Five Immortal Hearts

by Savannah Rose

  “Slate, we will have company soon. The police are in the lobby and coming up the stairs. Took them long enough, don’t you think?”

  “They were delayed,” Slate said, his voice only half involved in communication, his full attention on Kane. “We’re just about done. He’s coming around.”

  “No rush at this point,” Ore said, and walked over to the laptops as well. Standing next to his brother Raw, Ore looked like a child. “The hallways and lobby will be stuffed with people most of the night. Might as well get comfortable. We’ll need some food. Possibly drink. Misty? Do you feel like wine, or something of that nature?”

  “Like maybe a bottle of whiskey and a lemon?” I asked.

  Ore turned to me with a devil-may-care grin, “Ever have honey old fashions?”

  “Um, no?” I ventured, and though it sounded exactly like the thing I shouldn’t indulge in right now, that look in his eye, said ‘come play with me’ with just the right amount of sparkle in them. “Might sound fun though.”

  Quinn laughed, “Oh, it is Misty. It is indeed.”

  I was sure I heard Slate say, “Not again.”

  When the police came to the door, it was Quinn who answered, and gave them the story of the evening. Ore answered for all others, including the waiters and food bringers.

  In the midst of the packed hallway, and walls decorated with bullet holes, a small party with trimmings was developed, and tables arrived laid with dishes. Service girls and young men who came in, often left with buttons undone and grins on their faces, promising to return as soon as they could manage.

  It took some focus, but I realized that it wasn’t the brothers who were rubbing against the girls and boys, but only the girls and boys rubbing with each other. They were entertainment.

  The brothers liked to watch, and encourage, and even enhance, but did not indulge themselves. The fray was never lurid either. Only buttons, and flirtatious hands lost their restraint, and smiles often sparkled laughter. It was, as Ore suggested, fun. Relaxing. I could even make an argument for life affirming.

  Music came from somewhere, and neighbors, those who didn’t bolt out of the hotel as soon as the police suggested they could, stopped by and most stayed. Couples remained with each other, single travelers grouped up together and were a bit more involved in the flirtatious mood set by the servers.

  No matter the vibration or the number of whiskey old fashions I allowed, the word immortal held the center of my mind, and my view of Kane turned from attraction to awe.

  What was it about that word, immortal?

  ***

  I woke in a cushioned chair beside Kane’s bed, who had regained his healthy color but continued to sleep during the party. What time I came in here and fell to sleep, I couldn’t recall, but Quinn was near me, waking me with my name.

  “Misty, we need to leave now,” he said, his voice an unwelcome intrusion into my exhausted and intoxicated leisure.

  “Alright, five more minutes,” I told him, and tried to curl up.

  “In the car my dear. You may sleep in the car,” he responded, and then arms gathered me up, and I was being carried out of the room.

  “You people sure don’t bother with things like personal space, do you?” I complained.

  “Oh, I love personal space,” Quinn mused.

  “Invading it, maybe.”

  “Invading, conquering, teasing, creating, all of it. Personal space is a public fun house.” His smile was like sunlight through the morning windows — too bright and annoying to look at.

  “I think you’re missing the point of its purpose.”

  “No, I’m not. I hit it dead center every time,” he bragged.

  He wasn’t making any sense now, and I decided to punish him for it. I’m a tall woman, with curves. I’m not light as a feather, and with my leg length, carrying me like he was took effort. I normally take pity on a guy who, in the heat of a romantic moment, sweeps me up in his arms to carry me across a threshold or into a Jacuzzi. I had no pity for this rude, dream destroying, personal space invading Spaniard. No pity at all.

  Wrapping my arms loosely around his neck I laid my head down on his shoulder and feinted to go back to sleep. Ten floors up, and then a walk across the long lobby to a car. That should teach him to behave.

  My sense was that he would tire by the time we were out of the room. Out in the hall I was certain he would be setting me down soon. At the elevator, when Raw said there were new threats coming up, and to take the stairs, I shifted to get ready for him to set me down.

  Quinn moved down the stairs, holding me cradled in his arms, with every sign of ease and grace. At the middle of the flight, he vaulted over the railing, with me still in his arms, landing in the middle of the flight below, and then vaulted over the railing again. This time I had the chance to suck in a breath, and yipe in surprise when we landed, and then vaulted over the side again. In seconds we were on the lowest flight and descending for the door, which he kicked open and moved into the lobby, his eyes hard and scanning the area as he crossed.

  When he saw Ore standing in the middle of the lobby area, calmly observing all that moved, Quinn relaxed across his shoulders, and further relaxed when he spotted Slate by the front door.

  Looking back over his shoulder, I saw the elevator open and Kane standing with Raw behind him. They walked without delay or hurry, across the lobby, Ore falling in behind them when they passed his position. The three of them, after Quinn’s little demonstration of strength in the stairwell, gave me a sense of sheer power, and strength beyond anyone’s ability to estimate by looking at them now. It was not even a case of subtlety; the signs were not there at all. There was nothing about the three of them, except for Raw’s size, which could prepare anyone for the response those three could level on any threatening force.

