Immortal Desires: A Depraved Gods Novel

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Immortal Desires: A Depraved Gods Novel Page 7

by Elle Lincoln


  “Swordsmith?”

  “They make swords.” Rocco’s words are slow as he speaks to me like I’m a child.

  I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. “I know that, but what makes their swords so special?”

  “They use an ingredient that will operantly kill an immortal,” Flynn answers.

  I thought only my scythe could do that, but I dismiss the conversation and go back to looking around the room. My eyes catch on a cloth hanging on one wall, about the size of a tapestry, sagging from a simple hanger. “Flynn.”

  “Yeah?” His voice is distracted, not hearing the question in my own.

  I walk over to the dangling piece of cloth, the fabric niggling the back of my brain. My fingertips brush the edge as a wave of magic pulses into me. Feeling as though I’ve been zapped by lightning, I yank my hand back.

  “Oh my.” My eyes widen as a scene plays out upon the cloth before me. Knights and shining armor. Blood saturating the ground. And high up on a hill, I stand with my scythe raised to the heavens as my mouth opens wide in a battle cry.

  “What is it?” Flynn comes to stand beside me, his own fingers grazing the cloth. His snap back as his own eyes widen.

  Yet the scene doesn’t change for me, staying the same until it slowly fades from view.

  “What do you see, Flynn?” He must be seeing something different than me.

  “I have no idea.”

  Rocco pushes through, brushing his fingers against the cloth. Same damn reaction.

  My mind slowly connects the dots, amazement blanketing me as my eyes catch a piece missing from the edge. “Madam Delores had a cloth exactly like this. Did anyone notice if it was missing?”

  “I didn’t know to look for it.” Flynn finally looks away from the vision. “We need to check for it immediately. He whistles once as one of the sisters enters the room, her nose twitching as a sneeze erupts from her nostrils. “This cloth, check and see if it’s at Madam Delores’s shop at once.”

  Camilla and Nova pound down the stairs. “How are they going to open the door like that?”

  “They will shift.” Flynn looks at me like I’ve lost it.

  “Then why stay in panther form this entire time?” I cross my arms, wondering at the odd play between them.

  “Because they cannot shift with clothing, Mae.” He cants his head to the side, looking down at me with an intriguing smile. “Interesting, we will talk about that later.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re picking up on, but now is not the time.” Liar, liar pants on fire.

  “This is dangerous.” Rocco’s solemn voice pulls us back to the present. “Flynn, we need to hide this somewhere.” Rocco begins to rip the tapestry down, his face scrunching because it keeps zapping him.

  “Here.” I rip it from his hands and enter the otherworld, depositing it in the ether where I can call on it if need be. I reemerge to see Flynn and Rocco packing up a few of the pictures.

  “I need to see if that cloth is at her shop.” I turn to Flynn. “I’ll see you back at headquarters, night is falling.” My eyes flick to Rocco for a moment, and his head nod tells me he’s with me tonight.

  Feeling awkward, I give Flynn a gentle kiss on the cheek goodbye, somehow needing that small touch to feel close to him in some way. With that, I ghost out of there and downtown to the shop. I emerge just as Camilla and Nova enter. One bare ass naked, and the other still in panther form.

  Without words, we enter the back room where flies begin to buzz. I ignore the gruesome scene and focus solely on the table sitting in the middle of the room, without the small square piece of cloth.

  “It’s gone.” My heart hammers in my throat. “It’s gone.”

  “The cloth?” one of the sister’s growls, I think it’s Nova in human form. “I can’t smell shit past all this rot.”

  The other shifts, standing beside her sister. “Nova, do you smell that?”

  “You haven’t been down here yet?” I question, only to be shushed by both.

  “The human.”

  “Not quite.”

  “Changeling?” I supply, and both of their heads snap in my direction. “Thought so. Can you track him or her?”

  “It’s fucking faint.” Camilla shudders before walking out of the back of the building. “I can’t smell shit here.”

