The Daughter Trilogy Bundle

by C. M. Owens

  Oh no.

  How am I going to explain to her about my body not aging? Will I have to lose my best friend in order to shield her from the truth? I haven't even thought about this. My mom, dad, brother… everyone will notice that I'm still the twenty-five-year-old girl that never changes.

  Camara swallows hard, as if she sees the core of my inner turmoil. The fog outside lifts when I realize I still haven't released it. As soon as it does, I can see three men staring through the window at us.

  They're blocking traffic, and carelessly moving toward us without any regard for their safety as more cars screech to a halt to avoid plowing over them.

  "We have to go now," Camara prompts.

  "Now? We haven't even eaten," Clara says with confusion.

  My phone buzzes, and I pull it out as I stand to my feet. I motion for Clara to follow us, and she very warily does so. I don't even say anything before Deacon is blaring into my ear.

  "Get the hell out of there. Go the back way and turn right out of the exit. Don't go straight to the apartment. This could just be a fishing expedition," he warns.

  "Got it," I murmur with a slightly panicked edge.

  I take Clara's hand and throw sixty dollars on the table behind us. We weave through the people and finally emerge out the back door. Camara's eyes are glowing with a perfect pale blue as she controls the eyes of the animals around us.

  "They're coming in through the restaurant. We have to go now," she urges.

  "Who? What are you talking about? What's going on?" Clara insists.

  Deacon drops down from the ridiculously high building, and the sidewalk cracks under his feet as he lands beside of us. Clara screams at his brutally abrupt entrance.

  "I knew this was a bloody bad idea. We have to get out of here," he gripes.

  "Who is this guy?" Clara squeals.

  "This is Deacon. He's about to carry you, and he's going to be moving fast. Please stay quiet and calm," I coo.

  She swallows hard, realizing the intensity of the situation. Deacon scoops her up, and she lets out a startled gasp. Suddenly we're flashing through the streets of Manhattan, and Clara has her head buried in Deacon's neck to avoid the sharp, biting winds created from the high speed retreat.

  Each twist and turn Camara makes is abrupt but calculated. She can see exactly where they are.

  We come to a dead end, and Camara leaps on top of the building. Deacon and I follow suit. Clara's eyes are still closed tightly.

  Camara's eyes concentrate as she kneels to one knee. Clara almost cries when she finally opens her eyes.

  "Please tell me what's going on," she whimpers.

  I sigh out loudly as I try to think of a suitable explanation that's not going to completely freak her out, but the cracking of concrete behind us halts that attempt.

  I whip around to see an immortal, not a human. I can tell by his swirling, uninfected eyes.

  "Well, now. There you are," he says with an ominous smirk revealing itself.

  Camara's eyes widen. She had been looking for the three. They were just the decoys, and we fell for it.

  "What do you want?" Deacon blares.

  Clara steps behind Deacon and slumps against a wall. I can hear her heart pounding fiercely as she nears hyperventilation.

  What have I done? I have just brought Clara into the middle of our fight.

  The man is instantly joined by four others, and in a blink we've just been outnumbered in the immortal department.

  "Give me the girl tied to Cole, or suffer the consequences," the man demands.

  Camara steps up, and I see the wild growing restless in her eyes as her daring smirk appears.

  "I think we'll take our chances with the consequences," she says sardonically.

  The man smirks, but I can feel the power in me growing, mounting, and burning against me.

  "You will stop," my voice echoes.

  The men's eyes glare against me, and their heads bow in submission. It worked. I've enslaved them.

  "Who do you work for? What do you want?" I order.

  "We want you. We need Devin Cole, or one of the others Theia loves. Her son is the key to what she seeks. She won't stop until she has you," one answers with his intoxicated tone.

  "Who won't stop? What's her name?" I command.

  "The daughter of-"

  His throat slices in half mid-sentence as three women leap up to join the submissive men. One girl glares at me when she realizes what I've just done.

  "She's a fucking Aphrodite. That's how we lost the humans," she blares.

