THE IMMORTAL: A Novel of the Breedline series

by Shana Congrove

  Her lips quivered. “Y-you want me to give you... children?”

  Now he was grinning. “Yes, my beloved. You will provide me a strong bloodline.”

  “No, she’s not,” said a voice, laced with a southern accent.

  Startled, Ashton straightened and spun around on the balls of his feet, preparing to meet a familiar face. Although he recognized the voice, there was no one there.

  “Where are you?” Ashton called out as his eyes darted over the dark and fog-covered graveyard. “Show yourself...” He paused and snarled his upper lip. “...little brother.”

  Out of nowhere, a faint outline of a ghostly image appeared behind Jena. When it fully took on a corporeal shape, the figure leaned over Jena and draped a long shawl around her, blanketing her bareness. The moment she felt hands on her shoulders, blurred memories came rushing up in a torrent flood—memories of a man embracing a woman, touching her face intimately and softly, although she couldn’t make out their features.

  As Jena flinched and looked up, she was shell-shocked for a moment. The handsome face that stood above her took her by surprise. He looked at her as if some realization had dawned on him. Then, a strange sense of familiarity hung between them as though they had met before—perhaps many years ago in another life. She could definitely see the resemblance between him and Ashton. They had the same square jaw, an ageless pale complexion, and ink-black hair that fell past their shoulders.

  Jena’s face flushed, the color high in her cheeks, and Nicolas wondered if it was the vulnerability of her nakedness, or something else.

  She took a breath and exhaled slowly. “Nicolas?” she murmured, pulling at the shawl so that it covered more of her exposed skin.

  He gave her a comforting smile that seemingly eased her in some way, but his eyes looked tensed with worry.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, a growling voice cut him off. “Why have you been keeping all these secrets from me, Nicolas?”

  He lifted his head to meet Ashton’s menacing stare, realizing his brother was aware of the journal and his ability to vanish and reappear at will. “I’m sorry, Ash,” Nicolas said, his hands clenched at his sides and his eyes filled with regret. “I had no other choice. I can’t continue to let you do this.”

  “You had no other choice?” Ashton drawled. “Tell me, little brother...” He raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been planning all this...” He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “...betrayal?”

  Nicolas looked at him grimly. “That day you disappeared,” he told him, “after you confronted Isabella at the cemetery. When you returned, you were never the same.”

  Ashton gasped as if his brother had sucker-punched him and took an involuntary step back. “So, this is your plan?” He looked at Nicolas, his dark eyes shooting daggers. “To have my beloved do your dirty work?”

  “It’s the only way...” He slowly shook his head. “…and it’s the right thing to do.”

  “If she destroys me...” He grinned, his fangs shining like ivory pins. “…your life will end as well.”

  Nicolas nodded. “Whatever it takes to stop all this madness.”

  Ashton threw his head back and laughed. The short, sharp bark sent chills through Jena’s veins.

  “By now, you should know, Nicolas. Jena will not kill me.” He paused and narrowed his eyes at her. “She’s powerless in my presence.”

  A look of distress passed over Jena’s face. As if in anguish, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. She did not know if what all Ashton had said were entirely true. Was she indeed the daughter of Lucifer, born a Necromancer, and still under Ashton’s spell? Her heart wanted to believe in what the angels had told her.

  As silence fell between them, the only sounds that Jena heard were the trees blowing in the wind and her own blood pounding in her ears. Think Jena, think, she feverishly thought. How can I possibly defeat something that has such a strong hold on me? Jena wanted desperately to grab ahold of her inner strength and bring forth her creature once again. But struggling against Ashton’s binding spell was like struggling to breathe underwater.

  Jena took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked up at Nicolas.

  “You hold all the power, Jena.” She heard Nicolas—or was it Angie’s voice—whisper into her mind. She realized now what Angie had meant by her words. Jena had become a part of the Breedline family, and they had become hers. If she did not destroy the creature, she would lose them all. At that moment, something inside of her sparked with valor. Then she looked forward, her eyes glaring viciously at Ashton. “I hold all the power,” she said, her voice demanding and seemingly full of confidence.

