Dark Choices: Paradigm Shift (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Series Book 42)

by I. T. Lucas

  With Amanda’s help, he’d made good progress in some areas, but the road to full recovery was a long one. Undoing 800 years of shitty life experience in the Brotherhood couldn’t be achieved overnight, over a year, or even over a decade.

  Dalhu wasn’t in a hurry. He had his entire immortal life ahead of him to rebuild who he was from the inside out.

  Except for the occasional slips into the dark vortex of his past, he was living a dream and thanking the Fates daily for his good fortune.

  After unloading his equipment in the studio, Dalhu washed his hands and his face in the adjacent bathroom before heading to the master bathroom.

  Should he join Amanda in their jacuzzi tub?

  It was tempting, but perhaps she’d had a difficult day at work and needed time alone to unwind. That could be the source of the crackling energy in the air.

  Amanda rarely got mad, but when she did, it was on the same grand scale as everything else she did.

  Had someone annoyed her at work? Professors were a highly competitive bunch and far from scrupulous. Backstabbing and stealing ideas from one another were not common, but occasionally it happened.

  That would explain why Amanda was taking a relaxing bath before dinner on a weekday. Usually, she did that before going to bed, and occasionally during the daytime on weekends.

  Dalhu froze. Was it possible that he’d gotten so absorbed in his art that he hadn’t realized it was Saturday?

  When working seven days a week, twelve to sixteen hours a day, time blurred, and he often didn’t know what day of the week it was.

  Except, calling what he did work was the wrong term. He was creating, and the money he made from selling his art was a bonus, not the main impetus driving him to create more. Even if he were giving away his paintings and illustrations for free, he would have still produced at the same rate. The burning need to create, to improve his art, didn’t let up no matter how many hours he put into it. That was why he hated it when Amanda dragged him to social events.

  Dalhu would have much rather spent those hours painting.

  He was well aware that it was also a form of escape, giving him a great excuse to stay out of the social pressure cooker of the village. He didn’t have to interact with people, and yet no one held it against him.

  An artist was allowed his idiosyncrasies.

  Dalhu snorted. Calling himself an artist still made him feel like a fraud. He was just a guy who drew and painted. He wasn’t an artist.

  A glance at his watch reassured him that it was indeed Wednesday, not Saturday, and that he hadn’t lost track of time.

  Going into the master bedroom, he felt the charge in the air intensify, and as he opened the bathroom door, he felt like he was entering a very localized storm.

  Except, Amanda looked serene as an angel. Most of her gorgeous body was submerged under a mountain of bubbles, her head was resting on an inflatable pillow, and her eyes were closed.

  But she wasn’t sleeping.

  That seemed like an invitation.

  Whipping his shirt over his head, he kicked his shoes off, and then dropped his pants and boxer shorts.

  “Would you mind if I join you?” He slid behind Amanda and then pulled her against his chest. “What’s the occasion? You usually take a bath before bed.”

  “How do you feel about living in the sanctuary?”

  That was an odd question. “What would I do there? Paint the snow?”

  “It can be quite beautiful.”

  “I like vibrant colors. White is boring.” He smoothed his hands over her arms and dipped his head to kiss her neck. “Why do you ask?”

  Even if Amanda wanted to visit her mother in the sanctuary, she would have to wait for Annani to return from visiting Sari in Scotland. Except, she’d said living, not visiting. What was this all about?

  “I’m pregnant.”

  His hands on her arms stilled, but his heart leaped. “What?”

  “You heard me. We are going to have a baby.”

  A child would make him the happiest man on earth, but he was well aware of how terrified Amanda was of becoming a mother once again.

  Suddenly, Alaska made perfect sense. Amanda wanted to ensure their child's safety, and the safest place she could think of was the sanctuary.

  He would do anything to make it easier on her, but the problem was that she would hate it there even more than he would. Amanda loved her work at the university, and she loved the village community. It wasn’t big, but it was much bigger than the one in the sanctuary.

  “Nothing would make me happier, but are you okay with that?”

  “I’m not sure. I talked with my mother, and we both agreed that her place is the safest. If we have a girl, our stay there will not be long, a year or two at the most But if it’s a boy, it will mean thirteen years of snowy vistas for you.” As she turned around in his arms and looked up at him, her eyes were wide with fear. “I can’t do it any other way, Dalhu. I’m sorry.”

  He cupped her cheeks and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Don’t be. A child is a miracle, and any sacrifice we have to make in order for her or him to be safe is worth it. Thirteen years is not a long time in an immortal’s life. We will find a way to make it work up there. I can paint from photographs, like I did in the beginning, and you can continue your research remotely. You don’t need to be in the lab for the tests to continue. Teaching would be the only thing you’d be giving up. On second thought, you could even do that. You could create an online neuroscience course.”

  As tears slid down Amanda’s cheeks, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. “I love you so much. Thank you for being so supportive.”

  He sighed. “I’m the one who needs to thank you. I love you more than life itself, and I’m going to love our child just as much. You must know that I’d walk to the ends of the earth and back for both of you.”