  "You can't control us, bitch," another boasts with premeditated hatred.

  Camara smiles at the new faces as the menacing excitement spreads on her lips.

  "Perfect. I love a good catfight," she hisses.

  I can't risk Clara's life with a fight. I smirk with menace as the men grab a hold of the women and force them to the ground with a violent crushing force. Camara pouts as the battle between the sexes sparks to life.

  "Go. We have to go now. I don't know how long I can keep them trapped," I urge.

  Deacon scoops Clara back up, and we jump from rooftop to rooftop. I whisper to Camara. "You're right. They're using the humans the way you use the animals."

  "We have to tell Devin. They didn't even know who or what you were," she exclaims.

  We take the elaborate labyrinth of detours to make it home without detection. Camara keeps eyes on anyone that might have eyes on us. Clara keeps crying as our hasty retreat frightens her even more than the supernatural encounter.

  We make it back to the apartment and I pull on her hand.

  "No. I'm going home. I don't know what the hell you're doing, but I don't want any part of it. Are you on drugs?" she blares through her tears.

  My eyes widen as so many look at us, but they're not the eyes of the possessed, just the curious.

  "You're coming in with me even if Deacon has to carry you," I warn.

  "I'll scream," she threatens.

  I pull her to the side. "Clara, I've been your best friend for twenty years. Please, hear me out. Trust me," I plead.

  She takes a deep breath and tightens her lips. She storms through the lobby to the elevator to show her silent, begrudged acceptation.

  We ride the elevator in silence, and Deacon steps out first once the doors open to the penthouse.

  "I have to call Devin," he grumbles.

  I swallow hard as he walks into the padded room. Clara turns to me with scolding but inquisitive eyes.

  "Are you part of some elaborate role playing game?" she snarks.

  I remember wondering the same thing about Devin once - my mind attempting to rationalize the irrational.

  "No," I mumble.

  "What is going on?" she insists.

  Camara walks over to take a seat, and she relieves me of the burden of explanation.

  "Adisia is part of our world," she says vaguely.

  "What world?" Clara scoffs.

  "The immortal world," Camara bluntly offers.

  "What? You're all fucking crazy," she blurts out.

  Then concern floods her eyes as she turns to me. "Adisia, this is a cult. They're trying to convince you that you're immortal. I've read about this crap before. They convince you that you can't die, and then you willingly drink poison or some shit. You have to get out of here," she whispers.

  This would almost be comical if it wasn't so dreadful.

  "We're not a cult. We're very much real, and immortality doesn't offer a life without the consequence of possible death. It only offers a life without the fragile mortality of your kind," Camara says softly.

  "What? How did you hear that?" Clara breathes in disbelief.

  "Show her who you really are, Adisia," Camara requests.

  Clara turns back to me expectantly with terrified eyes. I sigh loudly as I walk over to the window.

  I look her in the eye, and I can feel the wind starting to stir. My hands swirl with electricity spiraling around them. Clara
's eyes try to pop free from their sockets while her mouth does its best to slap the floor.

  "What the-"

  She stops short as the clouds overhead swirl across New York. The skies part and the rain drops instantly before I release the first warning crackle of thunder.

  "I'm a daughter of Aphrodite, along with a few other powerful things mixed in. I know this is crazy, but it's the truth. I never wanted you entangled in all of this," I murmur with guilt pouring from my tone.

  Her mouth flops open and shut, but all words evade her as she stares out at my gentle storm.

  "You’re doing this?" she gasps finally.

  "Yes. I can do a lot of freaky things. I'm so sorry, Clara," I whine.

  Her lips clap together and then fall apart as her mouth searches for the words she can't find again.

  "So, we've been friends for twenty years, and you never thought to mention this?" she finally squeaks out while keeping her eyes fixated on the large droplets of rain still falling.

  I release the storm from my grasp, and Camara walks away to join Deacon in the padded room. Though she can't see the green, my eyes turn back to blue as I sit down to explain everything as gently as I can.

