THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series

by Shana Congrove

  I am writing to inform you that my brother, Ashton Christopher Ratcliff, of his own accord, passed away on 29 July 1819. I have enclosed a final letter from Ash addressed to you. I do not suppose there are words to express the sorrow that weighs heavy on my heart. After your departure, Ash did not take well to your absence. For many days, his state of mind drifted toward despair. Unfortunately, he could not recover. If only to ease your sorrow, Ash loved you to the end.

  Yours faithfully,

  Nicolas J. Ratcliff

  Out of nowhere, Jena brought her head up and looked forward. She suddenly had an unexplainable urge. Placing the letter back into the envelope, she set the journal down on the bed and got up. Then she took a seat at the easel Angie had given her as a gift. As she stared at the blank canvas, an image came to mind. Using a small brush, she dipped it into her paint palette, mixing the colors, and began with the figure right away. Her strokes were slow as she made an outline of a face. Soon she began to define the features. Gradually, the face took on the form of a young woman. She recognized the face, but it didn’t make any sense. It was then she realized who the woman was in her painting. It was of herself, although somewhat different. “How odd,” she whispered. Her painting appeared vintage, as if she had painted herself in another era of time, similar to Nicolas’s generation.

  Releasing a sigh, she put the brush down and moved to her feet. Jena was eager to absorb herself into Nicolas’s story once again. As she slipped back into bed, she reached for the journal. Before she began to read, she noticed there seemed to be several pages missing, as though, for some specific reason, someone had torn them out. How strange, Jena thought. Regardless, she continued to read.

  The night before I would say my final farewell, I went to bed as usual, feeling overcome with sorrow and despair, but after hours of staring at the ceiling, I finally fell asleep.

  As I lay in bed, something alarming roused me from a deep slumber. I sensed a presence looking down on me. My eyes rounded in fear when I opened them. For a moment, I doubted if it were real or just a dream. The room was the same, unchanged in any way since I fell asleep. I could see the brilliance of the moonlight shining through the thin drapery covering the windows. It was then I began to rub my eyes to see if I were truly awake. It felt like a nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake and find myself alone in my bed, but my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake but found that I could not move. My body felt as though it was frozen in place. I could barely manage the effort to breathe.

  I was not alone.

  It appeared to be a man standing above me. A tall, older man dressed in a black hooded robe. He loomed over me in a manner that made me fear for my life. Strands of long, white hair flowed from the inside of his large, loose cowl and past his wide shoulders. As he lowered himself closer, his abnormal and unearthly features rendered me speechless. His ghostly complexion was almost translucent, and his eyes were as black as coal. It looked to be the angel of death coming to claim my soul.

  When the hooded stranger reached out his hand, I quickly shut my eyes and shuddered in terror. The instant he placed his palm against my arm, it was cold as ice, more like the hand of the dead than the living.

  I was afraid to raise my eyelids but peeked out from the corner of my eye and saw perfectly as he bowed in a courtly way. I remember his words all too clearly as he said, “I’ve come to ease your soul.”

  His intriguing words brought my head around and my eyes to meet his pale-skinned face.

  My mouth fell open as a stutter escaped, “H-how?”

  When he removed his hand from my arm, he then extended it out to me. “Take my hand, Nicolas,” he said, “so that I may show you.”

  Although peculiarly sharp white teeth protruded over his lips when he spoke, his soothing and spellbinding voice seemed to have dissipated all my fears. Then, I wondered, how did this ghostly visitor know my name? As I debated my decision, I noticed his nails were long and filed to sharp points. Who was this stranger, I feverishly asked myself, and what did he really want? I found that I could no longer hold my tongue and asked, “Who are you?”

  His lips took on a cruel curve. “I am... the Master.”

  “Why are you here?” I hesitated to ask, but my emotions were on edge, and I refused to continue to cower at the face that would frighten most men.

