Elder Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  Now, it seemed, they’d determined a new way to make an immortal. And perhaps, for the first time, may have finally found the way Aidan was created.

  “And you want to experiment on Jeremiah,” Balthazar concluded, his expression devoid of emotion.

  “Seems fitting,” Aidan replied. “Though, I suppose it’s also slightly cruel.”

  “Cruel,” Balthazar repeated as if tasting the word. “What he did to my Nythos was cruel. She died not once, but twice.” His hands fisted, his brown eyes smoldering with fury. “Do it.”

  Luc frowned. “Are you sure?”

  From what he’d observed of Balthazar, he seemed to value life and love, not revenge and torment. But as the male stared at him, he could see the warrior who lurked beneath the exterior. The immortal who would do right by those he loved, even if it meant evoking pain.

  He said nothing because words between them weren’t needed.

  From that single exchange, Luc already understood.

  “We’ll do it now,” Luc said with a glance at his father.

  “Then I’ll retrieve him from the mortal guards.”

  “One thing,” Balthazar said, causing Aidan to pause at the threshold. “I don’t know if Nythos had a power or not, but if she did, it was seductive in nature.” The words sounded forced, as if being pulled from the depths of his soul. He cleared his throat before adding, “While I adore sex, I felt lost to her when she woke. Rather unnaturally so.”

  Aidan considered him carefully. “That would be fitting, given her proclivities. Did you feel incapable of rational thought?”

  “No, just different. Overwhelmed.” He seemed unable to elaborate.

  Luc met Aidan’s gaze. He’s not ready, he said through his eyes.

  Agreed, his father nodded and left to retrieve the mortal.

  Balthazar ran his hands through his hair and shifted away to a corner of the room. He sat with his knees tucked to his chest and his arms wrapped around his shins. Every time he glanced at Nythos, he flinched.

  Luc found a loose blanket on the bed and gently tucked it over her, hiding the scene but not the scent. “We’ll give her a proper burial,” he murmured softly.

  Balthazar nodded, his eyes misting. He appeared so young in that moment—a man having his heart broken for the first time. But Luc didn’t for a second consider him weak. It took great strength to embrace such emotions, and substantial resolve to maintain a clear head in the process.

  “You think my decision regarding Jeremiah is based on logic,” Balthazar murmured. “I assure you, it’s not.”

  Luc settled opposite him, crossing his long legs at the ankles while stretched along the floor. “Most assume anything tied to emotion is thereby irrational, when, in fact, some of the best decisions are identified in the most hypersensitive of moments. You may think this is about revenge, but it’s also founded in curiosity.”

  For knowing the truth would help them never make this mistake again. Not that it would ease the pain his friend must be feeling.

  Luc was almost jealous. He’d never met a woman or a man who elicited such feeling in him. There were several he enjoyed sexually, but no one ever touched his heart or mind. Perhaps because his intellectual needs far superseded most. Finding an equal, or even one who entertained him for long periods, would be near to impossible.

  “You think I loved her,” Balthazar said softly.

  “Am I wrong?”

  Those dark chocolate orbs locked on Luc for a long moment. “It’s hard to say. I love so many, but she meant more to me than most. I adored her enthusiasm, her company, and her spirit. Such a gorgeous woman inside and out.” He sighed, his eyes falling shut as he rested his head against the wall behind him. “I’ll never forget her.”

  On the surface, Balthazar exuded a sexual appeal that attracted many, but beneath that layer existed a male with strong ties to his inner emotions. Fascinating. It explained both of the immortal’s gifts while also offering significant revelations about the man himself.

  “Shall I analyze you as well?” Balthazar offered without looking at him.

  “I imagine your insight into my mind would make that a simple enough task.”

  His lips twitched. “Your intellectual maze is exhausting, but it defines you. Complex, regal, seductive, and charming. But most importantly, your assessment of my warrior side brings to light your leadership qualities.”

  Balthazar shifted away from the wall and captured Luc’s gaze.