  "I just recently found out. I never knew such a world existed."

  Her eyes tear up as she chokes on emotion.

  "Did he do this to you?"

  "No. I was born this way. I just never knew it. This is why Persia gave me up. She didn't want me to deal with my future until I had to," I mutter softly, holding back my own emotion.

  "Persia?" she inquires.

  "My birthmother. Recently, she came back to help me train this new… power."

  She takes a deep breath and sinks into the folds of the warm couch. I can almost hear her head thudding.

  "I… I… I don't even know what to say to be honest," she stammers. "And Devin? Is he a-?"

  I nod to the sentence she can't finish out loud.

  "Yes. He's an immortal too. Deacon and Camara as well. There are some people after me, and they're trying to use me against Devin. You need to go home and stay far away from me until we find out who it is," I choke out.

  Her eyes soften when she sees the struggle I'm enduring.

  "You're scared. I didn't even think of how you were feeling right now. This is so… Where the hell is Devin? How can he just leave you like this?" she barks.

  "He went to run down some leads. I was supposed to stay confined to the apartment. I'm sorry I put you at risk," I cry.

  She purses her lips, and then she warily stands to her feet. Her shoulders drop as she walks over to me and throws her arms out to embrace me in a much needed hug.

  "I don't understand all this crazy, but I'm here for you," she encourages.

  "I love you, Clara Whitman," I chuckle through my tears.

  She laughs a little. "I love you, Aphrodisia Titan."

  She leans back and tilts her head. "What's your real last name?"

  I smile lightly as I pull a picture from my purse. It holds the faces of my birthmother and father.

  “Krillan. Persia sent me this the other day. That's Kahl and that's her."

  Her eyes widen. "No wonder you're such a hottie. Your mom is super hot, and your dad is some kind of delicious. Where's he?"

  I frown slightly. "He died before I was born."

  "Oh. So immortals really aren't that immortal. Adisia, I'm scared for you," she confesses.

  "I'm scared for me too, but I've got Devin. He's pretty amazing, and I feel safe with him," I say reassuringly.

  She hugs me again, and I can feel the weight lifting from my shoulders.

  "Well, I need to get back home. Is it safe for me to leave?" Clara asks after our three hour conversation about my new life.

  "It should be," Camara says as her eyes light up to search the perimeter.

  "I'll walk her out," Deacon says quietly.

  He's been anything but humorous since his conversation with Devin. I still haven't heard the details of what Devin said, but I know he had to be pissed, given the pouting output from Deacon.

  "I'll talk to you soon. Next time, we'll eat in," Clara sardonically adds.

  "Okay." I giggle nervously.

  They disappear onto the elevator, and I pull out my phone to call Devin. It goes straight to voicemail.

  Wow. He's really pissed.

  "I wish I knew a way to show her my green eyes," I say while thinking aloud.

  "Impossible. Mortals can't see our immortal stirring," Camara says from her crouched position behind the bar.

  "I saw Devin's, so there has to be a way," I argue lightly.

  "There's a lot about your bond with Devin that we don't fully understand. No one has ever had a trigger outside of their immediate family before you. It changes the way you use your powers, and it strengthens them as well. It's pretty incredible, really," she murmurs while rising.

  "I'm not so sure he thinks it's incredible right now," I grumble.

  "Thirsty?" Camara asks while holding up a large bottle of vodka.

  "Very," I sigh.

  I walk over to the bar, and she pours both of us a straight glass. I guzzle the burning, clear liquid and set my glass down with an expectant stare.

  She chuckles a little as she pours another. I guzzle it down, and finally summon up the courage to speak through the wadded knots in my stomach.

  "What did Devin say?" I ask with a cringing face.

  She sighs loudly while shaking her head and guzzling her new glass. She pours us both a fresh batch before answering.

  "Oh, it would be easier to tell you the things he didn't say. I'm debating rejoining the wild before he gets back," she murmurs wearily.

  "That bad?" I ask apologetically.