  His eyes widened as if her words threatened him in some way, or was it that he was worried the spell had been broken.

  “That is not possible,” he said with a clear smirk in his voice. “Not possible—”

  Before anyone could get another word out, the sound of heavy footsteps moving at a high speed caught their attention. As they turned to look, Ashton was blindsided by something monstrous moving at the full speed of a freight train.

  As hundreds of pounds of raging fury drove Ashton to the ground, it was then that Jena realized who it was. She quickly got to her feet and screamed, “Angie, no!”

  Before Jena rushed forward, Nicolas instantly reached out and held her back. “No, Jena,” he warned her. And when she responded by trying to pull away, he looked at her intently and added, “Please, Jena.”

  The time it took Angie’s wolf to tackle Ashton, his transformation was already taking place. The power surge within him only took a matter of seconds, and he was the creature once more. Then, in a frenzy of snarling sounds, the battle between the Breedline wolf and the creature began again.

  Jena looked up at Nicolas, her eyes wide and glassy with tears. “She’s my best friend. I’ve got to do something,” she said, her voice pleading. “He’ll kill her.”

  Nicolas stared down at Jena, his eyes expressing concern. He gently grasped her hand and spoke to her in a soft voice, “Use your curse, Jena. Bring forth the creature within you.”

  It was hard to hear him over all the vicious sounds coming from the enormous creatures. They were biting and ripping at one another, destroying anything that got in their path.

  Nicolas raised his voice, and lightly squeezed her hand, “You can do this, Jena. It’s the only way.”

  Ashton had never fought a creature this big, this he determined as they scuffled and grappled on the damp ground among all the dead. Again, and again, he raked his sharp claws into the enormous wolf, maddening the four-legged animal, and then tearing into its thick layer of hide with all the strength he had in his powerful jaws.

  Although Ashton seemed to be overpowering Angie’s wolf, she would not give up the fight. With lightning reflexes, she used her body as a battering ram and pummeled into Ashton’s side, knocking him completely off balance. He crashed into a nearby gravestone, crumbling it to pieces before hitting the ground hard.

  Seizing the opportunity, the wolf crouched low and launched off the ground using its powerful hind legs. As it leaped into the air, Ashton braced himself against the ground and kicked at the Breedline with all his strength. The mighty blow instantly sent Angie’s wolf in reverse. With a yelp, she crashed to the ground and tumbled out of control.

  I have to help her, Jena thought. She struggled to bring forth the change, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing happened. Ashton’s binding spell was too strong. Jena felt helpless as she stood back and watched her best friend fight a losing battle. At that thought, her heart seemed to shrink inside her chest. It was then she wondered, could Breedline wolves die, or was it only silver that could kill them? If only she had made an effort to find out, had asked Angie.

  Ashton allowed the wolf no time to recover. He quickly got to his feet and pounced on the fallen enemy. It roared in pain and recoiled as Ashton began to use his razor-sharp claws to rip at the animal’s backside.

  No! Please, no
, Jena despairingly thought as she stood in horror, focused on the awful images transpiring right before her very eyes. She watched helplessly as Ashton repeatedly sliced his claws across her best friend’s hide with a ruthless vengeance.

  “Stop it!” Jena shouted at Ashton. “You’re killing her!”

  The murderous creature, on the other hand, was not at all fazed. Dripping in blood, he ignored Jena’s outbursts and took hold of the wolf’s throat. With a firm grip, he squeezed with all his strength.

  Jena prayed, despite everything, Ashton would show leniency, if only the smallest, and have mercy on Angie.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  When a distinctive scent mingled with the wind, it took Ashton by surprise. It was a scent like no other. The musky odor mixed with the smell of a wet dog infuriated him to no end. He snarled deep in his throat, sensing something big approaching from behind.

  The light of the full moon cast its enormous reflection on a headstone ahead. The shadow of the dark figure was nothing he had ever encountered before. What the hell? There was much he still didn’t know about the secret world of the Breedline, but he knew whatever had come here wasn’t of their kind. It was something else. Something much more lethal... more powerful.

