is still vastly more good than evil where I lurk.”

  He laughed darkly. “From my position I can adamantly say that is debatable, to say the least.” He narrowed his eyes. “Someone is pulling power from your side. Reaching into the depths, waking dormant energy, energy that had all but forgotten about the mortals, ones that will find their way here at one point or another.”

  Reveca said nothing. She was sure this had something to do with the drug Black. It may have the blood of immortals within it. It may have herbs that could be toxic if not blended properly, but it also had energy within it. The energy came from the words. The recipe that told those fools how to make the drug in the first place. Those words, the ones that Evanthe was now protecting, pulled from death.

  “It wasn’t all that bothersome at first,” Crass said with a sigh. “Something I enjoyed toying with, testing. Now sources are telling me those same souls that called me to them have now moved on, are bartering with other Lords. Promising far more than the souls you have brought to me.”

  Those fucking idiots, Reveca thought to herself. Surely when they had issues with their words not working properly, they assumed they had exhausted the energy, and now were reaching out to others.

  “And you know as I do that karma will have its say,” Reveca said. “Their promises will never be delivered, and in the end the Lords will only own the souls that summoned them as a payment.” She nodded to the souls she had brought. “You are already in wealth. You have the souls who taunted you, and you have the Queen of the Edge supplying you with more.”

  Crass stared long and hard at her. “Vow to me that you are not giving souls to other Lords. That this deal before us is solitary.”

  “Vowed,” Reveca said, without missing a beat.

  Crass smiled. “You are always a pleasant surprise. The sight of you eases me for some reason.”

  “I have that effect on people. It must be because I’m so charming.”

  Crass laughed. His stare lingered, then he breathed in. “It’s because you’re a hunter, and I need such in my graces now.” He leaned forward on his throne. “You are right, these souls are reaching into the depths of darkness for power, and they will never be able to deliver the bargains they lay down. They don’t believe we are real, that we are tangible, and those that do— feel they can outrun us all.”

  Creator have mercy on their souls, Reveca thought to herself. Never tick off a Lord of Death. That was a given, and this Mr. Black guy and those in his company were doing just that. “I’m rarely wrong, a consequence of living so long.”

  Crass’s eyes glinted with contentment. “They still crossed me. They sought power from me first, then others as well, greedy for more.” He paused. “I want them all. And you will bring them to me. Those who cast the spell, those who are present, those who supplied their blood for the spell, who committed to the debt.”

  “Our barter is set, Crass. And you have nothing I care to trade for now.”

  Anger came to the glint in his eyes. “You ripped me off, and we both know it.”

  “Me? I did no such of a thing. You tried to play me, send me home with one of your—” she glanced to the men around the room as she strained to think of a less insulting description than the one that was on the edge of her lips “—devoted servants.” She let a flirtatious smile come to her. “You can not fault me for being a worthy opponent. I didn’t play you. I brought you a soul in exchange for another then I allowed you to weigh the soul for more than it was, and now you and I are in sync. I bring you souls, and your memory is well intact.”

  Crass sat back on his throne. “How is our false king?”

  “Your insight into his personality was accurate,” Reveca said dryly.

  Crass laughed and shook his head. “Hard to tame. I barely got the chance to try, and to this day, so many seek him. Revelin left just this dawn. You are aware of him, are you not?”

  Fuck. “May have read a thing or two about him. Some sovereign of emotion, correct?”

  “Yes. He was quite troubled, though I doubt he wanted me to see that in him. He’d heard the rumors that I had such a prize as a king. He was sure they were false until all at once he began to feel turbulence in his ranks.”

  “Weakness.”

  Crass let his eyes say yes. “His words not mine. I would dare say he feels one of two occurrences, either an uprising or separation.”

  “I understood those to be one in the same.”

  “Then you do not understand his world.”

  “I do not strive to understand what I have no interest in.”

  Crass stared at Reveca’s blank uninterested expression for a long moment. “I suppose you don’t. Nevertheless, I made it clear to him that I had none of his in my care.”

  “Which makes you an honest Lord.”

  “One you will barter with again,” Crass said, in a tone that offered no room for argument.

  “You’re not asking me to barter, you’re asking to add to the one that is present.”

  “Did you not hear me? I shielded you from a God. It is clear to me from my standpoint that either your coven has found a way to release King from his rank among souls or you have empowered him to rise, one of the two. My silence is allowing you to embark on the war games that hold
your interest now.”

  “You have a vast imagination, Crass. No such thing has occurred.”

  “Then I should tell Revelin where to find his beloved lost son?”

  “If you wish, and when you do so, return Newberry to me, intact, and each of these souls as well.”

  “You’re impossible. Is she like this in the mortal world as well?” Crass asked Cashton.

  “Aye, she’s taking it easy on you, mate. There, she’s bloody brutal.”

  Crass nearly laughed. “And what are you to her? Why do I sense death on you?”

  “Crass, I have things to do. Perhaps next time we will have a chat about my companions,” Reveca said curtly.

  “We’re not done,” Crass said. He nodded to the man next to him who proceeded to unroll a scroll that was at least five feet long.

  “What is that, a grocery list?” Reveca asked. She looked bored and calm on the outside, but on the inside all the years of war and strife she had lived through were starting to make some sense. She knew those names. Some she knew well, too well. Others she was sure she would cross at some point before this mess with Black was settled.

  “A do what?” Crass asked.

  Reveca shook off the question. “I’m not hunting. You have proved you have no patience. It took me this long to find what I have given you. There is no way you can withstand the time it will take me to find those souls.”

  “The list grows longer each day, Reveca. Which means in your world it would behoove you to act swiftly. For if you don’t, the fine line between our worlds will be all but vanished.”

  Reveca’s eyes glided over the list once more, and in her mind she weaved the names she knew next to the infractions that she was determined to have each answer for. When she reached the bottom she saw that more names were appearing. They weren’t appearing fast enough for this list to have the users of the drug on it, but no doubt the makers.

  Reveca knew she was right before. What had spawned this near desperate reaction in Crass. When Evanthe went into the pages she stopped the power of the words, only the mortals didn’t know she did. They surely assumed the Lord of Death they were taunting was weak or had met his worth and sought another, making other Lords aware for deeds Crass was up to. Everything had a chain reaction—everything.