Immortal Duty

by J. K. Coi

  He had seen her face—more particularly, he had seen her eyes.

  It was the eyes he’d noticed the first time they met. She had beautiful green eyes. But in his dreams they’d been different…they had been silvery Immortal eyes. Rhys hadn’t clued in. Not even once had he made the connection. Instead, he’d let a misguided belief that a woman could never be an Immortal blind him to what was coming.

  “Alric and Baron.” Rhys turned to the two of them, his mouth a hard, grim line. “You guys hit Doyle’s place and check it out. If you find anything that suggests something was specifically targeting Doyle—targeting Immortals—I want to know about it immediately. Two of our kind have been killed in a matter of weeks. That has me particularly annoyed, and I want to be able to kill something. Tonight.”

  He turned to the twins. “Roland and Kane, I assume I can count on you to probe your usual connections for information?” They nodded in tandem. “Go, then, but stay together and check in at regular intervals with updates to confirm your progress and position.”

  “What are you going to be doing?” Roland asked.

  Rhys sighed. “Someone’s got to go and collect our new Immortal.”

  * * * * *

  Gideon waited for Amy outside the hospital. He hadn’t told her he was coming to pick her up, but after her run-in with those muggers, Gideon didn’t like her walking home, and he knew her car was in the shop again. She was a tough cookie but she was also the only family he had left, and if anything ever happened to her he’d be done—toast.

  “Dr. Bennett!” Amy looked back to see who was calling and Gideon groaned at the sight of Dr. Celia Barnes rushing to catch up.

  Dr. Barnes was a busy heart surgeon and a single mother. To top it off her kid had leukemia, which took a lot of her extra time and energy. She and Amy were close friends, so Amy sometimes covered for her so Celia could be with her son when he needed treatments.

  Gideon waited on his motorcycle while the two women chatted. Amy glanced over and gave him a withering look. He grinned, knowing he was going to get a lecture about how she could take care of herself and didn’t need a babysitter.

  “Ooh, Amy, is that your hunky brother?” he heard Celia ask. The woman dug out a compact from large her purse and checked her makeup.

  Gideon groaned silently. Maybe he should just let Amy walk home.

  “Yes, but Celia, I wouldn’t get any ideas.” Amy’s tone sounded suspiciously like a warning. She had obviously forgotten that he had spectacular hearing. “Gideon’s more the love ‘em and leave ‘em type than the kind to pick out matching bath towels.”

  That was definitely a crack. Maybe Amy did know that he could hear what they were saying.

  “That’s okay,” Celia replied. Gideon purposely turned his head away, pretending he couldn’t hear what they were saying even though they were now only a few feet away. “I could deal with the leavin’ part as long as the lovin’ part came first.”

  Gideon coughed. He glared at his sister as the two women stopped in front of him. Except for a sly wink, she pretended ignorance.

  He remembered the time one of the lab techs had brought in a box of donuts. By ten o’clock that morning, there had been five research scientists standing over a table looking down at the solitary chocolate Danish that had been left in the pink box. The way Celia was looking at him now and biting her lip made him feel uncomfortably like that chocolate Danish.

  Amy and her friend tried to include him in a brief conversation during which Celia hinted three times that her parents were watching her kid tomorrow night and she hadn’t yet made any plans. He got the distinct impression he was being subtly invited to jump her bones.

  Gideon was definitely ready to go. “Ahem.” He pulled on his motorcycle gloves and handed his helmet to Amy. Ushering her up onto the bike behind him, he shoved a helmet roughly over her face.

  “Hey!” Her voice was muffled by the visor.

  “It was…uh, nice talking to you, Celia. Sorry, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.” Gideon gunned the motor as soon as Amy swung her leg over the seat behind him. She reached around his waist and he sped out of the lot before the desperate woman could shoot another salacious invitation at him.

  Amy waved goodbye to her friend. Gideon could feel her chest heaving against him as she laughed hysterically behind the black bike helmet.

  “That wasn’t very nice of you, you know,” she yelled over his shoulder as they flew down the street. “Celia will be devastated that you didn’t accept her invitation.”