  In the midst of his fury, he loosened his grip and released the Breedline wolf. The time it took him to look, something with sharp claws had grabbed him roughly by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off the ground.

  Ashton was shocked as he dangled in midair by the shear strength of the thing that had ahold of him. He barely caught a glimpse of the shaggy beast, its pelt as white as snow, before he found himself sailing across the graveyard, tossed like a flimsy, rag doll.

  Just as he was about to slam into a nearby crypt, the same one that held Debi captive, he instantly vanished, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of smoke.

  Angered by Ashton’s clever maneuver, the monstrous, white-haired beast reared back on his hind legs and let loose a deafening roar.

  It felt like time stood still as Jena stared in bewilderment, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. She could not take them off the malevolent beast standing only a few feet away. It stood on two legs, towering to the height of at least seven feet, covered with thick white fur, and the thing was visibly pissed. It was then she remembered what Angie had told her about Jace Chamberlain. He was the good-looking blond who was married to Tessa and had the twin brother—known as the Chosen Son—that could create a firebomb out of the palm of his hand. Although Jace was born a Breedline, he was also like her, something entirely other, and rage was its catalyst, invoking his internal beast.

  A sense of relief took hold as Jena averted her eyes from Jace’s beast and searched the shadows for Ashton to reappear. After a few seconds had passed, she suddenly came back to focus. Without thinking, Jena rushed to Angie’s side to see to her injures. The moment she reached out, a hand grasped her arm, claws piercing her bare skin. She gasped and whirled around to find herself facing Ashton’s venomous stare. She tried to pull free, but his grip was too strong.

  “You will come with me,” Ashton demanded.

  Instinctively, Jace’s beast dropped into a defensive stance, raising his razor-sharp claws, preparing to lunge forward. Before he could make a move, Nicolas shot over with incredible speed, so fast he was nearly a blur, and stood behind what was once his loving brother.

  With a watchful eye, the beast hung back and remained on guard.

  “You’ll have to go through me first.”

  At the sound of Nicolas’s voice, Ashton released his hold on Jena and spun around. “That,” he said in a tone that dripped with scorn, “can be arranged, little brother.”

  Nicolas stood firm as Ashton lashed out, reaching for his throat. Everything to Nicolas seemed to be moving in slow motion—the tips of his brother’s sharp claws aiming toward his jugular, and the snarling look on his wolfish face. It all mingled with Jena’s desperate screams.

  A distant memory from long ago suddenly flashed before Nicolas’s eyes: Isabella, falling to her knees at the sight of Ashton standing before her resurrected, and the horrified look on her face. In that split second, his hand automatically came up and grasped his brother’s wrist, squeezing it with an iron grip.

  Disbelief passed over Ashton’s hellish face, and he looked decidedly less sure of himself than he had before. Then his eyes went dark with rage, but his voice was numb. “How could you betray your own blood?”

  Tormented by his brother’s bitter words, mixed emotions warred within Nicolas’s chest. Although he could not deny that Ashton had savagely murdered for many years, taking the lives of countless innocent people, and yet, he could not be at fault for what he had become. He himself was responsible for Ashton’s fate.

  Nicolas stared in sorrow at his cursed brother, wrestling with his own conscience. “Please forgive me, brother.”

  “You’re no brother of mine,” he viciously said, his face stern and unforgiving as he unexpectedly exploded into action. He jerked his arm back, violently snapping Nicolas forward and slammed his head into his face.

  Jena screamed as Nicolas staggered on his feet and crumbled to his knees. Ashton lunged at him, claws out, and Nicolas went down hard, his head cracking against a gravestone, rendering him unconscious. Taking full advantage, Ashton slashed into Nicolas with a flurry of violent blows.

  “No!” Jena helplessly cried out.

  Still in his beast form, Jace sprang forward without hesitation. His roar offered Ashton only an instant’s warning before he even knew what hit him. With a single swipe of his arm, the beast delivered a powerful blow that sent Ashton tumbling backward. He disappeared in a cloud of dust as he smashed straight through the wall of a stone crypt.

