Envisioned (Immortal Chronicles Book 3)

by Samantha Britt

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” he bit out, barely sparing her a glance before his hard eyes landed on Des. “What are you doing?” he asked the immortal.

  Des’ easygoing demeanor faded away. “Excuse me?” Darcie watched as each muscle in his arms flexed.

  Oh god, are they going to fight each other? Darcie’s brain struggled to find a way to resolve the situation. Maybe I should faint? They won’t fight each other over my unconscious body. Right?

  With the idea in mind, Darcie promptly held her breath.

  Des turned to her with wide eyes. “Do not be ridiculous, Darcie,” he said with faint amusement. “Breathe.”

  Her mouth fell open. “D-did you just read my mind?”

  He shook his head but did not say anything to her. Instead, he twisted back to face Alex. “I am waiting for an explanation, Alexander.”

  The vampire’s hard eyes did not waver. “You are being indiscreet when holding her hand with the door wide open. I do not recall you ever being so careless.”

  Still stunned from Des’ supposed mind-reading, it took Darcie an extra second to process Alex’s words. When she did, her lips turned down. “Are you serious?” Surely, he could not be mad that she and Des were holding hands.

  Alexander ignored her and continued reprimanding the immortal. “What if I was not the one to walk in? What if I had been Lome? Or Thane? Or another member of the alliance?”

  Darcie did not follow his logic. What would it matter if someone saw them holding hands? There could be a million reasons why Des held her hand. She turned her eyes to Des, waiting for him to counter Alex’s illogical frustration–to counter his audacity, but she was surprised to see the tension seep out of his body.

  Des tilted his head forward to gaze at the ground, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  What?! Darcie almost shouted the question. What in the world was happening? Since when did Des answer to Alexander?

  “How hard is it to close a door?” Alexander asked, not letting up. “Come on, Des.”

  “Hey!” Darcie finally spoke up, a part of her unable to continue listening to his reprimand. “Back off.”

  The vampire’s gaze finally moved to her. The blue color lost some of their coldness, but he still looked disapproving. She straightened her spine, readying herself to unleash her own scolding when Des’ voice made her pause.

  “No,” the immortal muttered. “Alexander is right.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “Right about what?”

  “About my thoughtlessness,” Des replied, his tone returning its normal, confident level. “I should have been more cautious.”

  “You were just holding my freaking hand!” she exclaimed in total shock. She could not believe they were actually having the conversation. “It’s not like we were making out in the hallway.” The words sort of fell out of her mouth, but Darcie refused to acknowledge her embarrassment. She wasn’t wrong. Holding hands was so not a big deal, and she did not like that Alexander managed to make Des regret doing it.

  “Hold hands in private,” Alexander stated, moving further into the room and shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against the wood and immediately re-crossed his arms. “There are enough rumors circulating about the two of you. There is no need to fuel the fires.”

  A sassy retort formed on her lips, but she refrained when her brain comprehended what he said. She frowned. “Are you talking about the soulmate thing?”

  She watched as Alexander rolled his eyes. “Yes. I am talking about the ‘soulmate thing’.”

  Darcie resisted the urge to walk over and kick him in the shin like a child. “So, what? Like I said, we were just holding hands. People are going to think what they want anyway. I don’t get why you are being so uptight about it.”

  “Darcie,” Des’ voice drew her attention. His expression was serious, but he did offer a small smile. “Thane is deranged with grief. He is looking for any reason to force me to bond with you.”

  Darcie released a frustrated breath. “I know that,” she revealed. “I just don’t like Mr. Judgmental over there looking so high and mighty.” She pointed towards Alex whose lips only widened in response to her childish jab.

  “You know?” Des asked, pulling her gaze back. His head furrowed in thought. “How?”

  “I had a vision,” she said with little emphasis. “While you guys were in the dining room.”

  Instead of seeming surprised, Des looked amused. “Ah yes,” his cheek twitched. “The chair.”

  Darcie ducked her head to try and hide her pink cheeks. “Yeah… I need to work on keeping quiet.”

  “It seems so,” Des confirmed. Then, he added, “If you saw Thane, then you know his is not himself. I would never go through with his demands, but they might become more insistent, and I honestly do not know what he is capable of.”

  She understood what Des meant, but she could not resist asking, “What is the worst he could do? If you won’t give in to his deranged demands, all he can do is vent and scream and be an idiot.”

  Alexander released a disapproving sound.

  Darcie turned to him with narrowed eyes, taking in his smug expression. “What?” she asked. “What is wrong with you now?”

  His own eyes morphed into a glare. “I should ask you the same thing. Do you like gambling with your life? Is this a game to you?”

  Whoa.

  Darcie leaned back as if his harsh words physically assaulted her. “Of course not,” she spat back. “I just don’t see why I still have to walk around on freaking eggshells while I am here in the mansion.”

  “That just proves you are still refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of your situation.”

  Darcie threw her hands in the air. “I understand ‘the seriousness of my situation’,” she mocked. “Why do you think I am here and not at home with my friends and family?”

  “Because we are all too busy to be traveling halfway across the world just to babysit you.”