  The door slams against the wall, with Nova following in her wake, leaving me alone. I shake my head. I didn’t know what to expect from those two, but the cold shoulder wasn’t it. Maybe a thank you for risking your life for me would have been nice.

  I groan, that probably was their thank you. With a hand over my mouth, my eyes scan the room, searching for something that stands out. I look for the ghosts that usually follow me, but they are still hidden somewhere, just out of view.

  Suspicious.

  “Where did you live?” I walk out of the reading area—the building is one story, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a basement. I enter the back room, finding a supply closet and a door leading down into pitch-black nothingness. “This is how the main character dies in horror movies.”

  Damn, I miss movies.

  I search the supply closet and find a random fire poker, cloth I wrap around the tip, and a lighter I use to set the fucker on fire. Then, I descend into the darkness on creaking stairs and through cobwebs.

  My feet settle upon a dirt floor. In one corner sits a cot with a small refrigerator. Her luxuries were small, unless this was just where she holed up for the night once the sun fell.

  The ceiling just grazes my scalp as my eyes catch on a corner where rubble sits in small, dusty piles. As I near, I discover the tunnel that’s become of so familiar to me. “So that’s how you got past her ward.” I remember that ward shocking Argos across the room, so we must be beyond its reach here, entering just beneath it. She probably didn’t even know this tunnel existed.

  I run the torch along the arched doorway. He or she must have broken through. “Did you make any mistakes? Everyone makes mistakes. A changeling isn’t exempt from that.”

  Talking to myself helps me feel just a hair less crazy. The entire feel of this tunnel is creepy, holding that gothic vampire vibe. I almost expect someone to pop out of the darkness.

  It just doesn’t feel right. I back away slowly, intent to return here with Rocco later so he can just smoke his way through. But I’m holding the torch, and if I ghosted out now, it might not happen without me setting the basement aflame, and I’d rather not set the entire row of houses on fire.

  I turn and head upstairs, but that feeling of being watched increases, creeping up my spine like an arachnid. Those small, little legs raising the hairs on my neck. Like a child, I run up the steps, half anticipating something to grab at my feet.

  I slam the door shut and back out of the space. Something tells me I’m not alone. Which makes me wonder, just how safe are those tunnels? The ones that connect us to everyone.

  Chapter 9

  Mae

  Night falls swiftly, consuming the last rays of light that provide safety—though we are never truly safe. A fine fog rolls in through the streets like a trembling ocean wave. Odd for Earth, but normal for the Realm, making it normal here, or so I assume.

  The dusting of snow melted with the sun, but the sky looms with ominous clouds, growing increasingly heavier and grey the further we get toward nightfall. The moon, hidden from view, grants no light, despite the covens having done their best to replace the streetlights with their orbs of muted light.

  My steps clack as I head home, not toward headquarters, but my home, where my leather jacket hangs and something other than a business suit will allow me functionality against any enforcer I come across.

  Yet my mind sways back to those tunnels, leaving me torn between hunting Neit’s elite or scouring the depths of the city.. Either way, I need to change. Morrigan’s outfit choices are perfect for a boardroom, but not great for the streets. It also makes me somewhat curious to know if she ran around ancient battles in gowns. I
don’t doubt it.

  As always, my shoulders sag in relief as I walk up my steps and through the front door, releasing all the tension built throughout the day. Every sound and echo reminds me that home is never too far away.

  My leather jacket hangs just beyond the front door, dry from the rain the night before. My feet carry me swiftly upstairs and into my bedroom where I plan to clothe my skin in all black.

  “I should have known you wouldn’t come straight to the compound.”

  My head falls as my eyes trace the dresser in front of me. I can ignore him and ghost out of here, or I can address the issues at hand.

  I peek over my shoulder and stare as Flynn holds himself perfectly still against the wall, his arms crossed as he gazes at me with curiosity. “I went back to Delores’s shop.”

  I rip the damn suit jack off, then the silky blouse beneath it. As I’m digging through my drawers for a sports bra, Flynn’s voice resonates up my spine. “What did you find?”

