Fall of Kings: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 5)

by Jamie Magee

“Loyalty. Not requested. Promised. To break such a thing would be as insane as sparring with the devil.” Her stare flicked to Talon. “A death wish.”

  With her menacing words still lingering in the air, Reveca left the room.

  Talon glanced back to King who only lifted one shoulder in response.

  Talon shook his head then rose, stepping over Miriam as he did so. He had business to handle, a war to fight.

  Death wish…yep, I have one of those, babe.

  Chapter Three

  My Dove, Judge thought as he watched her sleep…a sleep which had imprisoned her for nearly three days at this point.

  Quiet breaths eased from her rose-tinted lips. Each escape caused the swells of her breasts to rise and the hard peaks of her nipples to strain at her thin top. She made faint but clear moans when she moved her long legs ever so subtly.

  Her expressions alone told an epic story, one Judge had always hoped he was alone in interpreting. He didn’t want anyone else knowing her the way he knew her—ever.

  Each night, since they’d been apart, at least for an hour, he’d crept into her room and watched her dream. The wicked enticement, him seeking her out as she dreamt, was one that Judge had not only worshipped, but also craved to witness—the silent hours had always given him a reason to hope, to grasp what thin sliver of humanity he still maintained in day to day life, the humanity that was vacant when he was face to face with an enemy.

  The world, dead and living, stands between us, Dove… He flinched with the thought. You are my heaven and my hell.

  The heaven was that, after meeting her, he found reason to cling to immortal life, a reason to shed apathy for the mayhem of strife. She made him remember his mortal days, made him see how precious life itself was, that it was a gift which should not be wasted no matter the cause. Fragile.

  She awoke him…

  The hell? He knew he wasn’t worthy of her. The fear of losing her haunted him until the day his fears came to be his life.

  Tonight, his soul was splitting in two. Part of him wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg Adair to wake. And when she did he’d beg her to be his. He’d swear to become and do whatever she dared to request. He’d give up everything—even his Club, the only life he knew—for her. He’d tell her every truth and protect her from the pain of such things. He’d make the blissed out Zen dreams he’d had about her come true…he’d give her that life.

  The other part of him, the dark part, was famished for vengeance that demanded his attention, his emotion. The dark side of him whispered handle your business. Leave. Now. As you stand here—you grant mercy to Chalice. For fuck’s sake that cannot happen.

  As much as he hated to admit it, his dark side did have a point.

  Sound asleep, safe in this home, no one could hurt Adair, not even Adair. Right now she wasn’t able to tell him she hated him for his choices. There was still a chance he could win her back, find a way to be in the state of mind to do so.

  Knowing she was safe meant he could focus on honoring his fallen family. Along with all the other innocent souls Chalice had taken down in the name of God.

  If he left her side, a fucking tirade of bloodshed would be had for he was going to bring Chalice to the brink of death and back again. Make him feel the pain each of his victims endured. For the children he slaughtered—Judge was going to make him feel their pain twice over. It would take days, months, of torture to even come close to the vengeance Judge had planned over the course of his immortal life.

  For the past week, Judge being on the hunt for Akan with Talon instead of being with Shade at Latour’s was not a fluke, or him simply avoiding Adair and the emotions she wrought.

  No. It was so this war would stay in control of the Sons. So emotion would not cause them to play a card before they were ready to do so.

  Everyone knew, no amount of loyalty, skill, honor, or balance would keep Judge from bringing Chalice asunder.

  In some way, the Sons posted at Latour’s were there to not only watching the Devil’s Den crew’s every move, but to also be there to stop Judge if he lost his battle of control and showed up to face off with Chalice.

  Now that Judge was off the road, the Sons there were even more on guard, knowing that Judge would find some way to blame Chalice for Adair’s current comatose state. They knew her condition might very well be his tipping point.

  They were right. It took all Judge had to not leave. He’d already calculated the time, the strike he’d make, how and where he’d hold Chalice—everything.