  “She’ll get over it,” he replied with a shudder.

  Amy was laughing so hard she almost unbalanced the bike. Gideon threw a glare at her over his shoulder, but only succeeded in making her laugh at him even more.

  When they got to Amy’s apartment, Gideon was surprised to find a strange man—a very large, grim-looking man—standing outside of her building. He was presumably waiting for Amy, as she seemed to know who he was.

  “Rhys,” she called with a smile as she and Gideon went up the walk. “I didn’t expect to see you until much later.”

  Gideon looked from Amy to the stranger. His sister had never mentioned anyone by the name of Rhys. Amy caught him giving the behemoth the once-over and rolled her eyes. Then she gave him a not-so-subtle nudge in the arm.

  “So…I guess…introductions, then,” Amy said. “Rhys, this is Gideon, my brother. Gideon, meet Rhys.” Amy paused as the two continued to stare at each other without saying anything.

  “Given the sudden and unmistakable odor of Neanderthal machismo in the air,” she said with a groan, “I suggest we at least get through the front door before you guys start playing He-Man, okay?” Amy started to make her way up the stairs.

  So who the hell was Rhys? Why hadn’t Amy told him that she’d started seeing someone new? Was there a reason? They’d never kept things from each other before.

  It must be because she’d correctly assumed he wouldn’t like the guy. But gee, what wasn’t to like? Dude looked like a mobster hit man with a vampire complex, dressed all in black with leather shit-kickers and sunglasses.

  Who wore dark Ray-Bans at midnight, for Christ’s sake? And was that bulge under his coat a fucking gun? For real?

  Since when had his sister lost her ever-loving mind? Oh man, where the hell had she even met a guy like this?

  Rhys took a good look at Amy’s brother. He had her dark brown hair. His eyes were a smoky green…just like hers. They were the same height, had the same square, stubborn chin and slightly pointed nose. And that air of competency about each of them, as if they were ready and willing to take on the world, was the same.

  Shit. Things were making a lot more sense all of a sudden.

  Gideon and Amy are twins.

  As soon as they shut the door behind them inside Amy’s apartment, Gideon started in on his sister.

  “Okay, just who the hell is this guy, Amy?” he demanded of her. “And don’t tell me you went and dumped Neil so you could live out some gangster fantasy with this thick-necked thug.”

  Rhys might have taken exception to the “thick-necked” part of that comment, but since the “thug” part was actually pretty accurate, he decided to let it pass—they would both have more to get pissed off at him about in a few minutes anyway.

  “Gideon,” Amy was saying, “since when do you get to choose who I see anyway? You always think you should control my life just because you’re all of a few minutes older. That may have worked when we were younger, but let’s get real here. I’m twenty-nine years old and I won’t have you trying to tell me who to sleep with.”

  “You’re sleeping with him?”

  “Kids…do you want to cool it for just a second?” Rhys interrupted. “I’m not really here for a sneak peek into your Leave it to Beaver episode.”

  Both Amy and Gideon stopped mid-sentence to give him an eerily identical look. “Butt out,” both of them replied, an echo of each other.

  Whoa. Okay then.

  �
�Amy,” he said. “We need to talk—”

  Amy shook her head and winced. “Sorry. I don’t know if you already know this from experience, but brothers tend to be overprotective, pompous and domineering… Oh wait, apparently so are mysterious leather-loving one night stands.”

  Her brother didn’t rise to the bait. He figured that was probably a good move for him too.

  “So why are you here?” she asked Rhys. “Not that I didn’t want to see you, but I had the impression when you left this morning that—”

  “This morning?” Gideon’s lip curled. “Jesus, Amy. That’s it. I’m out of here.” He started muttering grouchily under his breath and headed for the door.

  Rhys grabbed his forearm and pulled him back. “Stay here,” he said, “I need to talk to you too.”

  Gideon jerked his arm from Rhys’ grasp. “What the hell for? You’re not really going to ask my permission to screw my sister?”

  “Gideon!” Amy’s mouth hung open and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “Watch how you talk to her,” Rhys said in a hard voice. “You may be her brother but I’ll still break your legs if you disrespect her again.”