  “I know. And that’s why I love you.” She lifted her head and smiled. “Well, I also love your magnificent body, and a thousand and one other things. But your love for me tops it all.”

  12

  Roberts

  As the house phone rang for the third time during his dinner, Roberts wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll get that.” He pushed away from the table.

  “Thank you.” His wife’s smile was grateful. “I don’t know how to activate that do not call feature to stop these telemarketers. But maybe it’s one of the kids this time, so before you bark at whoever is calling, check who it is.”

  Fat chance. Their children only called on holidays, birthdays, and when they needed something, like a co-signer for a loan.

  It was those damn telemarketers, and they had already disturbed his dinner twice this evening. Dora had been too polite to tell them to take the number off their calling list, but he would make sure they never called his number again.

  The question was, how had they gotten his unlisted number in the first place? Dora must have entered it on one of her online orders again. He’d told her a thousand times not to use the home number, but she kept forgetting.

  Snatching the phone off the cradle, he barked, “Who is it?”

  “Hello, Mr. Roberts. This is Calvin from Generpro. Has your family’s quality of life been impacted by the frequent power outages in your neighborhood? Our standby generators switch on the moment power is out.”

  As a sense of unnatural calm washed over him, he pulled out a barstool and sat down. Something in the guy’s voice made him sound like a good friend, like someone whom Roberts wanted to talk to.

  “Who is it?” Dora asked.

  Roberts turned to his wife. “It’s a telemarketer from Generpro.”

  “Oh, good. With all those damn power outages, we need a standby generator.”

  The telemarketer continued his pitch, “Owning a Generpro standby generator provides thousands of homeowners like you with on-demand reliable power. If you schedule an appointment with one of our representatives today, I can offer you a twenty
percent discount on the installation and three years of free service.”

  “Perhaps some other time.” Roberts ended the call.

  That was odd. He’d wanted to schedule the appointment, but something compelled him to end the call.

  Dora glared at him. “Why did you hang up on him? I told you we needed it.”

  “We should do some research first. Those big whole-house generators are expensive, and I don’t want to hire the first Joe Schmo who calls.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as if he had the speech prepared and rehearsed, and it didn’t end there. “I’m in the mood for a beer.” He grabbed his car keys off the hook. “I’m going to the supermarket. Do you need me to get anything for you?”

  His wife regarded him with a raised brow. “Since when do you drink beer after dinner?”

  “Since today. Do you need me to get anything or not?”

  Dora sighed. “Ever since Edgar’s death, you’ve been acting strange, and it’s understandable. You two were friends for many years, and you must miss him terribly. But you refuse to talk about it, and that’s not healthy, Elijah. You need to let yourself grieve. Perhaps you should talk to a therapist?”

  “I’m fine, Dora. Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself. Get a five-pound bag of potatoes and a box of laundry detergent.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I can’t think of anything else.”

  “I won’t be long.” He patted his pocket before heading out.

  That was another strange thing he’d been doing lately. He was carrying around the list of potential new paranormal talents that the system was flagging and adding names to it as they came in. Most would prove to be duds, and he would be lucky if one of them had actual talent, but why the hell was he taking the list home with him each day?

  It wasn’t as if he wanted to make additional background checks after hours. Dora didn’t like it when he brought work home. Hell, he didn’t bother doing that during office hours either. He had others do that for him.

  The supermarket was a ten-minute drive from his house, and as he entered, Roberts headed straight for the beer aisle. He was in the mood for Blue Moon for some reason.

  A young man approached him. “Excuse me. A good friend of yours needs to talk to you.” He handed Roberts a phone.

  As if in a daze, he took the device and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Good evening, Elijah,” a familiar voice said. “Do you have the list with you?”

  Roberts patted his pocket. “Yes.”

  “Excellent. Hand it over to my associate.”

  “Yes.” Roberts pulled out the folded piece of paper and gave it to the guy who’d handed him the phone.

  “Is it done?” asked the man on the phone.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you fire Marisol?”

  “I did.”

  “Do you know what she’s up to?”

  “Probably planning my assassination.” For some reason, Roberts felt compelled to tell the truth, even that which he hadn’t admitted to himself before.

  His fear of the crazy bitch wasn’t pure paranoia. With her ability, she could have been making millions on the stock market or selling whatever to whoever. Marisol had most likely joined the program only because Simmons had promised her that she would head it after he retired, and she was power-hungry. Having her dreams and aspirations crushed might push her over the edge.

  “Don’t worry, Elijah, we are keeping an eye on you, and we won’t let anything happen to you and yours.”

  He believed it. “Thank you.” Whoever the guy was, he was a valuable friend. Besides, he needed Roberts to keep supplying lists of potential paranormal talents.

  Where had he met him? And how come he didn’t remember agreeing to the exchange?

  There were several options. Head trauma, hypnosis, or compulsion. Was the guy on the other side of the phone like Marisol?

  A cold shiver rocked Roberts from head to toe.