  “A tunnel in the basement.” I rip my bra off, putting the other one on, before facing Flynn whose eyes trace the curves of my body like a starved man. Perhaps he is. “But it was how I felt that leaves me confused.”

  “What’s that?” His tone carries a seducing whisper, sliding over every nerve in my body.

  “Haunted.” I unbutton my slacks, letting the zipper echo in the room before moving past Flynn and into the closet for a pair of leather pants.

  “Someone was watching you?” He rolls his body against the wall to face me, his eyes watching as I push my pants down and off my body.

  “That’s how I felt, whether or not someone was truly there remains to be seen.” His restraint is astounding, even when I bend over to step into my pants. I’m almost disappointed until his warmth surrounds me and his hands flex on my hips.

  “What do you hope to gain with this show?” His breath tickles my ears, my body arching into his, my eyes closing.

  “Just to feel you like this,” I whisper into the dim room.

  “You tease me.” His lips skim my neck, his tongue trailing a path to my shoulder.

  “I entice you,” I reply, as his teeth bite down. My body arches farther into his and his arm wraps around me, pulling me in close.

  “Tell me, Mae, what do you want right now?” His voice holds that subtle seriousness he’s known for. A thread of demand to plan the future.

  His question chills the desire pulling me in like a funnel, and both of his arms wrap around me now, choosing comfort over the needs desire inspires.

  My mind blanks, drifting through the numerous wants my selfish consciousness demands. Yet not one of those are important in the grand scheme of things—a hot shower in this home, right now, to be more than just the person I was, and an endless supply of bread. The desires range from logical to illogical.

  “I’m not sure.” Flynn pulls me around to face him, his forehead resting against mine.

  “It’s a question that will always evoke evolving answers. There is no correct answer, but it inspires thought.” His lips brush mine, lingering just as they press before he pulls away, taking a few steps back.

  “Tunnels, or enforcers, or apartment hunting.” I grab a black, long sleeve shirt from my closet, covering my midriff as I await Flynn’s answer.

  “You have an apartment with me.” His lips tick up just slightly, then it’s gone as he hides his amusement.

  I hum low in my throat. “I have the option, yes.” And maybe a dash of commitment phobia. Before Flynn came back into my life, I just dismissed the thought of relationships. They’d never compare anyway, so I lived without the need to define who I was to another. I already gave my heart away.

  “Then may I suggest we secure the tunnels?” He raises a brow. “Since you have already recruited my best friend.”

  I wince a little at that one. Pulling out a pair of heavy socks and my boots, I sit to pull them on. “I didn’t know what commitments you already had.” It’s a shit excuse and we both know it.

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” His dry tone is hard to interpret. I’m not a fan.

  I turn on a heel, walking out of the room while pulling my hair into a frizzy ponytail, as Rocco materializes on the landing.

  “Good to go?” He smiles, telling me he’s been eavesdropping. “Unless you want to stay and... ya know.” He thrusts his hips in the air.

  “Rocco.” My tone is weary but amused.

  “What? It’s nature, baby.” He winks at me, making my amusement harder to hide. “Sometimes, you just need that release to get shit done. Am I right?”

  “Rocco,” Flynn scolds.

  “You’re just pissed off she finds me interesting.” I move past Rocco, knowing there is no way this conversation is going to go over well.

  “Because you’re crude. For some reason, that amuses her.” I walk down the steps, ignoring their lover’s quarrel. They have been best friends for so long that at times I can’t tell who’s in a relationship—Flynn and I, or Flynn and Rocco. They bicker like an old married couple.

  “He’s a bit of comic relief,” I call over my shoulder. “A rogue comic,” I mutter to myself.

  Smoke drifts down the stairs and past me, then Rocco materializes before me. “Tell me, Mae, you’d date me, wouldn’t you?”

  I pause, unsure what the hell kind of question that’s supposed to be.

  “Rocco,” Flynn growls, which only makes Rocco smile that much broader.

  “The way I see it, we’d be perfect for each other.” I swear he purrs. I can’t even decide if he’s fucking with me or if he’s serious.