  In moments, I found myself sitting in the back of a limo-stretched Hummer. The existence of such a vehicle did all the wrong things to my Earth Day Loving soul. Abomination. Seriously! What kind of mileage could this thing get? Six, seven gallons a city block? Then Raw got into the driver’s seat, and I thought, what else could they use to cart him around? And calmed down a bit. Also, with all of us inside, it wasn’t much larger than body space required. There wasn’t a jacuzzi hanging off the back or anything of that nature.

  We left, Raw guiding the massive Hummer down through the streets and toward the highway with skill and ease.

  Kane sat beside me and took my hand. All the angst left my body and I leaned into his shoulder.

  Once on the freeway, Kane turned to me, his thumb now massaging my hand. “We have a deal for you. Interested?”

  “In listening? Sure,” I said, sitting up straighter and scanning the faces of the brothers, who were all paying attention now. Even Raw up in the front seat.

  Kane nodded. “We need to find C-Source. You do as well. What you do then, write a story or work something out between you, is up to you. But we need to find him, and get him off your back, and ours as well. It can’t be left like this. So far, nothings been done that can’t be worked out. That is going to change fast if we don’t act now.”

  I let that spin in my mind. “Alright.”

  “There is a tradition in our brotherhood. We call it the Time of Ages. During the period of an Age, one of us is our dominant leader. The others continue to have their say and their controls, but only one is the leader. Right now, that is me, for the next,” he looked at his watch, “twelve hours.”

  I thought about their precedence for understatement and subtle address. “So, shit hits the fan in twelve hours?” I asked.

  He smiled, though the others did not. “Not if you’ll help us out. With all that has gone on, this is all botched up and informal, but none of that takes away from the seriousness of the situation.”

  “Alright, spit it out then. What do you need from me?”

  He shifted in his seat. “Said without preamble it’s going to sound a bit medieval and crude.”

  Jeez, I
thought. “Any time now, would be nice. I’m a big girl.”

  “Um, yes,” he agreed. “Well, we need you to make a choice, between the five of us, for the coming age.”

  That sounded, easy. And not nearly worth the build-up. “And that means…?”

  “You consent to marry the one you choose.”

  Now that was closer. Choosing, should have a sense of commitment on the chooser for anything important. There should be a direct effect, a focus the human mind could wrap around. It was barbaric, and yes, even medieval of course, but if I was choosing for a country, their leader, then I should be the one sleeping with the bastard, and thus have a personal stake in my choice.

  Five sets of blue eyes were watching me closely. None of them made any jokes or flippant comments. Not even Quinn. I had Ore’s full attention. Then that word hit my brain again… Immortals.

  Five immortal princes, each of them attractive on a grand scale, each wealthy, powerful, and appealing.

  This was not a ploy for them to get a wife or to get into my panties. They were serious. This was serious. Something about this had ramifications that might reach around the world.

  “I um,” I began, and then adjusted myself, “I get the sense that I’m choosing in the dark for a much greater issue than who I’m going to sleep next to until I divorce or kill him. I feel like this has a wide ranging effect, and frankly I don’t know how I could possibly make that choice.” I turned to Kane, “I would’ve been your wife in a heartbeat, ten minutes ago. But if this is going to affect a lot of people I can’t just go with the one I want. I can’t just do that, knowing what I know about you, or your brothers. Something much deeper is going on here, right?”

  Kane nodded. “Well, at least we have the right woman.”

  I grinned, but then frowned.

  Kane looked to his brothers. “She has a point, and she’s right. So, I propose the hunt. Each of us will work with her, use our skills and expose our natures to her, while we hunt down C-Source.” He looked back to me. “That will give you a clear look at each of us. You’ll be able to see what we do, how we work, what our intentions are for this world. What do you think?”

  “So, I’ll hang out with each of you one at a time, track down a highly dangerous and protected power, work with a murderous Cartel, and then choose who best to rule the world after. If I’m still alive.”

  He thought about that, then smiled. “Exactly. Also, we’ll give you a million US into your account for the effort.”

  “US dollars?” I asked.

  “Five,” he suggested.

  “Why not ten?” I asked.

  “Why not? And a set of knives too.” He wasn’t smiling now. He was dead serious.

  Well, fuck me…

  Negotiation

  You know those Hollywood movies, where the heroine is told that there are monsters in the coal mine or aliens from space teaching at the high school, and she spends most of the movie saying things like, “but that’s impossible!”

  Yeah, that’s not me.

  I know the impossible happens. It happens every day. Like Audrey Hepburn said, the word itself is I M Possible. Hell, that’s why I became a reporter. I was tired of people getting away with stuff, heinous crimes, because the public believed it was impossible for them to commit those crimes. I was tired of watching land poisoned beyond use, because it was impossible for that to happen.

  In that light, all of my impossibles were negative events. Disasters, crimes, destruction, wars, terrorism. I exposed the impossible to the world, so we could get past that word, and start cleaning up the mess; healing wounds of the impossible. Now, I was in a car with five immortal brothers, being asked to choose one of them, and that time was of the essence.