  “Your gift centers around strategy more than omniscience, as does Aidan’s,” he continued. “His interest in testing theories on Jeremiah isn’t a result of craving knowledge so much as requiring it for future decisions. Because you both suspect our lives will one day be in jeopardy.”

  Luc stared at him. “How far have you gone into my head?”

  “Far enough to know why you truly desired to find another like yourself.” No hint of concern, merely issuing a fact. “It’s more than a need not to spend eternity alone. You want to find others of our caliber—dual powered, immortal, no thirst for blood—to ensure survival.”

  “Because humankind will not always be so accepting of our existence,” Luc finished for him. “Already I see the consequences of jealousy and hatred, those who do not understand why we’re gifted and not them, and that will only increase as the population grows.”

  “Exactly. You’re strategizing for centuries and millennia to come, examining every angle and outcome. It’s fascinating, if a little daunting. But it’s what marks you as a leader.”

  “And you choose to hide beneath a veneer of pleasure.”

  Balthazar grinned at that. “Who says it’s a veneer?”

  “To have deduced all that implies otherwise,” Luc replied.

  “A conversation to be debated at another time.” Balthazar flicked his gaze to the entrance. “We have a theory to test.”

  Aidan appeared with a barely conscious Jeremiah and tossed him to the ground. “I’ve already completed the blood exchange, thanks to his little escape attempt, but I thought you might want to kill him?” He held up a blade, his focus on Balthazar.

  The pathetic excuse of a male whimpered on the floor, his mouth dribbling blood. Luc eyed him curiously. “Did he imbibe enough?” he asked. Because it appeared he’d spit most of it up onto his clothes.

  “I held my wrist to his mouth for sixty seconds while holding his nose. It’s enough.” Aidan’s disgruntled tone sent Luc’s eyebrows upward. His father rarely lost his patience or cool around the mortals.

  “He tried to stab him again,” Balthazar murmured, responding to Luc’s unspoken question. “And here I thought he was a coward.”

  “He’s an imbecile who deserves this fate and that of ten others,” Aidan stated irritably. “If you don’t stab him, I’ll gladly do the honors.”

  Balthazar stood. “How about I stab him in the heart while you slit his throat?”

  Aidan’s mouth curved upward while Jeremiah whined something incoherent on the floor.

  “Yes. I accept that recourse.” His father handed a knife to Balthazar. “It’s like you can read my mind, B.”

  “Fancy that?” the mind reader replied, his tone lacking humor as he focused on the mortal. “Stand him up.”

  Luc didn’t need to be told twice. He hefted the cowardly human up by the neck of his robes and held him steady.

  Balthazar stared down at the much shorter man. “Do you know why Bania came to me?” he asked softly. He waited a beat, his expression emotionless. “Hmm, I can hear that you don’t. You see, she was dissatisfied with your performance, or lack thereof, in bed, and she blamed herself. She sought me out for a lesson in sensuality, hoping it would improve your relationship.”

  He paused and twirled the sharp weapon while Jeremiah went eerily still.

  “Yes, now you understand. She wasn’t cheating so much as learning, which is a shame since she won’t be able to demonstrate anything I taught her on you. However, I’ll be a gentleman in your abs
ence and help console her after your death. I’m charitable like that.” He drove the knife through the man’s heart without blinking an eye or showing an ounce of remorse.

  Aidan followed it up by slitting the bastard’s throat, then wiped the blade against the mortal’s robes. “See you in a bit.”

  8

  B

  Nythos always wore red well. It suited her complexion and hair and showcased her love for life.

  Such a sensual spirit.

  He laid a bouquet of her favorite flowers beside her in the canoe and bent to kiss her forehead. Spirits and souls weren’t something he knew a lot about, but he hoped she existed somewhere feeling cherished and adored.

  Fuck, he would miss her for eternity. No one would ever replace her in any way. “My darling Nythos,” he murmured, his hand over hers. “May you fly and live again. Someday.”