  Well, I’m going to test this. I take a step toward him, and his eyes widen for a brief second before he smiles at me. “I don’t know, Rocco, I don’t know what I’m getting underneath all that smoke.” I run my hand across his chest, my fingertips grazing what feels like living cotton, then over the long trench coat he always wears.

  That’s as far as I get before he steps away, shaking his head. “Well, I guess you called me out, didn’t you?” His laugh is slightly humorous. “I’m a djinn, darling, underneath is nothing more than flesh.”

  “Liar.” I smile. “But that’s okay, I don’t really need to know.” I wink before moving past him and grabbing my jacket.

  “The tunnels, we will start back at Madam Delores’s.” Flynn quickly grabs the jacket from my hands, holding it out for me to put on. “If you don’t mind ghosting us there, Mae?”

  I grab their wrists and ghost us back to Madame Delores’s, but this time when I materialize, the scent of bleach hits my nose, making me sneeze.

  “Good, the place has been cleaned.” Flynn’s steps are sharp along the floor as he checks that the place was indeed cleaned.

  “He had someone clean up?” I whisper to Rocco, wondering when in the hell he arranged that.

  “I believe the shrine did it for him. Neither of us could get past the wonder of how many bodies are out there just rotting.” Rocco’s lip curls at that statement.

  “The hospital?” I wonder where they took her.

  He shakes his head no before answering, “A crematorium. We don’t know about any diseases in this new life. Diseases that may be far worse than anyone has ever seen.”

  I shudder to think of the common cold with a magical flare. Although I’m imagining a sneeze with glitter, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that pretty. “Do you think the mortals would survive that?” I chew on my bottom lip.

  “Hard to tell.” Rocco’s eyes scan the back room before he looks down at me with his smoky glare. “Where there is a will, there is a way.”

  I damn near roll my eyes at that.

  “Evolution, my dear. They will adapt, as will we. I have a feeling we haven’t even begun to hear the voices of the mortals’ battle cry yet. Mark my words, when we do, it will be hell.”

  “Why do you say that?” My brow scrunches up with my nose, and Rocco tweaks the latter.

  “Because mortal men have few desires.” Flynn’s voice floats to m
e down the hallway, and Rocco and I both turn to look at him. “They desire power most of all. We’ve essentially knocked them from the food chain. They will fight for the position they want, even if their time is limited, they will feel the need to prove the importance of their existence. Of their god.” Flynn brushes past us, heading for the basement steps.

  “Flynn, what of the God of Men?” It isn’t at all a topic I had thought of or desired to. I had my studies, my books, and my little woes so religion never entered my life. Perhaps knowing what I know now, that’s entirely due to Gramps knowing far more than he ever let on.

  “That, kitten, is a discussion for another day.” The door creaks open on tight hinges.

  “But, Flynn, is there truth to it?” I’m not sure why I need an answer to that now, but for some reason I get the feeling it could change everything.

  “There is truth in all myth, Mae, just look in the mirror.” With that, he descends the steps on heavy feet, with Rocco following closely in his wake.

  It isn’t an answer, but it’s one I’ll have to accept for now. Especially considering our small community holds many humans in that prison the tunnel has access to. I dust the cobwebs off my mind, shelving the thought for later, before following the murmuring voices into the dark cellar.

  Once more, that feeling of not being alone overwhelms me, but this time I can’t determine if it is residual or newer. I brush what I believe to be hair from my face, only to come face to face with a web. My hands flutter the sticky thread from my eyes as I step closer to the men who inspect the archway that leads into the entire underworld.

  Which sparks a new thought. “These tunnels were supposed to be a myth.” The two men turn to look at me with speculation. “Yet here they are. We know nothing about them except for the fact we’re going to need them once winter hits. What if...” I pause, knowing this is going to sound ridiculous. “What if it’s a literal underground? Like an underworld?” I raise my eyes, hoping they get the drift of where my mind is at with this.

  “Mae.” Flynn uses his best fatherly tone. “The Underworld, like the Greeks?” He speaks so slowly my ire flares.

 

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