  He stepped closer, narrowing his haunting eyes on me that seemed to be almost red when they contrasted with the pale, yellow moon. “I have the power to bring your brother back to the living.”

  A weighted pause fell between us as I deliberated over the meaning of his words. “But how,” said I, “is it possible to bring back the dead? Tell me, I beg you!”

  The Master smiled, and his long, sharp teeth peeked out from beneath his lips. “Take hold, Nicolas,” he murmured, bringing his hand closer. “The answers you seek are just within my grasp.”

  As he awaited my decision, inviting me to join hands, somehow his soulless eyes spoke to me as though they were daring me to seek what I desperately wanted. I remained silent, staring at him in anticipation. It was with some weakness in my heart that I finally reached out and took hold of his icy-cold hand.

  Then his mind meshed with my own, relaying things that were impossible and unimaginable. In that instant, an agreement exchanged between our minds and swept through me as quick as lightning.

  While looking at my face attentively, the Master said in a soft whisper, “You are, and will forever be... the immortal.”

  I instantly became weak and feverish, but it faded as quickly as it came. I realized at that moment what was transpiring. I was dying. From then on, my body grew stronger and I experienced things that I cannot put into words. It was as if I had been reborn, looking at everything through a new set of eyes, eyes that could see beyond the human eyes I once possessed. It was as though all my senses awakened for the first time.

  Then the Master went on to explain in detail of how I was to resurrect Ashton. His instructions were chilling and seemingly unforbidden, but I later followed them with perfect precision.

  If only I’d known what was to become of my brother, I would have never brought him back from the dead. Gifted with eternal life and heightened perceptions were what I sought for my brother and me, although Ash was entirely something else, something derived from hell itself.

  A knock startled Jena. Her eyes averted from the journal as she focused them on the bedroom door. Then a familiar voice called out to her, “Jena, it’s Angie. You coming down for breakfast?”

  “Yeah, give me a few minutes,” Jena replied as she quickly hid Nicolas’s journal, tucking it beneath the bedsheets. “Go on ahead. I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” Angie said. “No hurry, girl. I’ll see you then.”

  As Jena hurriedly got dressed, she debated whether to tell Angie about the journal. While her brain scrambled to make a decision, the answer soon became obvious to her. She had to tell someone about it, and her best friend was someone she could trust without a doubt.

  Fifteen or so minutes later, as Jena neared the kitchen, she could hear chatter coming from inside. When she walked in, she was surprised to see the room filled to capacity. Even though the kitchen was spacious, with a table big enough to seat more than thirty people, the room seemed crowded, but there was a peaceful and soothing atmosphere to it all. The truth was, she felt welcome here, although she barely knew anyone except for her best friend.

  “Hey, girl,” Angie said, waving her over. “I saved you a seat.”

  As Jena sat down next to her, Tessa set a plate in front of her.

  “Help yourself, Jena,” Tessa said, supporting little Jem over her right hip. “I think there’s a combination of just about everything.” She lightly chuckled. “The guys got up early and cooked for us.”

  “Thank you,” Jena said as she looked over the platters of food. Everything smelled delicious even though she wasn’t very hungry.

  �
��You’re wel—” Tessa stopped short as Jax let out a high-pitched squeal and slipped out of his high chair. He took off, balancing himself on teeter-tottering legs.

  Tessa sighed. “Having twin boys is not easy. Soon, I’m going to have to get a pair of running shoes just to be able to keep up with them.”

  Jumping to attention, Jace scooped him up into his arms. “Come here, you little rascal,” he said, tickling his belly. Jax giggled and buried his little face in Daddy’s long hair.

  Jena watched as Tessa went over to them with little Jem in her arms and reached out to Jax, who in turn reached out to her with his tiny hand. His other one stayed with his daddy. It was as though the four of them were a united little family. The thought made Jena smile.