  “Oh, wonderful. Just fucking great. Amy, this is the kind of guy you want to be with?”

  “Enough,” she said loudly. “I’ve had it with the overwhelming display of male arrogance coming from the both of you. I want you to leave my apartment. Now, before you start breaking my furniture—or I start breaking it over your heads.” She ushered them to the door with both arms spread wide.

  “Come back tomorrow if you two yetis can manage to be civilized for more than ten seconds and quit acting like Alpha wolves fighting for leadership of the pack.”

  Rhys stopped before she could push him out the door. “No,” he told her firmly. “Either I stay or you’re coming with me. You’re not staying here alone tonight.”

  “I can’t believe you’re back to trying to push me around. I thought we talked about this.” She sounded hurt, but he couldn’t afford to let that sway him—not with his dreams of her battered body still fresh in his mind.

  “It isn’t safe for you here right now,” he said.

  “I’ve been alone here every night for many years now, and it hasn’t killed me so far. Besides, didn’t I tell you to stop with the bodyguard routine?”

  “This isn’t about that. It’s different. You’re going to need me tonight.”

  “Oh Jesus, just listen to lover boy over here,” Gideon interjected mockingly.

  “Shut up,” Rhys told him. “This involves you too.”

  “Like hell. You can bet your fucking ass that I don’t need you tonight.”

  “Stop. Listen to me now, both of you.” Rhys’ voice rose, and he paused, heaving a heavy sigh of impatience. “You both had dreams last night, didn’t you? Dreams that seemed very real. Hell, I would bet you probably even shared the same dream. Amy, you told me about yours, remember?”

  Amy nodded and looked to Gideon, who gazed back at her with an identical look of confusion.

  “Just what are you trying to pull here?” Gideon started toward Rhys, his expression turning to one of angry impatience. “I don’t know what your game is, buddy, or what you’re doing to my sister, but I want you to stay away from her. So start moving toward the door, because otherwise I’m going to throw you out of it.”

  “You can try, if you want to waste your time,” Rhys replied with a hard look. He sensed Amy’s tension level jacking up and backed down with a sigh. “Look, this is going to be hard enough without having to deal with attitude from you. So why don’t I just say what I need to say and you can get back to your protective brother routine later if you still want to.”

  Gideon opened his mouth, probably intending to spout off some smart-ass comeback, but Amy raised her hand to stop him. “No, Gideon. Shut up for a minute. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Gideon closed his mouth but Rhys didn’t hold his breath that the truce would last. He gave the brother one final warning look, then focused on Amy.

  A woman had never before been chosen to go through the transition to Immortality. He was worried about her, about what something like this was going to do to her. It was a dangerous and painful ordeal as a general rule. But what if she experienced other side-effects, things he couldn’t prepare her for because they didn’t affect men?

  And that was just the beginning. If Amy actually came through the change alive, nothing would ever be the same for her. She could never live a normal life, could never have the kind of career she’d planned for herself.

  She would never have children.

  Was she really going to train and fight demons like the rest of them? He couldn’t imagine it. He didn’t want to think about how long it would take before she was dead, just like everyone else he’d ever cared about. A year? Two? Visions from his dream hovered on the edges of his concentration like a maddening buzz that was quickly driving him crazy.

  “The dreams you two had last night weren’t really what they seemed. They were more like memories—memories being passed on to you by someone else.”

  “Okay…” Gideon said. “So this is where you say that for fifty bucks you’ll show me my past lives?”

  “Gideon,” Amy snapped at him through gritted teeth. “I said. Shut. Up. What part of that wasn’t your feeble male brain able to process?”

  “Fine. Fine. Don’t mind me. I’m only the sane twin,” he grumbled sullenly. “I’ll just be over here keeping my mouth shut, not saying anything. Especially not saying that your convict boyfriend is a fucking loon.”

  Rhys swallowed his frustration. He understood the other man’s defensiveness. Long ago, he’d heard a similar speech from a stranger and hadn’t believed a word of it either.