  His worst fear was losing control of his mental faculties, and that was precisely what compulsion did. He was no longer the master of his actions. His free will had been taken away from him.

  The thing was, he still felt like the guy was his friend. Was that part of the compulsion as well?

  The man continued in his cultured, friendly tone. “I assume that you had her remove the compulsion from the trainees before firing her?”

  “I did.”

  “Good. What about the drug tests?”

  “The minors no longer participate. The adults do, but with their full consent. Did you compel me to do all those things? I don’t remember anything.”

  “That’s how it should be. After handing the phone back to my friend, you will forget him, this conversation, and the list you gave him. You will put a case of beer in your cart and continue shopping.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hand him the phone, Elijah.”

  As Roberts obeyed the command, he looked at the young man standing too close to him and invading his personal space. “Can I help you?”

  “I was about to help you. Here is your beer, sir.” The guy pulled out a case of Blue Moon from the fridge and put it in Elijah’s cart. “Have a nice rest of your evening.”

  “Thank you.”

  13

  Syssi

  Syssi could barely stifle her excitement, but she’d promised Amanda not to tell Kian about the pregnancy, and she only had to keep it bottled up for a little while longer. Amanda and Dalhu were coming over for dinner tonight, and they would tell him in person.

  “What’s the occasion?” Kian asked. “It’s not the anniversary of the kidnapping, and it’s also not the anniversary of Dalhu’s trial.” He turned to Syssi with a panicked expression on his face. “Did I forget one of ours?”

  “No, my love.” She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s just a family dinner.”

  “It’s not a Friday.”

  After Annani’s longest stay in the village, they’d decided to continue the tradition she’d started of having family dinners to celebrate the end of every workweek, but the news couldn’t wait. It was good that she had an excuse prepared. “Kalugal and Jacki are arriving tomorrow, and although they are family too, I thought it would be nice to have a more intimate dinner with just Amanda and Dalhu today.”

  He arched a brow. “Why do I have a feeling that you are not telling me something? What is my sister up to this time?”

  Damn, Kian knew her too well, and she sucked at hiding things from him.

  “Stop being paranoid and change out of your work clothes before they arrive.”

  He looked down at his slacks and button-down shirt. “What’s wrong with what I have on? If I change, it would be into more of the same.”

  She needed to get him a new wardrobe. Kalugal’s last visit had provided her with the inspiration of how to dress Kian casually and yet elegantly. His cousin had the style perfected.

  But since she hadn’t gotten around to it yet, Kian would have to work with what he had.

  “You can wear jeans. It’s a casual family dinner.”

  Kian smirked. “Should I wear the ones with the holes?”

  She loved those. They were old, the fabric was so soft that it molded to his powerful thighs, outlining every muscle, and they were frayed at the bottom. Kian looked good enough to eat in those jeans, especially when he went barefoot.

  Her man had such beautiful feet, and they looked particularly sexy framed in the frayed edges of those old jeans.

  Syssi fanned herself with her hand. “If you do, I won’t be able to concentrate on the conversation. Wear something else.”

  “Not a chance.” Laughing, he ducked into the closet.

  “You’re evil,” she called after him.

  “It’s payback for whatever you are keeping from me.”

  Syssi smiled. He was going to be so happy when he heard the news. Kian would not only be a father soon, he would be an uncle
as well.

  Their little Allegra would have a buddy to play with. According to Bridget, Amanda was six weeks pregnant, which meant that her baby would only be three months younger than Allegra.

  It was a shame that Amanda was freaking out, though, and planning to move to the sanctuary until her child transitioned.

  Hopefully, she would calm down and change her mind about it.

  If Amanda left, a new professor would take over the lab. Syssi didn’t like the idea of working with a human, who would have no idea what the lab’s real purpose was.

  At least the paranormal testing would continue because the clan was funding the research, and that was how things worked in universities. Research projects had to get funding, either from the government or from private sources, and that determined what got studied and what did not.

  Whoever thought that science was free from politics and popular trends was naive. As in everything else, money was the determining factor, and it was the professor’s job to get it for his or her lab. Luckily for Amanda, she didn’t have to chase after grant money and could dedicate all of her time to research and teaching.

  As the doorbell rang, Okidu opened the door and bowed. “Greetings, Mistress Amanda and Master Dalhu.”

  “Good evening.” Amanda walked in with her mate trailing behind her. “Did you tell him?”

  “Of course I did not.” Syssi pulled Amanda into her arms. “But it wasn’t easy. He suspects that I’m hiding something from him.”

  “Naturally.” Kian walked into the living room wearing a pair of jeans, but not the ones with the holes. “So, what is it all about? Am I going to like it, or hate it?”

  Amanda pulled out of Syssi’s arms, walked up to Kian, and hugged him tightly.

  As her shoulders started heaving, Kian put his arms around his sister. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Amanda.” His voice broke. “That’s wonderful, and a reason for celebration, not tears.”

  “I’m terrified.”

  “I know. But nothing bad is going to happen this time. I promise.”