  In the silence that followed, Jena searched anxiously for Ashton, but he was nowhere in sight. She hesitated, but only for a moment, and rushed over to Nicolas. When she knelt down, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Please, no, she dreadfully thought, smoothing a long strand of his hair back. You can’t die.

  “Please, Nicolas,” Jena said aloud, wiping at the blood on his face. “Don’t leave—”

  Without warning, a dark winged figure dropped from the sky. The sound of it landing startled Jena, compelling her to look up. Her eyes rounded as his bat-like wings unsheathed to their fullest and then snapped together as they tucked behind his back.

  His terrifying appearance would have brought Jena to her knees if she’d been standing. He had an aura of authority about him, radiating power of dominance over others. Was this devilish creature friend or foe? she thought, watching nervously as he came forward.

  A sudden flicker of hope swept through Jena when she noticed the winged visitor exchanging a look of understanding with Jace’s beast. If they had any misgivings about being in the presence of one another, she found no trace of it so far.

  “Speak your name,” he said, scowling at her.

  Although she tried to remain calm, her trembling voice betrayed her. “J-Jena. Jena McCain.”

  He blinked in surprise at the name. “Are you the one who is cursed?”

  Jena gaped up at him, seemingly uncertain how to respond. For all she knew, the bat-like creature standing before her was here to kill her. She shifted uneasily on her knees and scooted closer to Nicolas’s body. “Are you here...” She paused, swallowing the knot that had formed in the back of her throat. “...to kill me?”

  He regarded her with a skeptic stare. Then he arched a brow and said, “My name is Apollyon. We have come to help you kill the creature who has cursed you.”

  “We?” Jena asked, looking at Apollyon, confused.

  Just then, two women came out of the darkness and moved to stand on opposite sides of Apollyon. The one on his right had the physique of a bodybuilder, and although it was nighttime, she wore a pair of dark sunglasses. The line of her square jaw was set hard in the dim light. Her intimidating expression reminded Jena of a contract killer. She then wondered if the woman was an assa
ssin by day and a dominatrix by night, going by all the black leather she had on and the silver whip attached to her hip. The other woman seemed the opposite. She was feminine looking with long legs and had a conspicuously dark, mysterious presence about her. She almost seemed conceited by the way she stood and the smug expression on her face.

  Apollyon glanced to his right and said, “This is my sister, Electra.”

  She acknowledged Jena with a slight nod.

  As he started to introduce the long-legged woman on his left, she stepped forward and said, “Cut the chit-chat, brother. Let us get on with it.” She flipped her long hair back and smirked at Jena. “My name is Callisto,” she said, cocking a brow. “So, where is this creature?”

  Jena shook her head, and before she could answer, Ashton suddenly appeared like a ghost out of thin air. “Come and kill me if you think you can,” he growled, glaring at Apollyon and his fraternal twin sisters. Then, he glanced about the cemetery at Angie’s injured wolf and Jace’s beast. “You’ll have to do better than the dogs you sent.”

  “Stop this madness!” a female voice demanded.

  Ashton cut his eyes to the sound of the familiar voice. Striding from out of the shadows, with her dark wings tucked behind her back and her expression fierce, was the redheaded battle angel gifted with holy fire. Next to her, Drakon stared at Ashton behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and Kyle, who had a lit cigarette between his lips, cracked his knuckles. On the other side of Drakon stood Alexander with his lips formed into a straight line and his hands fisted at his sides.

  “I command you,” the angel raised her voice, “surrender now!”

  “Lailah,” Ashton said in a measured tone, narrowing his eyes as more precarious-looking strangers came forward and stood by the winged redhead. “Have you come to witness everyone’s death?”

  “Only yours,” Lailah shot back, reaching for the glimmering sword she had sheathed alongside her waist.

  A boiling rage poured over Ashton as he cruelly kicked at Nicolas’s unconscious body. “And what of my dear, little brother?”