  Ouch. Alright. That one hurt.

  Darcie bit her lip to keep her harsh words and hurt feelings contained.

  Des stepped to the side, effectively blocking Darcie and Alexander’s sight of one another. “That is enough, Alexander,” he said with force. “You have made your point. Please excuse us now so Darcie and I can talk.”

  She crossed her arms, feeling triumphant that Des effectively dismissed her foe. Where did Alex get off being so rude all of the sudden? She’d never seen him lose his cool in the weeks she’d known him, and they spent a lot of time together. Let alone, why would he unleash his temper on her?

  I thought we were friends.

  The vampire remained where he stood, seeming to contemplate if he would make one last remark before heeding the dismissal. After a tense silence, he decided not to say anything more. Darcie’s eyes moved and she saw Alex push off the door, turn the handle, and exit the room. He made sure to forcefully close said door to make his last, nonverbal point.

  Darcie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Des heard her and moved to stand in front of her again. He gazed down at her with worry. “Are you okay?”

  She closed her eyes, willing the adrenaline to leave her body. “I’m fine. That was just… unexpected.”

  “Alexander should have taken more care when trying to make his point,” Des commented. “But as I said earlier, his fears are not invalid. I should have shut the door to ensure no one saw us talking.”

  “So, I’m not allowed to talk to you?” asked Darcie in a pitiful tone.

  So much for trying to talk about things.

  “I didn’t say that.” Des’ eyes grew soft. “All this means is that we need to be discreet. We can still talk.” To back up his statement, Des reached forward and gently cupped her cheeks.

  Darcie immediately forgot her frustration. Her body had no room for any emotions other than unbridled eagerness and anticipation. Emerald eyes flickered between her own, looking for an answer to a
silent question, as Des slowly swayed closer to her.

  Whatever he wanted to know, Darcie willed her gaze to answer it favorably. Since their conversation the night Bella was abducted, she wanted to know what a real kiss from Des would feel like.

  Sure, she’d kissed him before back in Adir’s stronghold, but Darcie wanted to know what a real kiss–one without obligation–would feel like. Now that Des admitted he cared, would their kiss solidify whatever connection both had been trying to deny? Would they be able to hide it from everyone else if it did?

  A thousand more thoughts pressed against her head, urging her to consider them. But all were swept away the moment Des closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers.

  His ministrations were soft, but Darcie could feel the pent-up desire behind them. It was as if she could feel his energy and knew his was holding back.

  Unwilling to let that be the case, Darcie pressed herself into him and placed her hands on his biceps for balance. A noise she never heard from him sounded from his throat and vibrated against her lips. Des wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground until their torsos were aligned. He continued the kiss without pausing, keeping one hand against her face to guide her.

  Darcie did not have a lot of experience with kissing, but she tried her best to force away her self-doubt and just follow Des’ lead. Whereas she felt like her movements were rigid and spoke of her amateur status, the immortal attached to her moved with fluidity and ease. It was obvious this wasn’t his first rodeo.

  She could not contain the soft sigh as if gently passed by her swollen lips.

  God, he’s a good kisser.

  Another sound emanated from his throat. Only, this time, she recognized the sound.

  Is he… laughing?

  Self-consciousness overriding passion, Darcie managed to lean back and look at the immortal with dazed eyes. Des’ lids were hooded, smothered in desire and longing, but there was a subtle hint of amusement behind his dark gaze.

  The acknowledgment poured over her like a bucket of cold water. She grew stiff in his embrace.

  Des, still holding her cheek, turned it slightly so she had to face him. “What’s the matter?” His voice was husky.

  She ignored how the sound made her stomach clench. “You’re laughing at me,” she whispered, focusing her attention at the pulse at the base of his neck. The taunt skin flickered up and down in rapid succession.

  “Oh, Darcie,” Des immediately sounded apologetic. “I was not laughing at you. I’m sorry. It was a natural reaction to your thought.”

  Despite his intentions, that was the last thing that would make Darcie less self-conscious. “You can hear my thoughts?” she squeaked, remembering their earlier conversation with Alex. He’d known she was going to try and hold her breath.

  Holy crap.

  Darcie started to panic. What personal thoughts did Des eavesdrop on since she’d known him?

  Des shook his head, clarity beginning to seep back into his eyes. “Not exactly. It’s usually more like I can feel your intentions… your emotions. More often than not, they need to be running high for me to get a read on them.”

  Darcie’s stomach fell. She felt like she was going to be sick from mortification.

  Des, obviously, felt it. “You have been aware of this for a while,” he pointed out calmly. “You asked me about it the night after the Portland attack. You suspected I was able to sense when you were in danger. Remember?”

  She shook her head against the words even though she knew they were true. “I-I thought I was speaking directly into your head,” she admitted. Darcie had deliberately cried out for Des during the surprise attack. To test her theory, she had mentally called for him that same night. In both instances, he promptly appeared to help her. “I didn’t think you could feel my emotions.”

  The newest explanation felt intrusive. Much more than simple mind-communication would be. Was Darcie not allowed to have any genuine feelings or emotions without running the risk of alerting Des? It seemed like he could pinpoint them pretty accurately.

