by I. T. Lucas
No one was taking him away from her. Not even God. And if she was committing blasphemy by thinking like that, it was in the name of love, and therefore excusable. At least she hoped it was.
Damn, she wished Andrew had never found out about being a Dormant. Or that she might be one as well. Then he would not have been contemplating this transition that sounded like an ingrained invitation for that big guy with the scythe.
But then, they would have never met. The only reason she had Andrew in her life was that he’d been asked to search for her by Bhathian—her biological, immortal father.
Chapter 3: Robert
I can’t stand it anymore.
Robert clamped both hands over his ears. Listening to Carol’s gut-wrenching sobs was tearing him apart. She’d been at it on and off for hours. It was almost as bad as the screams. The door to his ‘office’—the pantry with his desk in it—was closed, which meant that if someone came in he would have a split second notice to assume his regular pose. A guy hunched over his laptop, with a bunch of ledgers and loose notes littering the rest of his desk.
In truth, he wasn’t all that busy. There wasn’t that much to do, but it was good to appear as if he was.
Sebastian appreciated hard work.
Damn, Robert despised the sadistic son of a bitch with an unprecedented fervor.
He’d never liked Sebastian. But when the guy had handpicked him to be his assistant, Robert had been flattered. Sebastian was well known for treating his men well, or at least fairly, and the guy was smart. Robert had hoped to learn from him. Naturally, he’d been aware of the rumors—it wasn’t as if Sebastian was trying to hide his sexual preferences. On the contrary, he flaunted them. But as long as Robert hadn’t witnessed his commander’s depravity, he could pretend it didn’t bother him.
He could no longer do that.
It bothered him now. A lot.
Before Letty, Sebastian had been indulging in his kink away from the base, going to that private club where other monsters like him went to abuse women. The only difference was that the women were supposedly willing. Though Robert couldn’t wrap his head around it. Who in their right mind would want to get whipped and fucked by a stranger? And as far as he knew, the women didn’t even do it for money.
Insanity.
Poor Letty. Such a nice girl. Sebastian had been brutal with her, but that was nothing compared to what he was doing to Carol. When mortality was of no concern, Sebastian’s cruelty knew no limits.
She was such a soft little thing. Looked so fragile. His heart was breaking every time he’d go into her cell to deliver her meals and see the state she was in.
Her immortal body was resilient, thank Mortdh for that. But at this rate, her mind was going to snap. No one could suffer what she was going through day after day and not lose their shit.
He had to help her.
Springing her free was impossible. But he might be able to ease her pain. The last time he’d been on club patrol he’d made some purchases. For Carol. Something to numb the pain.
Robert hoped that what he’d bought was legit. He was clueless as far as these things went. A straight arrow, he never drank, never smoked, and never used drugs. Using went against the code of conduct of a Doomer, but it wasn’t strictly prohibited. The commanders allowed it as along as it was kept under wraps and no one lost their shit. It just didn’t appeal to him. Why muddle his faculties when it was difficult enough to perform all that was required of him when operating on his full brain power? Robert wasn’t the brightest guy, Tom could run circles around him, but he was the most hardworking and dedicated of each and every last soldier in this place.
At the end of the day, perseverance and grit counted for more than intelligence. Or at least Robert liked to think it did.
There was another advantage to his straight-arrow but not too bright reputation. Sebastian would never suspect him of anything. Even if Robert reeked of anxiety, there would be nothing new about it. He was always nervous around his commander.
Behind the charming smiles and the soft voice lurked a monster. Robert had seen it at work, and so had the other men handpicked by Sebastian to serve with him here. Carol’s screams could be heard all over the building, and a hush would fall over the men until the screaming stopped; either because Sebastian was done or because Carol could scream no more. Some would joke about it, dismiss it as nothing, as the commander’s due, but Robert had seen the resentment in the eyes of others.
None of the men was guilt free, they were all using the girls imprisoned down in the basement, himself included. But according to the teachings of Mortdh, that was what females were for. Still, there was a difference, a big one, between having gentle sex with a woman and ensuring that she enjoyed it, and what Sebastian had been doing to Letty and now to Carol. Or at least Robert liked to think that there was.
Robert thought of himself as a good man. He wasn’t a monster like Sebastian, and he was going to do something about it even though he was terrified of the consequences. Sebastian would flay his skin off piece by piece if he ever found out, not leaving enough of him to bury.
So just make sure never to get caught.
Robert pushed up to his feet and stretched, reaching for the container of barley on the top shelf. He’d hidden his contraband inside the tin can, knowing no one was going give the barley a second glance. It wasn’t something the men would think of cooking. So until Sebastian got that cook he’d been promising them, it was the safest place to hide the thing.
But now he had a problem. He’d dropped the little white pills inside the grain and then shaken it before putting it up on the shelf. Finding the two he needed for today was taking him too long.
What if someone walked in and saw him with his hand deep inside the barley? What excuse could he give? Anyone would know that he’d been up to something.