  Her family stood off to the side, their thoughts assaulting him in waves of remorse. He blamed himself for her death, as did her brothers, but her mother silently thanked him for giving her daughter a full life. Balthazar held on to that gratitude and wound it around his heart. Because while knowing him may have led to her early demise, Nythos wouldn’t have truly lived had it not been for him. He provided her with the gifts of freedom and independence and the ability to thrive without censor.

  Her spirit is finally free.

  Firelight danced over the water as Balthazar stood once more. “Gone but never forgotten,” he whispered, a piece of his heart breaking off to sail with her. He nudged the canoe from the shore. “Until we meet again, my little nymph.”

  No one spoke as she drifted, but the mental murmurs bespoke sadness and mourning. Luc and Aidan stood near the back, their support a solid presence in his mind. They spent the last three days experimenting on Jeremiah while Balthazar made arrangements with Nythos’s family for their future. He intended to leave them everything he owned, an act that seemed to appease her father more than anyone else. The older man appeared to care only about the financial loss of her passing, while the rest of the family grieved.

  He rolled his neck and met her mother’s gaze.

  Thank you, she said again. She would have loved this.

  He agreed with a nod. Nythos loved the rivers. He frequently found her bathing in the calmer areas, her hair glistening in the moonlight. How many times had they made love near and beneath the falls?

  “Siren,” he once called her.

  “Do you require a song?” she asked, a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

  He lifted her into his arms. “Mmm, yes, I think I do.”

  “It will be about you,” she whispered as her legs circled his waist. “And all the ways you’ve changed me for the better.”

  “I think you have our roles reversed.” He braced her back against a rock. “You are the one who has changed me.”

  The memory of her laughter caressed his heart. He swore he heard it even now, carrying on the wind as the last vestiges of her ceremonial canoe disappeared over the water’s edge. Her body disappeared beneath the sea, her spirit laid to rest surrounded by nature. A fitting burial for one who adored life.

  Balthazar bowed respectfully to Nythos’s mother and the rest of her family. Only the maternal one among them returned the gesture before sitting beside the water. They would host a private ritual now, meant for the blood relatives.

  Goodbye, my sweet.

  He excused himself from their beliefs, needing to handle his grief in a different manner. Because while he acknowledged that his blood killed her, he also knew the real person to blame lay tied up a few hundred yards away. And he intended to return the favor. Tonight.

  Luc and Aidan joined him on the path, their thoughts torn between remorse and intrigue. They’d discovered several aspects regarding immortality while playing with Jeremiah. He was indeed like Aidan—requiring mortal blood to survive—and only possessed one gift.

  Retrocognition.

  It seemed appropriate that the man was doomed to forever access the past. A single touch sent him backward in time to experience it as himself. Aidan had enjoyed exploiting the gift by forcing Jeremiah to mentally relive each of his deaths throughout the years, including the one the new immortal had inflicted on him several days ago.

  At least a few positive results came from all of this, as they now possessed confirmation that two immortal types existed. It solved an ancient puzzle for Aidan and how he came to be as well. From Balthazar’s dive through the older being’s thoughts, he learned that there were other blood drinkers in existence, none of whom knew anything about their origins. Luc, however, was the only other known dually gifted immortal.

  Fear assaulted Balthazar’s senses as he reached their captive, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He understood why all the tests were needed, including the ones regarding how fast Jeremiah healed, but he wanted this done.

  “Have you tried your blood?” Balthazar asked, his gaze on Aidan.

  “Not yet.” He rolled up the sleeves of his robes while he spoke. “I don’t think it’ll impact him.”

  “Good.” That was Balthazar’s expectation. “It means I can kill him with mine. A suitable death, considering the crime.”

  Jeremiah’s eyes bugged as he tried to speak over the gag in his mouth. Don’t! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—

  “But you’re not,” Balthazar replied flatly. “Your surface thoughts can’t hide the monster lurking within, Jeremiah.” The one who happily slaughtered Nythos and rejoiced in his revenge plot. “You’re not a good man.” And he deserved death.

