Disloyal Souls: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 8)

by Jamie Magee

  “What are you asked to give up?”

  She dropped her stare. “It’s what I’m asked to do.”

  “If it was predicted do you not know the end? I don’t understand you, woman.”

  “I know what must happen, but not the result.”

  “What must happen?”

  Her pause, the flood of dishonor in her emotions told him she was asking him to stop what her people had predicted to happen long ago.

  “Protect Reveca.”

  Talon’s hands pulled Saige’s face to his, he meant to curse her and demand clarity, for her to speak straight, but having her that close, feeling her breath land on his lips took him to another plane of existence. A world where nothing existed but them. His lips landed on hers and took in the sigh of glory as he tasted her. The primal man in him was determined to take what was his, right there, right then, but with the next sway of his kiss, she was gone.

  When he opened his eyes, she was on the other side of the landing they were standing on, blushed and shaking. Above them, Talley was paused on the steps with an utter look of disbelief strapped across his face.

  Talley cleared his throat. “Sorry boss, I was heading out to send the boys on their way. Judge left with Adair a bit ago. We don’t need to be here, less you wanna be.”

  Talon heard what he said, but he was staring down Saige, watching her pull the veil of cold indifference over her image. The trembling girl he just had in his arms was gone, the prim noble woman with a duty to manage was back. Fury took over his passion as he glanced up at Talley.

  “No, we’re out.”

  Every step Talon took away from Saige was marked by his inner rage. What bullshit was she up to now? Save Reveca? Yeah, right. Like he had ever been the one to save her from anything. He’s always been the easily influenced ride along, at least when it came to her witchery bullshit. The mortal wars, or wars with Rogues, he was all over that. Not so much for Reveca but for the simple fact that fighting was all he’d ever known how to do. Wars with Gods? How the hell was he s‘posed to counter that one?

  When they reached the formal entryway, Talon glanced back to the double doorway that was now wide open. Once he was sure he’d been told the truth, that his daughter and Judge were gone, he was done and was leaving. His arm reached out for Talley stopping his even stride.

  “You got something to say to me,” Talon bit out.

  Talley took his time turning to meet Talon’s fierce stare. “You don’t look dead anymore.”

  It was hard for Talon to not openly sigh. He was right. Ambrosia was gone, right along with her hooks of death. “Good to know—anything else?”

  Talley ticked his chin toward the stairway, in silent question. Talon raised a brow to clarify that yes he wanted to know what the fuck Talley thought about walking up on him and Saige. He could already imagine the rumors that would rage through the MC. Talon didn’t need that shit right now. Especially if Saige was under some fucked illusion that there was something Talon could protect Reveca from. That was King’s fucking job now.

  “’Bout time I guess,” Talley said indifferently.

  Talon leaned back like he’d been shoved by the nonchalant words. His reaction wasn’t because of them, it was because of the emotions he felt. Sensing Saige, knowing what was rambling around inside of her was the norm. Sensing someone’s fear or outright knowing they were lying to him was too. But right then, he felt Talley’s emotions like there were his own. It was all Talon could do not to shiver. He liked his personal space. What was going on then was different, weird. It put him in a world that was adjacent to his. A mind fuck.

  Talley was distracted, annoyed, worried. But of those emotions had to do with his life. When it came to Talon’s relief was all he felt.

  “What?” Talley said narrowing his stare. “I’m not saying I knew for sure. It’s not something we talk about.”

  Talon shook off the new vibe that was coursing through his instincts and focused on what he had going on in the here and now. One of them, either Saige or Talon, had allowed themselves to be caught for the first time in eras, for the first time. This was a revelation. Figuring out it wouldn’t be that big of a shocker to his crew. If it ever did come out was a different story. If he’d known this before, he would’ve taken far more risks.

  “What are you saying?”