Damn, it had seemed such a good hiding place, but he would need to find a better one. Somewhere that was easily accessible and yet hidden, and not where anyone could walk in on him.
Later.
Sebastian had left with Tom that morning, and they wouldn’t be back until after lunch. They were meeting some radio station owner who was looking into selling the thing.
This was the perfect time to give Carol her present and then find a new hiding place for her pills.
Putting the two he fished out of the barley in his pocket, Robert went out into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the girls. He would start with the others and keep Carol for last so he could stay with her for a few minutes.
Breakfast was an easy affair; cereal, cut fruit, two pieces of toast and orange juice. But there were seventeen human girls in the basement, and one immortal, and each got her own tray.
Usually, he stayed a little in each room, chatting with the girls to find out if they were comfortable, and if they needed anything. But today he had no patience for it. Trouble was, to avoid suspicion he needed to behave exactly the same as he had every other day.
When he exited the last room, Robert wanted to sigh with relief but didn’t. He could not allow himself any behavior that was out of the ordinary. Everything needed to seem the same.
Still, he’d taken extra care with Carol’s tray, heaping it with more food and adding a thermos with coffee. But that was okay. She was the commander’s toy and therefore deserved better. Besides, the poor thing needed the extra energy.
Balancing the tray on one hand, Robert knocked twice before entering, same way he did in front of every room, just to let the girls know that he was coming in.
Most greeted him with a hello, or a come in, but not Carol. As usual, she lay on her side, facing the wall, and didn’t acknowledge his presence.
He needed her to look at him so he could sneak her the pills. There were surveillance cameras in all the rooms, recording sound as well as visual. Standing in a spot where he was blocking the only camera in this room with his back, Robert took care of the visual, but there was nothing he could do about the sound.
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“I brought your breakfast. The strawberries are fresh and juicy, and so is the peach. Would you like me to pour you coffee?” It was more than he’d ever said to her before. He’d been too ashamed and guilt-ridden to try and strike up a conversation. Hopefully, she’d notice the difference and turn around.
When she didn’t, he snuck his hand into his front pocket and then lifted a strawberry off the plate. “Here, I want you to taste it. I’m sure you’ve never had something as good before.”
Talking to her like that, Robert was taking a risk, but he was running out of options, and he was already spending too long in her room.
Finally she responded, turning her head and pinning him with a pair of blue eyes that were big and round and so innocent that they cut straight into his heart. But she was looking at his face, not his hand.
“Look how big it is, and how red. I bet it will render you speechless.” He shoved his hand in front of him, careful that it was still hidden by his body.
Carol’s beautiful face revealed her puzzlement, but she glanced down at what he was holding in his hand, then jerked her head back up.
Don’t say anything, just take them. They are for the pain, he mouthed.
She nodded imperceptibly and lifted her small hand to take his offering, closing her fingers around the strawberry and the two Percocet pills.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s very kind of you to bring me such beautiful fruit.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. And tomorrow I’ll bring you more. If not strawberries, then another succulent fruit.”
She nodded again, letting him know that she understood his meaning.
Take them right before. But you need to keep pretending it hurts the same, he mouthed.
She nodded again, her reddish-blonde curls bouncing around her small face.
“Thank you,” she said aloud and turned around to face the wall again.
Smart girl.
Anything else would’ve been out of character for her.
Chapter 4: Nathalie
“Good morning, Papi, did you sleep well?” Nathalie asked when her father came down to the kitchen.
He sidled up to her and kissed her cheek. “As well as can be expected.” Shuffling away, he sat at his designated spot in the kitchen, where his breakfast and his morning paper were waiting for him.
Nathalie frowned. That shuffle was getting worse. Not only that, but Papi also looked a little thinner. He was still overweight, just a little bit less. Fernando losing weight would have made her happy a few years back, but now it was a reason for concern. Just another sign of the dementia that was creeping up slowly but surely and destroying yet another piece of him.
With a sigh, Nathalie turned back to her work station and the sandwich she’d been making before Papi had come down.
Funny, all her life she’d been convinced that she looked more like her father than her mother, when in fact Fernando hadn’t contributed any of the genes in her mix. Pausing with the piece of lettuce in hand, she glanced at him again.
The only real resemblance was their coloring, which her mother shared as well. His eyes were shaped differently than hers, and so was his nose. Only their lips were similar, not in shape but in thickness. They both had full lips.
Did he know? This was the question that bothered her most. Had he married her mother not knowing she was pregnant? Or had he known all along?
Problem was, she couldn’t ask him. He might not remember. Besides, bringing up a subject like that would distress him. Her questions would have to wait for her mother to be found.
“Hey, Nathalie, is that sandwich ready?” Jackson came in and dropped a tray of dirty dishes into the sink.
Shit, this wasn’t the time to think about things like that, she had work to do. “Give me another moment,” she told Jackson as she heaped coleslaw and salad on the plate then decorated it with slices of cut pickle. “Here you go.” She handed Jackson the plate. “Anything else?”