  While Jena filled her plate, she listened to everyone at the table as they laughed and engaged in conversation. When Jena settled back in her chair and began to eat, she noticed Bull—who was sitting on the opposite side of Angie—lean in and whisper something in her ear. Whatever he’d said must have been private, going by Angie’s reaction. She had that look on her face, the look you get when the person you care about says something that makes you feel a certain way. At that moment, Jena knew her friend was deeply head over heels for that man. And it was obvious Bull felt the same for her.

  “What are you grinning about?” Angie asked, noticing Jena staring at her and Bull.

  Jena turned away, pretending to focus on her plate. “Oh nothing,” she said around a little chuckle.

  “Uh-huh,” Angie remarked as she raised a brow. Then she leaned close to Jena and whispered, “If you only knew, girl. If you only knew.”

  Jena’s smile broadened as she turned to Angie and said quietly, “After breakfast, come up to my room. I want details, plus I’ve got something interesting I need to show you.”

  Angie looked at Jena with an inquisitive expression. “Something interesting, huh?” she kept her voice low. “Well, now you have my curiosity all stirred up. It’s nothing serious, is it?”

  Jena shrugged. “Nothing bad has happened, but it’s definitely interesting,” she whispered to her. “I wanted to share this with you before anyone else.”

  Angie nodded. “No problem. Whenever you’re done girl, just say the word.”

  After everyone finished eating, Jena and Angie helped clear the table. Moments later, they thanked all the men for the meal and headed upstairs to Jena’s room. As they went inside, Angie closed the door and said, “Okay, I’m dying to know. What’s this interesting thing you wanted to show me?”

  “It’s a secret journal,” Jena said, reaching into the nightstand to retrieve the old leather book and handled it as though it was something breakable.

  “A secret journal?”

  Jena gave Angie a tense smile as she gingerly extended the journal out to her. “It belongs to a Nicolas Ratcliff.”

  Angie took the journal from Jena and asked, “Where did you get it?”

  “The thing is,” Jena said slowly, “I don’t know where it came from.”

  Angie stared at the book in her hand and then focused her eyes back on Jena with a puzzled look on her face. “What do you mean you don’t know where it came from? Then how did you end up with it?”

  “Last night someone came into my room while I was in the bathroom and slipped it under the door.”

  “Someone was in your room?” Angie’s eyes rounded. “Shit, Jena. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Her tone was faintly chiding. “It could have been the creature. What were you thinking?”

  Jena stood there looking regretful. For the last few weeks, she’d been grief-stricken over everything that had happened since the night of the cemetery attack, and her recent weaknesses. She had tried over and over to erase all the horrible details and images inside her head. Just thinking about it brought her close to the edge of insanity. Once again, she wished she could go back in time.

  “I’m sorry, Ang.” Jena’s shrug was apologetic. “I didn’t feel like I was in any danger, and I’m sure it wasn’t the creature.”

  Angie sighed. “You are totally unbelievable, girl.”

  Jena shut her eyes for a second, then opened them again, her expression guilt-ridden. “You’re right. I should have told you sooner.”

  “You’re damn right you should have,” Angie shot back. “From now on, no more secrets okay?”

  Jena nodded. “I think the journal is linked to the creature.”

  “How do you know?” Angie queried. “Did the journal mention anything about it?”

  “I’ve only read a few of Nicolas’s recordings, but I did find out he is the creature’s brother. Nicolas seems to be telling the story of how the curse began. This dates back to the 1800s.”

  “But that’s impossible.” Angie shook her head, startled by Jena’s findings. “If he is the one that came into your room and left the journal, how can he still be alive? And how in the hell did he get past the Covenant’s security?”

  “I’m not sure how he managed to get past them undetected,” Jena said, shrugging her shoulders. “Maybe he has some kind of supernatural powers. I know one thing. Nicolas and his brother...” Jena paused for a second. She could feel a lump forming at the back of her throat. Saying the creature’s real name created a pins-and-needles reaction. Swallowing hard, she said, “Ashton... the creature’s real name is Ashton... and they are both immortal.”