  Rage stirred in the male’s gaze, matching the downward spiral of his thoughts.

  “That only confirms my judgment,” Balthazar murmured with a nod to Aidan. “Do it.”

  “Gladly.” He slit his wrist, pulled down the gag, and forced the blood into the other man’s mouth.

  Aside from coughing and sputtering, Jeremiah didn’t react beyond a few enraged mental barbs aimed at Balthazar. He rose a brow at Luc, who merely shrugged. “It’s either because Aidan is his creator, or their kind isn’t toxic to each other.”

  “I suspect it’s a defense mechanism,” Aidan murmured as he wiped his already healing wrist against Jeremiah’s robes. “It provides a means for the dual-gifted to kill their Sires should the need ever arise, something that could be quite useful against those driven by a thirst for blood.”

  “It could have something to do with the rebirth as well, genetically speaking,” Luc added. He dove into a diatribe regarding scientific properties and gibberish. Balthazar tried to listen but lacked the energy to keep up. The last few days had drained him. All he wanted was to finish with this mess and move on to a new location. This place retained too many intimate memories.

  Luc and Aidan continued their debate while Balthazar focused on Jeremiah. The new immortal glowered right back at him, his mind triumphant at having passed this last test. Too bad for him, this next one wouldn’t be so easy.

  Balthazar retrieved a discarded blade and ran it across his thumb without breaking his stride and placed just the tip at Jeremiah’s mouth.

  “Goodbye,” Balthazar murmured as he pressed the wound to the other man’s tongue.

  That was all it took.

  One drop.

  And the immortal’s head lolled to the side.

  Aidan’s and Luc’s brains erupted in theories, their strategic talents twisting and turning through all their collective knowledge, which provided Balthazar with a colossal headache. He really needed to master the art of tuning people out.

  Just focus on the strands and shut the door…

  But too many exist.

  He lost himself in their maze of puzzles and felt his knees quiver beneath him.

  I just took a life. Two.

  It was the right thing to do. He knew that, felt confident in his decision, but it went against his belief to cherish every second of life. To live in a world of passion and love, to enjoy pleasure and embrace friendship.

  But Jeremiah
wasn’t one who adhered to the same principles. He chose hatred and jealousy, pain and hurt, and murder. He earned his fate.

  …close by… Ichor…

  Sethios was right. His father…

  …run, little mortals, run.

  Balthazar frowned at the unfamiliar voice. Dark. Lethal. Other.

  …last stop… home… Babylon.

  Poor sods don’t stand a chance against Osiris.

  The being’s thought about another suggested his nearby presence, but Balthazar heard no other voice. Still, he sensed the dangerous emotions heading their way and the terror of his village mates.

  Two gods.

  Pray.

  Bringers of death.

  “Have you seen a blond male? Answers to the name of Aidan?”

  Balthazar overheard the question through the thoughts of a terrified human male. His pain traveled down the line seconds later as whoever had requested the information punished the mortal for not responding fast enough.

  He just took his own life!

  By command!

  Run!

  Please don’t see me.

  “We need to maim Jeremiah,” Balthazar said quickly, instinct demanding they hide their newfound discovery. “Now.”

  Aidan and Luc turned wide eyes on him, neither of them aware of what was approaching.

  “Now,” he repeated, his gaze darting to the entrance. “We have company.”

  “How much time?” Luc asked as he untied Jeremiah and laid him flat on the ground.

  “Long enough to make it look like we tortured and killed a mortal,” Balthazar said as he tossed the knife to Luc. “No time to hide him.”

  Aidan’s brow furrowed. “His wounds will be postmortem.”

  “Then I suggest you two come up with something because the two immortals approaching are not friendly,” he replied as he accessed the minds around them again.

  “Can you hear their names?” Aidan asked.

  “One is Osiris, the other I haven’t—”

  Aidan waved him off. “Slit his throat and perform chest compressions. Quickly.”