  Yet he waited. Each time he went to leave, she’d move in her sleep, arch her back, glide her legs across the silk sheets—a mouthwatering move.

  Scorpio would come to attention, Dagen would look a little deeper into whatever he saw as he watched over her. Which meant Judge’s outright jealousy kept him in place, each and every time.

  He knew that staying, defending what he loved, not fighting what he hated, meant Adair was his everything. She had to be—how else could she make him forget ages of hunger for vengeance without saying a word?

  And what was fucked up was he was furious at her for doing so.

  His demons were now entwined with Adair’s. Chalice destroyed Judge’s family, and by all appearances he raised Talley, which in some way was going to destroy Adair. Which meant Judge had always been right—he wasn’t good enough for Adair. All he could promise her was a long life of one upset after another—she’d always be threatened.

  Yet, he knew the only soul in this universe who could slow his roll, ease his wrath—was her. He couldn’t fight it. She was his humanity. She gave him reason to reflect, to feel, even when he didn’t want her to—even when humanity would do nothing but get in his way.

  It baffled him that, though he couldn’t see into her mind, witness her past and judge her intent within a breath, he could still read her. He was so aware of her, every breath and every move, that if anything, he knew her more so than the Sons he’d spent lifetimes with.

  Mystery, diversity…he’d come to the conclusion the best loves were made of such—passion lurked in a lover who coveted such things.

  Her resting like this for nearly three days might have been the exact reprieve they both needed to come at this distance between them once more.

  It might have given him the pause he needed to help him sort how his entire life had been flipped upside down in a breath.

  It wasn’t though, obviously.

  How could it be when two other males’ gazes peered upon her—stared at what only he’d seen? The mere idea alone was maddening to him. Stirring the wrath.

  What had him seething was Dagen, perched above—he didn’t even bother to notice the glares Judge soared his way. And Scorpio. That fuck didn’t even try and close his mind off, hide every second that went down between him and Adair.

  Judge couldn’t see Adair’s thoughts, as usual, but he’d become an expert at reading her expressions. So when Scorpio put his mind on repeat, Judge had no choice but to read them, over and over.

  Hear her desperate plea…

  Now, like years before, Scorpio had flared an interest with Adair. He was the good guy, then and now. The one not denying or explaining the nature of Judge or the Club, but caressing Adair’s fears in his own stoic way.

  The idea of Scorpio being the ‘good’ guy was ludicrous to Judge.

  There was a reason Talon and Reveca had ensured every President of each chapter was a Phoenix. It wasn’t mere luck of the draw, or even prejudice. It was survival. It kept the good immortals alive and well.

  Phoenixes didn’t struggle with an inner beast like the wolves; they didn’t live with the recollections of their prey like the vampires, or fight with staying in one form—constantly seeking a way to claim calm, like the shifters. And they didn’t see every angle of an enemy’s mind; find compassion for the vilest of evil for they could see the path that led them to the present, like the seers.

  Instead, they embodied life and death equally.
They were intense when needed, but more so playful—daring. They beckoned you to live, embrace every adventure, while ensuring you had no fear of death, telling you it was just another passage.

  Their facade made them equally protective and lethal; they’d kill without mercy or warning. Their prey never saw them coming. The strikes they made, the impulsive decisions, were done so brazenly that it wasn’t until in hindsight that others realized it was the best, the only move to be had at the time.

  Scorpio had been nothing short of ruthless in his past—you were either on his good side or you were dead.

  Judge had known him for ages; he’d been the one who backed him when he sought his own chapter to lead. Scorpio even petitioned for Judge to be his VP, saying he needed the guidance, but was denied by Talon.

  They’d fought wars side by side. There was a time when Judge was closer to Scorpio than he was Thames, or even Talon.

  Their history was the only thing stopping Judge from ripping his throat out now, and before, years ago when he came to Judge and said that he and Adair had a thing. When he told Judge if he didn’t man up, he’d challenge the claim laid on Adair.