“No. That was the only sandwich. All the other orders were cappuccinos and baked goodies. You can take a break.”
“Thank you, boss,” she said.
Most of the time, Nathalie appreciated all that Jackson was doing for her and her business. Sometimes, though, when he behaved as if he owned the place and she was the one working for him and not the other way around, she was ready to kick him out.
Well, not really. She needed him.
“You’re welcome.” The kid smirked and headed out.
Ugh, Nathalie’s hand itched to smack the arrogant immortal over the head. Now that she knew he and Vlad were immortals, some things became clear. Like Vlad’s incredible strength, and Jackson’s inexhaustible stamina.
Poor Vlad, no wonder he looked like a cross between a human, a snake, and a vampire. This was in a nutshell what he was. Still, Jackson came from the same family and he was movie-star gorgeous. Question was whether the guy was so full of himself because he belonged to a superior race of beings, or because he was so incredibly good looking?
Probably the good looks. He would’ve been just as cocky if he were a human. Getting too much female attention would’ve inflated any guy’s ego.
Nathalie shrugged and took off her apron.
If Jackson wanted to play at being boss, she’d let him. Let him experience how hard it was to do everything by himself when the place filled up with people. Because that was what bosses did. They had to handle stuff others had the luxury of refusing to deal with.
“Papi, I’m going out on a short errand, but Vlad and Jackson are here if you need anything.”
“Who is Vlad?”
“That would be me.” Vlad paused from washing dishes and waved with a sudsy hand.
“Oh.” Fernando pretended that he knew who Vlad was. “You can go, Nathalie. I’ll just finish the paper and head upstairs for my show. It starts in a few minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “Seven minutes to be exact.”
Memory was a funny thing. Fernando couldn’t remember who Vlad was even though the kid was there every day, but he had no problem remembering the schedules of all his shows.
Nathalie retrieved her purse from one of the kitchen cabinets and slung it over her shoulder. “Tell Jackson I went to the bank, okay?”
Vlad frowned and then nodded.
Damn, she had forgotten all about the immortals’ enhanced senses. Vlad had smelled the lie on her. Whatever, she didn’t need to tell him that she just needed to get away for a little while, find a quiet spot to sit, preferably somewhere that was green, like under a tree, and just think.
“I won’t be gone for long.” She got out through the back door and locked it behind her. Vlad had a key and so did Jackson.
Walking down the street by herself felt oddly liberating. It was mid-morning and no one beside her was taking a stroll. The traffic was sparse as well, which meant that it was quiet. A nice change from the busy clamor of the café.
The further away she got, the easier her breathing became. Nathalie felt relaxed. Hell, she hadn’t been aware of being tense. Though come on, after the recent revelations she would’ve been crazy not to feel some sort of distress. Her destination, a public park, was another street over and as she reached it she headed straight for her favorite spot. A bench shaded by a big oak tree. Usually, she came here with Papi. He liked to sit down and watch the moms and their babies playing in the sandbox. It was too early for that, and the park was deserted, same as the streets leading to it.
Nathalie sat down, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Ah, the smell of fresh grass, such a nice change from the cooking and baking smells of the café, not to mention that she finally had some quiet time for herself.
It didn’t last long, though. She felt the pressure a fraction of a moment before she heard the voice in her head.
I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is something I really need to tell you.
“What is it, Sage?”
I figured it out. I know why I’m still her
e.
“Oh, yeah?”
Someone I care about needs my forgiveness. I believe that once I tell her I’m not angry with her, and that I want her to have a good life with the one fate has chosen for her, I could finally cross over to the other side.
For some reason, the idea of Sage going away and never coming back made her sad. Perhaps he was wrong?
“Are you sure? The last time we talked you had no idea who you were. What jogged your memory?”
I apologize for eavesdropping, but as I listened to what Andrew and Bhathian were telling you last night, it all sounded oddly familiar to me. I wasn’t surprised at all to learn about immortals. In fact, I realized that I’ve been one.
“But you’re dead, Sage. If you were an immortal you would be alive.”
Actually, it’s Mark. And unfortunately immortals can be killed in several ways. Decapitation or cutting out the heart is one, a deadly dose of venom is the other.
Nathalie’s hand clapped over her mouth as bile rose up her throat. “Please tell me you didn’t have your head cut off or your heart cut out.”
No, I was murdered by a Doomer, that what we call the followers of Mortdh. He pumped me with enough venom to stop my heart—permanently.
It sounded a bit less horrible than the first two options, but it must’ve taken a while for the poisonous venom to do its work. “You must’ve been terrified.” Nathalie shivered.
Not really. The thing about our venom is that it has a euphoric side effect. Great for sex, by the way. When Andrew turns, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.
Nathalie felt herself blush. It was good that he couldn’t see her unless she was facing a mirror. The last thing she wanted was to talk about her sex life with Sage. Mark, she corrected herself. Having him in her head was intrusive enough, thank you very much. A change of subject was in order.
“You said something about telling someone you’re not mad at her. Who is this woman that needs your forgiveness and why?”
