by I. T. Lucas
“But what if she is not compatible, and I’ll have to let her go, erase her memories? It’s going to hurt like hell…”
“Letting her go is going to hurt like hell regardless of what you do. You’re already head over heels with her. But at least, this way, giving it all, letting this thing between you bloom, you’ll get to sample a little bit of wonderful. The consequences of not admitting the truth and following your heart would bring a whole new world of hurt—much worse than just letting her go.” She shivered. “I hate to think what that will do to you.”
“What do you mean? What could be worse?”
“What could be worse? Think of it this way; she turns immortal, but wants nothing to do with you, chooses another male… one you cannot kill because they are all your nephews.”
“You’re right, this is worse…” His eyes flashed dangerously as his imagination ran rampant with disturbing possibilities. Unbidden, an image of Anandur smirking at him while holding Syssi with his arm wrapped around her shoulders made Kian see red. Tamping down his fury, he pushed out of his chair and began pacing the length of his office.
“Take a risk, Kian. I have a really good feeling about Syssi. Michael too.” Amanda’s eyes followed him as he paced back and forth the thirty feet or so.
“You had good feelings before and see how well those turned out,” he said sarcastically as he stopped to glare down at her.
“This time it’s different. You’ve never acted like that with the others, as a matter of fact, with anyone… And besides, I was just reminded of a talk I had with Mother a couple of months back. She said something I didn’t pay attention to at the time, but I think you’ll find it intriguing. You know how she sometimes makes those cryptic remarks that do not make any sense at the time, but then are crystal clear in hindsight?”
“What did she say?”
“She called me. We talked about my research, and she said; “Finally you have found what the soul eternally craves.” I thought she just misused the language—you know, the way she sometimes translates from her native tongue and it comes out weird. I thought what she meant was that I found my heart’s desire—something I like to do. But thinking back, she didn’t say your soul, she said the soul, meaning that I found something not for me personally but in general. What do all of our souls eternally crave, Kian?” Amanda gazed up into his eyes.
“A mate—an immortal, true love mate,” he said quietly.
“Bingo!”
Syssi and Kian’s story continues in
Dark Stranger Immortal
Available on Amazon
TURN THE PAGE FOR AN EXCERPT
OF DARK STRANGER IMMORTAL
CHAPTER 1: KIAN
The silence that followed was interrupted by Okidu’s light knock on the door. “Master, Dr. Bridget is here to see you.”
Tearing his gaze away from his sister’s hopeful face, Kian frowned. Amanda was so excited, her deep blue eyes were glowing. Unfortunately, she was reading too much into their mother’s words, grasping for meaning where there was none.
In his opinion, false hope was more dangerous than the baser emotions people scorned. A cruel and powerful mistress, hope obscured common sense and made random occurrences appear as meaningful signs, prompting those who followed its misleading trail to take questionable actions. Mindlessly disregarding the wellbeing of others and their own sense of self-preservation for hope’s illusive promise, more often than not, they were rewarded by nothing but chaos and pain.
“Show her in,” he told Okidu. “On second thought, never mind. I’ll go to her.”
In the living room, Bridget was pacing the small distance between the front door and the edge of the rug, looking agitated.
Great. His lips pulled into a tight line. Another female ready to tear into him over something he had supposedly done wrong.
Take a number and stand in line.
“Good afternoon, Bridget, what a nice surprise.” Kian wondered if she heard the thinly veiled sarcasm in his tone.
The doctor wrung her hands nervously. “Good afternoon, Kian, sorry to come up here without calling ahead, but this is urgent.”
“Think nothing of it, everyone else does…” He placed his hand on her shoulder, conveying the reassurance his tone didn’t. “What can I do for you, Bridget?”
“I’ve just learned that you have two potential Dormants here, and frankly, I was appalled I had to hear it from William. How come you didn’t check with me before initiating the process? I need blood samples before and after each venom injection. It’s the first time I have adult Dormants who I could test as we are attempting to activate them, and there might be a chance that their blood will provide the clues I need. You know how important this is.” By the time she finished her rant, her temper had painted her cheeks red to match the color of her hair.
“You’re right. With everything that was going on, it didn’t even cross my mind. But my oversight aside, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I don’t believe they are really what we are looking for, but just in case…”
“Yeah, just in case… Hi, Bridget.” Amanda gave the petite woman a hug. “Don’t listen to him, he of little faith. They. Are. It,” she whispered in the doctor’s ear, making sure it was loud enough for Kian to hear.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure they’ll be at your lab shortly.”
“Thank you.” Bridget smiled a tight, nervous smile and hurried out.
Closing the door behind her, Kian turned to Amanda. “I assume Syssi is at your place?”
“She is in my office. I’ve sat her down to do some work.”
“Good, I’ll get her. Call for someone to escort Michael to the lab, unless you want to do it yourself?”
They walked out together.
“Remember! Be nice… Woo her!…” Amanda slapped his back before punching the button for the elevator.
Woo her, right.