  “Immortal?” Angie looked at Jena in bewilderment. “How?”

  “In 1817, Nicolas’s brother fell in love with a young girl named Isabella. Her father, who was a minister of a small Catholic church, would not allow her to be married until she turned eighteen. Three years later, when she became of age, Ashton asked her father for her hand in marriage. After Isabella’s father gave him permission, Ashton proposed to her. Although, a few weeks prior, she decided to move to England to join a women’s convent and turned down his proposal. As Nicolas tells the story,” Jena continued on, “his brother couldn’t get over Isabella’s refusal to become his wife and later killed himself. The day before Nicolas buried Ashton, something evil came to him that night. He called himself the Master and offered to bring his brother back from the dead.”

  Intrigued by what Jena was telling her, Angie said, “Well, did he do it?”

  “Going by what I have read so far, he did. That is how his brother Ashton became the creature. I guess the deal Nicolas made with this evil being had a hefty price.”

  “He sold their souls?”

  Jena slightly nodded. “I think so.”

  “Maybe this journal can help you, Jena. If indeed this Nicolas Ratcliff was the one that came into your room, there might be a reason why he wants you to read it.”

  “I think Nicolas wants my help,” Jena said.

  “To do what?”

  “Destroy the creature.”

  “But wouldn’t that be killing his own brother?”

  “Nicolas feels responsible for what Ashton has become,” Jena explained. “I don’t think he ever intended to bring harm to anyone. He was just grieving over his brother’s death. In order to stop all the killing, he knows something has to be done. Nicolas wants to set Ashton free, and if death is the outcome, I believe he’ll accept that.” Jena exhaled and went on, “And there’s something else that’s been bothering me. Something strange.”

  “What do you mean strange?”

  “For some reason, I feel like I know Nicolas,” Jena told her. “I get this strange feeling that I’ve met him before. I can actually feel his pain when he describes his brother’s death. It’s like I have these weird emotions I can’t explain.”

  “Like what kind of emotions? Are you talking about the same you feel for the creature?”

  “It’s hard to describe,” Jena said. “It’s a different feeling, like a strange closeness. As I read his journal, it’s almost as if I can feel his heartache.”

  “Maybe it has something to do with the binding spell his brother has on you.”

  “I don’t know. Ma
ybe.” Jena stared at the journal that was in Angie’s hand, seemingly distracted by what secrets it held and somehow connected to its owner. “I need to find out more.”

  “So, what are you waiting for?” Angie prompted. “You need to get reading, girl. The battle angels will be back at dusk.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Time is ticking. So, what about you and Bull?” Jena asked, changing the subject. “How’s that going?”

  Angie couldn’t help but crack a little smile. “Let’s just say everything is heading in the right direction. We’ll talk details another time. Right now, your situation is more important.”

  Sighing heavily, Jena said, “Should I tell the Covenant about the journal?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Angie offered the journal back to Jena. “I’ll take care of it while you get back to reading. Hopefully, there’s something in there that will be useful.”

  As Jena took the journal from Angie, she reached out to hug her. “Thanks, Ang. Thanks for always having my back.”

  “I’ll always be here for you. And remember,” Angie said, embracing Jena. “You hold all the power, Jena. You’re the only thing this creature wants, and you’re the only one who can destroy it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  As Detective Manuel Sanchez and his partner, Detective Frank Perkins, arrived at the observation room, they came upon a uniformed officer who stood guard outside the closed door.

  On the other side of the glass they could see Paul Reiss, the reporter from the Mercury News, pacing inside the small interview room. By the look on his face, it was obvious he wasn’t too thrilled about his current situation.

  The officer shook his head and said, “How did you manage to get this jerk to come down to the station?”

  “We didn’t,” Manuel replied. “We cuffed him and dragged his ass here.”

  “He’s been asking for his attorney,” the officer said. “About every five minutes.”

  Manuel looked at the officer with a smirk on his face and said, “He’ll get his phone call, right after I get some answers.”