  Talley stepped closer, speaking fast and low the way all immortals did when they were hiding their words from others about. “If you hated her as much as you led on, you would’ve found a way to kill her by now. Not sayin’ you’re a bad actor, just that you left this one livin’ for a reason.”

  This is exactly why Talon preferred to spend his life around warriors. Simple answers to basic questions, no gray area.

  “You forget it,” Talon said in a deadly tone. He was far too fresh from killing the mother of his child and another bout with a witch that had him by the balls to figure out what his next move was going to be.

  “Done.”

  “What’s with you?” Talon asked Talley. Sensing emotions was hard enough, asking about ‘em like some hard-up gossip whore was a slap to Talon’s image.

  Talley gave him a quick once over. “I’m good.”

  “Then what’s with that look? What’s distracting you?”

  “Me?”

  “No, fucker. The fly on the wall.”

  Tally shook his head. “I don’t know boss, something ain’t right.”

  “Nothin’ is right right now.”

  “True enough. I can’t tell you what’s up. I feel pulled.”

  “What? Between me and Vec?” No one had much time to digest Talon and Reveca’s latest split, but Talley had the least.

  “Long time comin’,” Tally said as respectfully as he could.

  Having to protect Adair from Reveca, keep a secret for Talon, for years on end had caused Talley to affirm the distance he’d always kept from Reveca. He respected her well enough, would fight at her side, but his trust was limited.

  “Don’t worry about me, Finley is tryna help me work through it. I don’t know how a twice-dead asshole is s‘posed to feel. For all I know I’m on point.”

  “Did you find Mia?”

  “Still on the lamb. Last Finley tracked Mia he was on his family’s lands.”

  Talon nodded sagely, “All right then. You take care of you right now. You hear me? I’m right as rain.”

  Tally smirked. “Close boss, but not there.” He ticked his head up. “Do you want a detail to hang with Saige?”

  “Are you kidding me? That female needs zero protection.”

  Talley didn’t crack the grin Talon was after. He’d seen too many of Reveca’s dark moods, and they’d all felt her once her mind laid claim on them.

  “I told you to forget what you saw. This shit has been rolling since the day I met those sisters. Nothing has changed, or will.”

  “Right, then,” Talley said jutting his chin for Talon to go on and let the crew with them see their leader.

  Talon took his time making his way to the front door. He was trying to shove his enhanced instinct into a box. It was fucking distracting. The last thing he wanted to add to his racing thoughts was how his people felt about it all, the way they truly felt, not the way they led others to believe.

  He could feel their unrest now, a despair that darkened their already shadowy souls. They needed a win, something to build moral. Something to give them hope.

  When he opened the door, and took long, powerful strides across the porch something remarkable happened. All his men stood up straighter. Their stoic expressions didn’t change but the emotions Talon felt coming from them did. This was the way they always looked at him after Saige had come to him and convinced him to stay, to fight on. It was not her words but her vim that empowered Talon. Today she had done more. Today she gave him and his men a new beginning.

  For all Talon fucking knew he was walking down a fiery path to a new doom. That didn’t matter. No one can live standing still. One way o
r another, Talon was going to live.

  Chapter Three

  Zosime Lambros tried to swallow. It burned. She was sure her throat was drowning in sand, but she didn’t have the strength to cough her way through it. Her hands gripped the stone beneath her fingers— it was cold and far from as smooth as she knew it should be. And the air, what she dared to draw in was tainted. It had to be, it was so thick and damp that to her it felt as if the ocean itself had taken over the openness she’d always known.

  It hurt, everything did, but more so her head and heart. Her mind fought to put the pieces together, to understand a shock that her soul was too terrified to acknowledge. Her heart had an excuse to hurt— more than one. Not only had she been robbed of all the people she trusted and adored...one of the last memories she had was the dagger invading her flesh, stopping everything, freezing her emotions as her mind fought to cling to the impossibility that she was dying.

  She couldn’t die. Shouldn’t die. Right?