  She looked back up into the concerned pools of green. “Can I control it?” Can I keep you out of my head?

  Des looked regretful. “I do not believe so.”

  She wasn’t that surprised, but that did not stop the statement from stinging. “I think you should put me down,” she murmured. Des blinked, looking surprised to realize he still held her flush against his chest.

  “Of course,” he answered and immediately placed her feet on the ground.

  Darcie let loose a shaky breath before looking back up at Des and offering a hesitant smile. “I’m not feeling so hot,” she said. “I think I’m still hungry from missing breakfast and lunch this morning.” She shifted and made a move towards the door.

  Des allowed her to take two steps before his hand gently locked on her wrist. Darcie closed her eyes and breathed in her nose. “It’s okay, Des.” She opened her eyelids and moved her blue gaze to his face. “I just need time to chill–to process it. I’ll be okay.”

  While Darcie meant every word, Des looked torn between believing her and continuing a conversation to reassure himself she was okay.

  Darcie was not lying. She would be okay, but she did need time to let it all sink in. She willed confidence into her expression, silently urging him to believe her.

  Seeing her resolve, Des bobbed his head once before releasing her wrist. “We will talk soon.”

  “Sure,” she nodded before quickly turning and making her way out into the hallway and away from the awkwardness.

  Once she was safely in her room, she slumped to the floor and let her insecure teenage mind contemplate all the horrifically embarrassing things the most attractive man she’d ever seen had undoubtedly heard.

  She groaned and pressed her palms into her face. Just when I thought I was making progress.

  8

  Even though she said it to motivate Des to let her leave the awkward situation, Darcie was not lying when she said she felt ill. A sense of emptiness gnawed at her stomach, but at the same time, she could not bear the idea of eating anything. She was confident anything she put into the tumultuous organ would not remain there for long.

  Resigned to wait out the discomfort, Darcie decided she would attempt to distract herself by calling her dad. It had been a couple of days, and she was due for a check in. Scrolling through her phone, she selected his number and waited through the long rings for their call to connect.

  “Hello,” Professor Abernathy greeted in a near whisper.

  “Dad,” Darcie returned. “You busy?”

  “Darcie! No, not at all. Give me one moment.” She heard his voice drift away and the rustling of papers. Darcie sat on the edge of her bed and waited. The line grew oddly quiet. Darcie was moments away from ending the broken connection and calling again when her father’s throat cleared.

  “Alright. That’s better. Can you hear me, Darcie?” His voice was at a normal volume.

  “Yeah, I can hear you. Did I interrupt something?”

  “No, no. I was just in a library.”

  Explains the whispering.

  “Cool. Doing any fun research?” She leaned back onto the mattress, settling in for the conversation.

  Professor John Abernathy proceeded to update his daughter on his research. More than a month ago, her father traveled to Italy to examine recently discovered artifacts dug up by American archeologists. The scholar had been so excited to go, but still hesitated to leave Darcie behind after her sudden reappearance. She’d spent weeks at the brother’s mansion, and the immortals had believed she would remain there for some time. Hence, they arranged the academic adventure for the middle-aged man.

  But Darcie refused to allow her unexpected return to prevent her father’s trip. As it turned out, she was right to encourage him to go. Within a few weeks of being home, the teen was right back at the brothers’ mansion and had been for more than a month.

  “… the group has charg
ed me with conducting research on the era the artifacts were made. Fascinating stuff. Truly fascinating stuff.”

  Darcie smiled and said, “Sounds like it. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dad.”

  “I am,” he stated. “But I miss you. You should be here. You are too far away.”

  Darcie agreed. It was a sentiment her dad always expressed when they spoke. A part of her wished she could tell him that she really wasn’t as far away as he thought. Greece was right next to Italy, after all. But he couldn’t know she was there. Otherwise, she did not doubt he would want to arrange a visit.

  At one point, Darcie had confided in Alexander how much she wished she could see her dad. It had been one of her sulky, homesick days. The vampire pointed out they were not far from the Italian excavation site, and he suggested the brothers could alter their mind-manipulation to let her father know of Darcie’s actual location.

  Though the thought was tempting, she could not shake the feeling that her dad was better off thinking she was safe and sound in Maine. She did not want to get him dragged into the immortal mess. He was happy doing his work in Italy, and she was safe. That was all that mattered.

  Her father continued speaking, “By the way, I think I am going to come home next week.”

  The statement caught her completely off guard.

  “Why?” asked Darcie, trying to hide her panic. “Will the project be done?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’?” he asked with a laugh. “I want to see my daughter on her eighteenth birthday.”

  Darcie heard the words, but it took a second to process them. “My birthday?”

  John Abernathy continued to laugh. “Yes, Darcie. Your birthday. February 21st, I believe.”

  The knowledge that they were already in the month of February was astonishing; the fact that her birthday was next week was unbelievable. Darcie pulled back her phone and hit the home screen. Underneath the digital clock, the date read February 13th. How long had it been since she looked at a calendar?

  She let the information sink in as she brought the phone back to her ear. “I-I didn’t realize my birthday was just around the corner,” she replied lamely.