  "Yes. That bad indeed. He's not too thrilled with Deacon either. On the bright side, we now know a little more about the ones chasing us. He couldn't deny that we needed that information. Deacon was quick to report it. It was enough to sidetrack Devin from his tirade."

  "Devin already assumed they were after Theia though," I interject.

  "Yes, but now we know for sure. We also know they're definitely controlling the humans as I do the animals, and we know that a woman is behind it. There're more sons than daughters. We can start the process of elimination, and begin sifting through the mingling of powers."

  "How can they're only be daughters or sons when we pair together?" I ask curiously.

  "It's just mandated for certain embodiments. Athena, Aries, Aphrodite, and a few select others. If two mandated immortals interlope, no children can be born."

  "Are you a mandated immortal?" I ask.

  "No. My kind is made up of both, but the way the guy said, 'the daughter of,' lets us know there was a mandated immortal behind this. There's a tone we use when speaking about specific heirs. You learn it after a while."

  "Who do you think it is?" I ask.

  "I don't know. It's too soon to start spouting off theories, but we can rule out any mandated male bloodlines, as well as any non-mandated female immortals. We know more today than we did yesterday,” she adds.

  That reminds me of what Clara had said earlier in the restaurant. This day had started out as a normal day with a normal relationship tiff between my mortal friend and her husband. It quickly turned into a clash with unknown immortals, and the world I lived in collided with the world I've been sucked into.

  "I need more," I say as I set my glass back down on the bar surface.

  "More it is," Camara responds with a smirk.

  I wake up and look at the clock. It's two o' clock in the morning, and I'm wide awake.

  Crap. I can't sleep.

  I'm so worried about what Devin's going to say when he gets home. He'll be here at noon. I'm just one twisted ball of nerves right now.

  I sit up and gasp when I see the silhouette propped against the window. I relax and tense up in a different way when I realize it's Devin.

  "Hey. You're home," I whisper.

  "Yeah," he says cooll
y.

  Whoa.

  He's not even going to turn around to see me. He's never been so mad at me.

  "I'm sorry. I just wanted a normal day with a friend," I whimper.

  He maintains his icy silence as he stares out the window with his hands tucked in his pockets. His bags are propped against the dresser, and his pockets have been emptied onto the table beside the bed.

  The once full scotch bottle sits empty on top of the dresser with a glass tracing the last bits of the strong liquor. He's been here a while, and somehow he has avoided waking me.

  "How long have you been back?" I ask curiously in an attempt to break through his glacial barrier.

  "A while," he answers vaguely.

  I sigh out in frustration.

  "Please talk to me," I plead.

  He continues his silent treatment, despite my begging. I stand up, and his long, button-up shirt tickles against my bare thighs. I've missed him so much that I've been sleeping in his shirts.

  The top three buttons are undone, exposing just enough skin to try to seduce him with.

  His breath hitches slightly as his peripheral catches a glimpse of my bedtime attire. I smile lightly as I run my hand up his arm, but he stays frozen.

  "Don't. Not right now, Adisia," he scolds.

  I almost cry. It's the first time he's ever rejected my touch. I don't stop though. I'm nothing if not relentless to mend this.

  "I said stop," he growls while forcing my hands away.

  He walks out of the room and heads to the bar. I follow him, and I can see the guestroom wide open and empty.

  "Camara and Deacon?" I ask softly.

  "They've gone," he replies with his iciness.

  "Oh. You didn't reprimand them too much, I hope," I murmur guiltily.

  "They left before I could. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, they were loading it."

  Drat. They've abandoned me, leaving me to deal with Mr. Pissed Off all by myself.

  "Oh," I grumble. "Devin, I just wanted to see Clara."

  That does the trick to break his short sentences. He explodes.

  "And you damn near got yourself and her killed. I've been stalking every contact I have in order to find a way to end this and keep you safe, and then you go willingly into the world of danger. You have no idea how pissed I am right now, and I don't think it's a good idea to continue this conversation at this moment," he fervently admonishes.