What the hell did it mean? Kian racked his brain trying to come up with something that would qualify as wooing. Should he quote poetry? He chuckled. He didn’t know any. Didn’t like it, and in his opinion, it was a lot of pretentious crap. If one wanted to convey an idea, one ought to do it in a way that would be clearly understood and not mask it in vague wording. Whatever. His opinion on poetry notwithstanding, he needed something more concrete than that word.
Woo.
Being serious and pragmatic wasn’t going to help him woo anyone, besides business associates, that is, not that he was any good at that either. Kian thought of himself as courteous and polite, and he was… most of the time… unless his temper got the better of him. Other than that, the extent of his social skills was limited to business dealings and seducing women in bars and clubs.
It wasn’t much to work with. In comparison, even bloody Anandur seemed like a witty charmer.
I’m so screwed…
With his footfalls making almost no sound on the hallway’s soft rug, Sissy didn’t hear his approach. She didn’t even lift her head when he peered into Amanda’s office.
For a moment, he observed her unawares. She looked adorable; scrunching her little nose in concentration, her wild multicolor hair all over the place—cascading down her back and front, covering her left breast while leaving the other outlined perfectly against her white, low-necked T-shirt.
She was so damn sexy it hurt.
Did she wear those T-shirts on purpose to taunt him? How was he supposed to get his head out of the gutter when she looked so tempting? Kian heaved a sigh. It would be next to impossible to follow Amanda’s advice and interact with Syssi in a non-sexual way.
She looked up from her work. “Hi, Kian… What was the heavy sigh for?”
For a moment there, he was tempted to yank her out of her chair and show her. Instead, he raked his itchy fingers through his hair. “Bridget, our in-house doctor, wants to take some blood samples from you and Michael. She needs to run tests before and after each venom infusion…”
On the wooing scale
of one to ten, that was probably a minus two.
With an inward curse, Kian’s brows drew tight. “Come, she is waiting for us in her lab.” He offered his hand.
Yep, I’m Mr. fucking Debonair.
CHAPTER 2: SYSSI
Here he goes again. Syssi winced.
In a heartbeat, Kian went from looking wistful to grumpy, his darkening mood casting an unpleasant, oppressive shadow.
Syssi swallowed past the hard lump in her throat. Was he suddenly reminded of the dismissive way she had treated him before?
Okay… two could play that game. She could be aloof and grumpy as well…
Yeah right…
Holding onto Kian’s hand as they headed for the elevator, Syssi struggled just to keep herself from plastering her body against his and rubbing all over him—like a cat on a scratching post.
But a quick glance at his grim, agitated face was enough to kill that impulse.
As they stood side by side, waiting for the elevator, there was an awkward silence between them, and if not for his hand holding onto hers almost crushingly, she would’ve thought he didn’t want to be with her.
As soon as the doors slid shut behind them, the tension got even worse. With the memory of last night’s momentous ride slamming down hard, the already small space shrunk around her, constricting her air supply.
“Fuck that!” Was all the warning she got before Kian shoved her against the wall and smashed his lips over hers with a low guttural sound reverberating deep in his throat. He held her in place with his hand on her nape, his tongue invading her welcoming mouth.
She moaned.
Her small needy whimpers must’ve urged him on, and he bent his knees to align their bodies, gyrating his hips and grinding himself against her.
Testing, she pushed her tongue past his lips and thrust into his mouth. He let her, groaning as she went on swirling and licking at his fangs’ extended length.
“More…” Kian growled when she left his mouth to kiss and nip at his throat, pulling her back to his lips, “… my fangs, I never knew it’d feel so damn good…”
Was she the first to give him this pleasure? Floored by his admission, Syssi’s heart swelled with satisfaction. Kissing him long and hard, she swirled her tongue round and round his fangs until he groaned with bliss.
Once again, they were on fire, their need for each other insatiable. But unlike last night, acting on it was not an option. As the elevator chime announced that it reached its destination, Kian released her, and a moment later she let go of him as well.
Panting breathlessly as Kian held the door from closing, Syssi took a moment to compose herself before exiting into the wide corridor.
“Hold on!” He grabbed her arm as she stepped out. “I need another moment here.” He leaned his back against the hallway’s wall, holding onto her bicep as if afraid she’d bolt. “Between my fangs and what’s going on down below, I’ll make quite a spectacle of myself if I walk into Bridget’s lab like this.”
“Need me to talk about gross, disgusting stuff? I can help you deflate in no time…” Syssi giggled, not at all sorry for his predicament.
Kian cocked a brow. “What gross stuff?”
“Once, when I was at the mall, I saw this little kid in a stroller eating a hamburger. He choked on a larger piece and puked, but kept eating the puke-covered hamburger as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, his mother was chatting with a friend and pushing the stroller, bewildered by the horror-filled glances of passers-by, oblivious to what was happening, until a saleslady ran out from one of the stores with a roll of paper towels.”
Kian chuckled. “Only you could think of telling a story like that. I was expecting guts and gore, and here you go, talking about little kids and puke.” He caressed her cheek tenderly. “My sweet Syssi.” He bent to kiss the top of her head.