  “The person in your dream was a colleague of mine. His name was Doyle and he died last night.”

  Amy’s gaze narrowed. She was too perceptive. She’d caught on to the guilt that was eating him and probably thought that he blamed Doyle’s death on the fact that he had been here with her instead of helping the other Immortal, which of course was true. If he’d been doing his job, Doyle wouldn’t be dead right now and Amy wouldn’t be facing the upcoming ordeal.

  “The bottom line is,” he continued, “tonight those visions are going to keep coming. But with a special added bonus. Doyle was part of a world that very few humans know anything about, but which both of you are apparently destined to become intimately familiar with.”

  Amy started at the word “human”. She realized Rhys had done that a few times—talked as if humans were a species separate from himself. She recalled the night they’d met and a wary, apprehensive feeling started to grow low in her gut.

  “Doyle was an Immortal,” he said, looking right at her, silently asking for her understanding. Amy held her breath, not sure she wanted to hear what was coming next.

  “Like I am.”

  He flinched when she groaned, but what did he really expect her to do? Smile and nod?

  “Doyle’s life force was altered a long time ago. He became an Immortal warrior and spent centuries fighting a secret battle that’s lasted almost as long as humanity itself. With his death, all his power and immortality must be passed on. The one who is chosen must take his place and continue the fight.”

  “What kind of fight are we talking about here?” Amy dreaded asking. She had an uncomfortable feeling based on the circumstances of their first meeting that she already knew what he was going to say. But she couldn’t keep the words from popping out of her mouth.

  Rhys’ gaze was rueful. “You saw what we fight, Amy,” he answered gently. “Demons. Escapees from the hell dimensions. They come here to feed off human souls, and it’s our job to make sure they get sent back to their prison, or they wouldn’t hesitate to destroy humanity.”

  Amy suddenly understood all the reasons why Rhys tried to avoid getting involved with her. If he actually believed the things he was saying, his life must be a very solitary one.


  She hated to think what it must be like. Eternal combat against the most horrific creatures imaginable. The lengths he went to in order to protect the people living happily in their oblivion. He would also have to make sure his war didn’t spill over into the streets. If too many citizens realized exactly what was out there stalking them, there would be mass panic.

  She wondered just how many years Rhys had spent alone, refusing to let anyone get too close.

  If she hadn’t still had Gideon when their parents died, she didn’t know where her depression would have taken her. As it was, Amy had lived a guarded, cautious life, holding everyone else at a distance, afraid that letting them into her heart would inevitably mean she would have it ripped out again when they left.

  She could relate to at least some of what he was talking about. Obviously, the rest was more problematic.

  “Kane and Roland Laveile are like you, aren’t they?” Gideon stepped forward, suddenly looking fascinated by the discussion where before he’d only been interested in throwing Rhys out her front door.

  Amy knew Kane and Roland were Gideon’s bosses at the lab, and of course she knew they kept their organization locked up tighter than a Christian father did his sixteen-year-old virgin daughter on prom night, but why did that make them “Immortal”?

  “As much as I hate to admit it, some of these outrageous claims make sense. Amy, your scary-ass boyfriend all of a sudden doesn’t seem as crazy-psychotic as I first thought. He’s definitely still an asshole, though.”

  “What do you know about Kane and Roland?” Rhys looked just as surprised as Amy. Gideon nodded—apparently Rhys had just confirmed his suspicions.

  “I work for them. They came to me a while ago, asking me to oversee a top-secret project involving some DNA tests and samples that looked pretty out of the ordinary. Since then, the medical evidence that I’ve reviewed…well, it just seems to fit what you’re saying. That and some other things I’ve noticed about them made me wonder.” He stepped forward and crossed his arms.

  “Office gossip says the twins have been running the company for about fifteen years, but I stumbled across classified documentation suggesting that about sixty years ago the company was being run by a pair of twin brothers who also went by the names Kane and Roland. Not to mention, I’ve been at the company for eight years now, and the two of them still look exactly the same as the day I started—about as old as a couple of college kids. So, ridiculous as all this sounds, it does make some sense.”