  I was not that girl in the movie, the one they hired because she screams the best. I was the girl at her desk in her office, about to expose that powerful untouchable man for bouncing his niece on the wrong leg in his lap — and I was not only happy about it, I couldn’t wait to squash his ass.

  I accepted under two conditions. The first was that during our time together, each of them would give full disclosure. I wanted to know what I would be choosing for. The second turned out to be harder to reach agreement, but more important to me than any other; to be able to not choose.

  “If this is something as important as you are implying it to be, then I reserve the right to find each of you unwanted or unqualified. I don’t believe in birthrights which enslave others.”

  All of us argued, even Kane. Apparently, not having a choice in place could be devastating on a global level — at least, that’s how they acted. The only one who did not jump into the fray with me was Ore. He sat, looking at his hands, listening. Then he cleared his throat, and all of us shut up. It was weird. I just sat down, like he ordered me to.

  Ore looked up to me. “I agree, but only if you find a solid clear reason that each of us, separately, are unqualified. You must show evidence, and cause.”

  “Alright,” I said, doubtfully, “but who judges my evidence, and cause? You?”

  Ore looked to each of his brothers, who, from their expressions, were dumbfounded, and then said to me, “No, that would be improper. Inanna will hold that court.”

  “Inanna?” I asked.

  “It will be your title after the choosing. Until then, she is in power and her word is the law we must follow.”

  “Oh,” I said, learning two interesting tid-bits there. One, someone else was really in charge, and that would soon be me. It also presented a serious question: If I was choosing one of the five to rule, and currently Kane was the chosen brother, how the hell did Ore have that much power? Because, near as I could tell, Ore did what he wanted, when he wanted, and others did what he wanted as well. His word was law. Hell, his throat phlegm was law.

  Looking at the emotional state of the brotherhood, I decided it would be better to ask about this later, though my instincts told me it was the most important answer I could learn right now.

  Ore looked down at his hands again, and then said in a calm voice, “I believe Kane should continue. He has already paved the way for you Misty. We are heading down into Mexico now. You have an appointment to accompany Kane in the morning to a meeting between the Cartel, and one of the motorcycle clubs which performs distribution for them. They are having issues, and Kane is going to help the club with negotiation. You will be introduced. I believe you will do well to listen without listening, but Kane will give you instructions.”

  I nodded.

  “Next will be Slate, who is responsible for the politics. You will meet in Mexico City where you’ll be introduced to the Mexican President and his wife. After that, Raw will be of most use to you and for us. You’ll learn the position he plays in war. Then Quinn, the lord of religion, will likely solve most of the mystery for us. Finally you will come to me, lord of discovery, and we will return to Inanna as soon as our task is complete.”

  “Any ideas how long we’re talking here?” I asked, trying to sound polite.

  He thought for a moment. “Four weeks, six tops.”

  My original plan was to take another four months to accomplish what they were promising to do in less than half that time — plus possible stories from my encounters with the Cartel tomorrow and the Mexican President soon after? I have to say, I was pleased at the way this conversation was going.

  “There is a final matter,” Ore said.

  “Yes?”

  “I will leave it to you, to set the boundaries of engagement. However, significant interaction must be open to all in equal measure.”

  I translated that, to “In other words, if I jump into bed and happily accept sex with one of you, I’m bound to give a happy fuck to the rest as well.”

  Ore looked at me with calm blue eyes. “We are physical creatures, and such actions alter perception, emotion, beliefs, even reverence. As I said, I leave the boundaries to you. Decide as you wish.”

  I studied him. “No. No there is no free ride. My de
cision is that I am to be seduced. And just because one of you has the ability to do so, doesn’t warrant an automatic pass for the other four, who may be lacking in seductive skills. Seduction is communication. Communication is empathy. These are skills and traits of high value. I will commit to being open to seduction and if seduced remain open to the others, but only through seduction will I have sex with anyone.”

  Ore studied me, and then looked down at his hands in his lap. After a moment I wasn’t sure he was going to say anything more. But then he nodded. “Agreed and well put.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome. Let me say that I am grateful you took this so seriously. I feel much better right now than I did last night.”

  “Thank you again,” I said, and gave him a smile. It’s always nice to be taken seriously, and treated as if you are valued.

  Ride on

  The engine between our legs was rhythmic thunder. Sunglasses on, I leaned on the back-rest, and soaked up the mid-morning sun — hair flying out behind me like a banner.

  I’ve had a decent life experience with my chosen profession. Enough so that I’ve mixed with the powerful jet set crowds, been on private jets, lived in impossible to afford hotels, and resorts. I’ve even been a guest on a private island in the south Pacific — and what a paradise world that turned out to be. Most of this came about because of the quote, ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’, which a lot of rich white collar criminal types take to be sage advice. Maybe it is, when dealing with enemies who might be up to something or planning on doing something to you. With the Press though — not so much — because we don’t do things. We wait, and watch when you do things. The last place you want us to be when you do things is, close. But hey, they’re the experts, and I love the tan lines and fruit drinks.

  I’ve been in some hell-holes too. I chased stories to Afghanistan and several to Beirut. The story took me to the Philippines during the riots, and out to West Africa during the regime change. I have never ridden into a story on the back of a Harley, however. Until now.