“But it worked, didn’t it?” She smirked.
“Yep, only partially, but it will do. Let’s go.” He took her hand and led her toward the lab.
Whatever it was that had him all twisted up before seemed to have ebbed, and Kian was once again affectionate and easygoing with her. She wondered if their kiss in the elevator had been responsible for Kian’s mood change.
Yeah, that was probably it.
Smiling up at him, she asked, “You know the saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”
“What about it?”
She joggled her brows. “In your case, it’s not the stomach.”
“I have a newsflash for you, baby…” Kian snorted. “Unless a guy is gay or impotent or otherwise compromised, I don’t care who he is; sex would always trump a full stomach.” Pulling her tightly against his side, he gave a little squeeze.
As they walked into the lab, Bridget was tying a rubber tube around Michael’s bicep. Sitting on one of the metal tables, Michael winced and turned his head away. “I hate needles, can you make it quick, Doctor?”
“Don’t be a big baby. You’re just like my son. Watching gory horror movies that make me cover my eyes and ears is fine, but a drop of his own blood makes him faint.” Bridget plunged the needle in one swift move.
Syssi sat on the table beside him. “Hi, Michael, how are you feeling?” She took his right hand to distract him from what was going on with his left.
“Nauseous… faint…” he admitted with a grimace.
“I mean, how are you feeling after the match, anything hurt?” She kept talking, drawing his attention to herself and away from the needle and the number of glass vials Bridget was filling with his blood.
“Oh, that? Nah, it’s all good. That venom is a miracle drug. Most of the bruises were gone in a couple of hours, and the pains and aches even before that. I wish I had the stuff after football practice or games, or when…”
As he kept talking, Bridget finished filling the vials. “All done, big boy, you can hop down now.” She removed the tourniquet and pressed a gauze square to the crook of his arm, attaching it with an adhesive tape. “Want a lollypop?”
“Sure, I’d love one. What flavors you got?”
“Cherry, apple, and caramel.”
“I’ll take the apple. Is it sour?”
“I don’t know…” She smiled. “Here you go.” She handed him two apple-flavored lollypops.
“It’s your turn, young lady. How is your relationship with needles?” Bridget finished sticking labels on the tubes she had filled with Michael’s blood and pulled out a new tourniquet to tie around Syssi’s bicep.
“Don’t love them, don’t hate them… I’m not squeamish.” Syssi held out her arm.
Michael walked over to where Kian was leaning against another lab table and eased back beside him. Sucking on his pop, he offered Kian his spare one. “Want a pop?”
“No, I’m good, kid. Keep it for later.”
“So, Doctor Bridget, what exactly are you going to do with all that blood?” Michael asked, waving the pop in the direction of the test-tube rack.
“Well, I’m going to run a bunch of tests. Genetic tests mostly. First I’m going to check your mitochondrial DNA to establish your matrilineal descent and make sure you and Syssi are not from the same line, or ours. Then I’m going to be checking for anything and everything that might give me a clue. Unfortunately, the knowledge rescued from the cataclysm did not include medicine or genetics, so we are just as clueless as mortals on those subjects.” She sighed, placing another ampule of Syssi’s blood in the rack.
Alarmed by the possibility, Syssi glanced at Kian. By the grim expression on his face, so was he. “Is there a chance we might be of the same line as you guys?” she asked.
“It’s a very remote chance. Annani was an only daughter to her mother, who was also an only daughter. The gods started mating with mortals only after Annani’s mother came of age and not before. So as far as we know, there weren’t any other descendants from that line besides Annani. But we need to make sure. We take the taboos very seriously. In-line mating might have disastrous
genetic implications that we couldn’t even fathom. As promiscuous as the gods were, there must have been a good reason for such a strong taboo.”
“Well, let’s hope for the best. I’m positive you’ll find Michael and I are from two completely different lines…” Syssi smiled, trying to reassure Kian, or maybe herself.
“Yes, I certainly hope so.” Bridget finished with the last test tube.
“Hope springs eternal for the young and naive. Personally, I hate the bitch,” Kian spat as he pushed away from the table. “In my experience, hope is often groundless. Fairytales have happy endings—real life seldom does.” He lifted Syssi off the table as if the one-foot jump down could be hazardous to her health, or perhaps just used it as an excuse to hold her tightly for a moment.
Whatever his reasons for the gallant gesture, at the contact, her skin prickled with awareness. And as he held her close, she breathed in his unique musk, getting intoxicated by it. Syssi had to briefly close her eyes. The man smelled absolutely delicious. When he reluctantly released her, she opened her eyes slowly, swaying on her feet a little before turning to Bridget. “When will you have something for us?”
Fidgeting with her equipment, the doctor seemed uneasy with their open display of affection. “The mitochondrial DNA testing will be done probably today. The rest will take as long as it does. I have a slew of tests I’m thinking of, and probably will come up with some more as I go.”
“Don’t you need to send it out to a genetics lab?” Syssi didn’t know what exactly was required, but the small lab they were in certainly didn’t have anything looking even remotely sophisticated.