  Back then, Judge refused to withdraw his claim or tell Adair there was one. He was a man who was used to seeing into the minds of everyone, of being able to understand their past, the reasons they made the choices they made, and correctly predict the outcome of their next move.

  Not seeing into Adair terrified him.

  He had no way to gauge the outcome. And then, like now, he’d rather live with the hope of her than knowing for sure it never would be. He was afraid of losing her…and he was afraid of winning her, pulling her into his world.

  But years ago when she approached him, rage rippling in her emerald eyes, and she demanded he drop his superficial claim—instinct took over. He fell hard and fast for the little witchling.

  Right now the three of them were watching Reveca look over Adair, trying to at least wake her long enough to drink, and failing to do so.

  Reveca’s gaze would shift between the three males in the room but settled more often on Dagen. His subtle expressions seemed to ease Reveca, speak a thousands words.

  All they did for both Judge and Scorpio was infuriate them more.

  Dagen may be legit, but he was still an outsider—not patched in to the brotherhood. He wasn’t a Son, which meant trust would be given at arm’s length, at best.

  Reveca stood from the bedside and walked to Judge, her gaze moving over every inch of him.

  Judge pulled his shoulders back and crossed his arms. He had every right to be mad at Reveca, but the fucked up truth was he couldn’t be. Not when he, just like the others, feared King was going to vanish with her at any second. He didn’t want to add to the reasons she would choose to go on one of her hiatuses. Beyond that, he didn’t have the room to be pissed at anyone else—he was far too close to the edge as it was.

  Her gray eyes eased over him, filled with a grief only a ‘mother’ could have for one of her own going through hell. “Word is there’s a demand for Church…a lot of people do not want to wait for her to wake.” She glanced back. “They feel it would be easier for Thames to take down the memory blocks in her mind in the state she’s in.”

  “A lot of people,” Judge bit out, tossing a glare in Scorpio’s direction as he kept up his diligent pace just outside her door.

  In response Scorpio leered, even halted his pace until he was sure Judge was not going to lunge at him.

  “I’ll hold them off,” she said quietly to Judge, drawing his attention back to her. “Focus them on setting up this trade with Akan.”

  She paused clearly reading Judge. The plan was to trade Akan for Chalice, or at least that was the plan Akan proposed. It was too easy, exactly what they all wanted—Chalice in custody, which is why they were hesitant to not believe there wasn’t a twist around the corner.

  “The others are due back soon from staking out Latour’s.” Again Reveca paused, surely wondering if the knowledge that there would be no one at Latour’s to stop Judge if he decided to attack before any trade could be made would come out.

  It didn’t.

  “They’re not seeing anything, anyway. It would be better to have them here since this is where Talley has surfaced.”

  Right, that’s the reason…

  “I thought you told me you cloaked her. How does he know exactly where she is—when she’s alone.”

  They had all seen the dead foliage around the Boneyard. Talley was but a breath away from Adair the night Jade attacked.

  In the space between the heart of the Boneyard and the Cage he had nothing but time to strike—crashing through the barrier around the Boneyard would’ve hurt him, but even in that state he could’ve overpowered Adair…just the thought made Judge’s gut roil.

  The worst part was, according to Reveca, each time Talley had approached over the last week was when Adair was alone, near the borders. As if he knew each step she was taking. Hunting her…

  “He’s tracking her somehow. I don’t how, though. I took everything in her possession, shy of her spell books, and burned them.”

  “Her weapons,” Judge assumed.

  Reveca shook her head slightly, nodded up to Dagen. “He replaced them, but she doesn’t know though. When he suggested it would be a good idea for her to surrender them she unloaded a clip in his direction.”

  Judge barely stopped himself from smirking proudly. “Fucker heals fast.”

  “He caught the bullets.”

  Judge slowly moved his head side to side. “No shit, I must have missed that lesson in my immortal training. I wonder where he picked up his skills.”