  It was foretold. It was what her namesake underlined. From her first memory, she was told she was the one that would survive the Gods wrath, she would be the one standing at the end of times, welcoming a New Age.

  The Gods...

  It was a God that destroyed her, a God she lost her battle with. Wasn’t it? Her troubled mind recalled a horrid nightmare as her soul cowered in shame and fear. They were running. Her and Draxous, they had no choice. They had taken their pleasure and angered the heavens.

  Weakly, Zosime pressed her lips together tasting the sweet desire her lover had left there. Forbidden loves were designed to enhance the glory of loving another soul, another body. It is a gift and a curse from the Gods. Not many know how it feels to lose something before they’ve ever had it. Fewer can truly mourn for a lover they never had.

  Zosime had. If she were brave enough to believe her own heart, she would tell anyone Draxous did as well.

  Her father tried to stop it all; her mother did as well. All the glory of knowledge was given to their only child. Anything she could ever desire was lavishly given to her. Anything but freedom; freedom to see those outside of her villa, or to explore the power she felt strumming through her.

  What choice did she have but to leave?

  Her escape was short-lived and ill received by everyone. She was a secret her father had kept from the masses. Whatever his reasons, the rumors inflated them.

  Where others painted their skin to reflect a white tone, Zosime was born with ivory skin. Her hair was a color that couldn’t be explained simply. It was too golden to be called red, too red to be called blond, too much of either to dare to be considered as simply brown. It fell in long thick locks that curled naturally. When shaved on the sides and then sculpted into the shape of elegantly displayed snakes, she was proof to most that the Gods walked among them. Tall, full, lush curves and powerfully toned from head to toe, there was no keeping her a secret once she rushed into the world on her own.

  A Goddess or a witch, either way, her beauty was wicked, a distraction to every man and woman. A walking lure of seduction that would trap one forevermore if they dared to stare too deeply into her stone gray eyes.

  The Gods did show some mercy during Zosime’s unconventional unveiling to the world at large. Teachers came from far and wide. Teachers of magic, of prophets, of all things mystical and scarcely whispered about much less acknowledged openly. Some were thieves, some were not. All sought something from her that she could not give.

  Draxous came like a thief in the night. He appeared on her balcony, if it wasn’t for his sweat-dampened skin, the short breaths she heard escape his lips, she would have thought he was a God. Even now, after all she’d lived through, she wasn’t so sure he wasn’t. Why else would they have destroyed him? Loving a mortal, no matter what image she is cannot be easily accepted or taken seriously for very long. The mortals were only toys, flying on the whim of the Gods emotions and hoping to fair well.

  He said he dreamed of her.

  Draxous spoke so quickly, moving forward and back in his words, starting an explanation only to explain why, convinced her that he was sincere when he said he had. The male had seen her entire life from his mind’s eye. He’d felt her pain and drowned in the same emotions of despair she had. No matter how far and wide he searched he could not find the woman who he never believed to be real.

  Then the rumors found him. His gut twisted, and his heart raced as strangers described the being in his dreams.

  “I had to find you, I had to see with my own eyes.”

  Believing at least half the rumors about herself, Zosime kept her distance, sure that if she came too close she’d entangle his mind, curse his body and soul. She’d lose him before he had the chance to utter one more sentence.

  She could still feel him, a ghostly presence dancing around her flesh, exploring with an unseen force. Her body trembled with pleasure, and hungered like no other to be closer, drowning in the awakening she felt breaking down the walls of her prison. Something so divine had to be evil, nothing pure could spellbind a soul this easily. Right?

  Night by night they met face to face. He swore to her there was not a moment he was not with her when it wasn’t night. At times, when she felt her body tremble for no reason and heat spread over her cheeks, she was sure it was true. It was weeks upon weeks until they understood why she didn’t sense him more clearly, why her soul could not come to his as he came to her.

  It was in the tea, a sweet herb that was not only a delicacy, but a lifelong favorite of Zosime. Its magical powers kept her in the present, aware of her physical being at such an intense level that she never left the reality she was draped in, not even to dream.

  Dreaming for the first time...it was magical. All of her thoughts had time to manifest and swim around her, so deeply and powerfully that when she woke she didn’t feel burdened, or overridden with the explosive urge to escape. Dreaming was a power she’d been robbed of for too long, once she was able to again, she trusted those about very little, if at all. If they could take the gift of dreaming away her family and those in their service were capable of anything as far as she was concerned.

  It was Draxous that empowered her, his soul not only made her feel like a woman, like the Goddess she was accused of being, but he filled her with a passion for life. With him, her mind was open, ready to ask hard questions and believe the impossible.

  All the warnings from the great seers came, and for a while, they were heeded. Not even the slightest brush of flesh was given between Zosime and Draxous for months, nearly a year. War called him away for weeks at a time; she fought with him in her mind’s eye, saving him as he had saved her. When the message came that not only war would call him away once more, but also that she was to be sent far away from the fighting, there was no holding back the physical pull they had to each other.

  When he snuck into her chambers, and their eyes met, she ran into his arms, clinging to him with all the strength she had. When his hands ran through her hair, down her back and around her body, she knew she was a fool to have waited. With the power she felt strumming through her she could take out any size army, no matter where the witch led them. With the strength she knew she was giving him, she was sure the pair of them could rule the earth. Emotions, rich and prevailing, from the wicked to the glorious, and all between swarmed through them as they loved through the night.

  Kiss by kiss, her lips fell over his strong shoulders, down his chest, there wasn’t a single place she left untouched. When passion overtook him, and she found herself breathlessly underneath him as his body pounded forward melding them into one physical being, Zosime felt alive for the first time. Desired for who she was, not what she was promised to bring.

  By dawn, they’d lost count of the number of times they’d had each other, but had somehow devised a plan to escape it all during their passion. A joy that she had never felt before swarmed through Zosime as she fastened her tunic. Today they would run, today was her new beginning.

  She
was staring into his ice blue eyes biting her lip and hungry for another taste of his kiss, when she heard the battle cries of the invasion. Serenity was there one moment; dust, fire and hell had descended the next. Outrunning the fire and the force of the enemy they had all been warned about, Draxous pulled her to the communal baths—massive pools of water. When they saw the waters boiling, they knew they were fighting a supernatural force that no army could defeat. He was looking into her eyes when the stone ceiling vanished, and fiery winds ripped him from her grip.

  She fought to follow him, one blow to the back of her head had her tumbling to the ground. She crawled forward but was violently turned over to her back. She didn’t know the blond, gray-eyed witch glaring down at her, but she knew the words slipping from her lips: a death curse. An invisible dagger she felt slam into her heart promised Zosime she had understood the words perfectly.

  The undying was dying, barely twenty years of life, only one night of true pleasure, and one escape from the walls of her prison. A demon took her lover and a witch stole her promised immortality.

  Hadn’t the witch?

  Zosime struggled to open her eyes but the coward that she rarely let surface was large and in charge. Moving anything was out of the question. If she had survived, why would she want to? They’d taken Draxous. He was more than love, more than a best friend. He validated her, he gave her reason to adore what set her apart. What reason could there be for her to take back a life that was promised to be endless?

  A death curse, Zosime’s thoughts taunted. A death blessing. Her thoughts churned on and as they did her body tensed.

  Evil was washing over her mind.

  Visions she did not want to see came in a rush.

  No one, no matter the crime they had committed deserved to feel what she was feeling, or see what she was seeing. She told herself it wasn’t true. It could not be. Draxous could not have survived the evil she had seen take him. Draxous could never slip into another woman, feeling her body clench around him, and be audacious enough to smile. That wasn’t his smile, she told herself. That was not how he’d looked at her. It wasn’t the same hunger.