  Nothing. Nope, Reveca still wasn’t ready to tell them what the fuck Dagen and King were.

  Honing in his anger Judge said, “Talley rising from the dead—is this part of the curse, the original one? Did Zale intend for his minions to do this—or is this just Chalice being the twisted fuck he is?”

  A slight shrug. “Anything is possible. I’ve taken everything Scorpio briefed us on under consideration. It’ll be voiced at Church.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until she wakes.” Because if I do I’ll slaughter Chalice and the repercussions be damned. “You want my vote, take it from here.”

  A curious glance. “What’s it going to be?”

  Judge swallowed harshly. “I don’t think she can handle the end, Reveca. Seeing what he did to her.” Before Reveca could state they would leave those blocks in place he spoke over her. “She’s brilliant. Her mind will lead her there, and she’ll face it.”

  Judge glanced at Scorpio, into his mind. He heard Adair’s plea to him once more, heard her say not knowing was hurting her, that the past drives you—he agreed. But still…the memories she was seeking would forever change a soul.

  In a way she was asking him to kill her, kill the absolute joy she was. She was asking him to raise a soul that would mirror his—calm on the surface, but on the inside focused on revenge and pain.

  “You’re right, she’s brilliant. This spell she’s dissolving now may very well lead her there, too.” She placed her hand on his chest. “You want her to approach this past with emotion, not without it. Honor the blessing Talley and Finley gave you. Be there for her.”

  Judge clenched his jaw and then riveted his stare on Adair’s sleeping body.

  “I assume you’re aware your ‘tempest’ is present and accounted for.”

  He was. Thames had told him all about Miriam. And from Adair’s balcony he pointed out the willowy witch on a distinct swamp house porch.

  Instantly Judge recognized her as one of Adair’s close friends, a girl who emerged only a few months after the accident.

  On one of his many passes by the Cauldron she’d spotted him. She even outright approached him, and he was quick to tell her to keep steppin’. When she questioned why he was staring if he wasn’t interested, Judge all but humiliated her, stating loudly enough for all around to hear that her bony ass
was far from his type. He also told her whores were not on his menu. After that she’d glare when she saw him.

  Thames was confounded and pissed this ‘tempest’ had gotten one over on all of them.

  Years back when a sleek blonde had rubbed up on Judge, when he couldn’t see a damn thing in her mind—he was sure it was a trick, some girl paid by Zale to fuck with him.

  Thames literally stopped Judge from squeezing the girl’s life from her with only a glance.

  Then he made quick work of reaching in her mind and blocking the night out completely, pushing a different version in. He’d told Judge he was paranoid, that he didn’t see anything jacked in the girl’s head beyond a normal southern girl looking for a taste of danger—he even called the girl boring.

  Judge leered, a manic smirk. “It’d be best for you to keep her and her many faces from my sight.”

  Just the thought of her, no matter what illusion she placed over her image, made him shiver with disgust.

  “What would be her motive to target you? What did you see in her mind? Is it how she says? Insecure female using a glamor spell to get her friend’s male?”

  Judge met her stare. “I don’t fucking care.”

  “You didn’t see anything in her mind?” Reveca clarified.

  Judge let out a slow exhale. “As Thames put it, each girl was near boring—a small town girl with a flare for a bad boy, no red flags.” He shook his head, furious at the memory. “Most times I was three-sheets-to-the-wind—blissed outta of my fucking mind before she ever showed up.” He grimaced before he said his next words. “She’s never gotten very far with me, not as far everyone thinks.”

  Reveca arched a brow, more determined than ever to fillet the uninvited witch on her property. “I think she spelled you to feel as wasted as you did, that it was part of the enchantment.” She tilted her head. “You should be proud you resisted her as well as you did.”

  Judge’s grin was lethal. Proud? What the fuck ever.

  “And what does that say about me? The ‘great’ seer of the mother Chapter.” Judge sardonically slanted his head. “I bet the next time someone asked for me to be moved to their chapter you’ll think twice before you say no.”