Dark Stranger The Dream: New & Lengthened 2017 Edition (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Series)

by I. T. Lucas

  But it provided the means to an exit in case he needed one.

  Like a cunning mistress to a rich man, he was accumulating a wealth of marketable goods under the guise of vanity. He had to be smart about it, though, waiting years between each purchase to avoid suspicion. Navuh executed men at a mere hint of sedition or suspected desertion.

  It wasn’t much, and Dalhu wasn’t planning anything yet. But he liked to be prepared as best he could for anything life might throw at him; be it an unforeseen calamity or a great opportunity.

  One never knew what tomorrow might bring.

  “Sir, we are ready to place the call.” Edward, his second, bowed politely, jarring Dalhu from his thoughts.

  Pushing off the couch, he stretched his big body, then jutted his chest out and his chin up. Dalhu was ready for his reward; the rare praise from Navuh.

  As he entered the mansion’s sophisticated media room, Dalhu nodded to the assembled men and walked over to the equipment, making sure the wiring had been set up correctly for the scheduled teleconference.

  Inspect, don’t expect—was a good piece of advice for any leader, more so if one had morons for underlings.

  The equipment worked fine and everything else was ready as well. His men had already cleared a large carpeted area in front of the screen by pushing the overstuffed recliners all the way against the side walls, and were now taking their places on their knees in a compulsory show of respect and devotion to their master; Lord Navuh.

  Dalhu took hold of the keyboard and knelt facing the screen with his men at his back, watching the electronic clock on the side of the screen. He made the call at the precise time it had been scheduled for, sending the request and waiting for it to be acknowledged.

  Several long minutes passed before the face of Navuh’s secretary finally appeared. “Greetings, warriors, please get in position for his Excellency, Lord Navuh.”

  The men prostrated themselves with their foreheads touching the floor and their hands beside their heads, palms down.

  “Our exalted leader; Lord Navuh,” the secretary announced, signaling they could begin the devotion.

  Ten strong voices sounded the chant.

  Glory to Lord Navuh the wise and the just

  In his guidance and mercy we put our trust

  With his bounty we thrive

  By his will we live and we die

  We are all brothers in

  the Devout Order of Mortdh

  In his name we wage this Holy War

  As always, the devotion was repeated three times. When it was done, the men held their position while Dalhu pushed up to his knees and faced his leader.

  “Was your mission successful, warrior?” Navuh asked.

  Addressing Dalhu by the generic term probably meant that Navuh hadn’t bothered to learn his name. Anger flared, but he managed to keep his expression impassive and his tone respectful.

  “It was, my lord, an unparalleled success. We infiltrated the enemies’ secret organization and took out their number one asset, effectively halting any further progress their technological mastery could produce for the foreseeable future. But the victory was even greater than the one we set out to win. The programmer we killed was an immortal. At long last we succeeded, taking out one of our true adversaries. I believe we are closer than ever to uncovering the hornet’s nest. It would be a great honor for my team and myself if your lordship would allow us to stay and hunt them down.” Dalhu bowed his head, touching his forehead to the carpet as he anxiously awaited the praise that was his due.

  “You have done well, as is befitting of my scions. It is a great victory in our ancient war against the corruption and depravity of our mortal enemies. You are to be commended for your bravery and your loyalty to the Holy War. May Mortdh strengthen your hands and harden your hearts, to go forth and deliver his vengeance to the vile and the wicked.”

  Basking in Navuh’s lavish praise, Dalhu and his men commenced the devotion.

  Glory to Lord Navuh the wise and the just

  In his guidance and mercy we put our trust

  With his bounty we thrive

  By his will we live and we die

  We are all brothers in

  the Devout Order of Mortdh

  In his name we wage this Holy War

  As the screen went blank the men rose to their feet, embraced, and clapped each other’s backs.

  Dalhu joined in reluctantly. As their leader, it was unavoidable, even though he didn’t share in their revelry. He was already thinking and planning ahead, something the simpletons were incapable of doing.

  It was the Doomer way. A commander was the brain and his underlings were his feet and his arms. He led and they followed. He wasn’t one of them, not in his heart or his mind. They were beneath him. His to use or dispose of.

  Navuh had not asked about casualties, and Dalhu hadn’t volunteered the information—it wasn’t important—no one cared. But he was short on fighters if he was to go on a hunt for immortals.

  Their kind was notoriously hard to find.

  In close proximity, an immortal male was relatively easy to detect by the tingling awareness that alerted the males to each other’s presence; a built-in warning mechanism that competition was near.

  A female, on the other hand, was nearly impossible to discern.

  Dalhu had never met one. He heard rumors, though. Supposedly, when aroused, an immortal female emitted a unique scent that was distinctly different from the one produced by mortal women. But that necessitated that he found her while she happened to be in that state, and what were the chances of that?

  No wonder one had never been caught.

  How was he going to do it? Where would he start looking?

  He had deduced already that the enemy had a presence in California; in the Bay Area as well as in Los Angeles. The programmer and the professor had to be part of a larger nest. But both areas were huge and densely populated by millions of mortals.

  He needed more clues.

  Tomorrow, he would go and check out the professor’s lab himself. Not that Dalhu was expecting to find her there. Spooked by the failed abduction attempt, the professor wouldn’t dare come back to the university. But others would, and he could ask them some questions. Perhaps someone knew where she lived.

  If they knew nothing, he would check with human resources. The university must have a physical address for her, not the post office box listed everywhere else he’d checked.

  Chapter 26: Syssi

  The morning came all too soon for Syssi.

  Tossing and turning for hours after waking from that dream in the middle of the night, she had finally fallen asleep when the sun had come up. Her alarm had gone off in what seemed like only a few minutes later.

  She felt groggy.

  The headache that had begun in the lab must’ve developed into a full-blown migraine, complete with the symptomatic confusion that accompanied it. As hard as she tried Syssi couldn’t remember how she had gotten home.

  There was a vague memory of Amanda driving her, and she must’ve collapsed on her bed straight away because she was still wearing the clothes from the day before.

  Shuffling to the bathroom, Syssi took them off and dropped them in a dirty pile on the tiled floor, then stepped into the shower. With her head hung low, she let the water soak her hair.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  That numbness refused to wash away. Feeling as flat as the two curtains of dripping wet hair at the sides of her face, Syssi found it a strain even to reach for the shampoo. Going through the motions, she worked it into her scalp and watched the foaming clumps wash down the drain. The laborious process of shampooing her mane had to be done twice, then came the conditioning, once, then soap, then towel.

  Blow-drying all of that hair was exhausting as well. She loved her luxurious mane, but sometimes it was just too much work. Chopping it off would have made her life so much easier.

  Right. Like there was a chance in hell she’
d ever do it. It was the one feature that she was positive was beautiful. The rest? It depended on her mood. Some days she thought she looked pretty good; others? Not so much.

  Her deflated mood meant that today was going to be one of the “not so much.” Not a big deal, she was fine with being just okay and not spectacular.

  Like Amanda.

  Syssi wouldn’t have wanted it. Amanda’s beauty was a burden. It was too much, too intimidating, too restrictive, too isolating. With her confidence and her dramatic flair, Amanda carried it well, but Syssi could have never pulled it off. The stares alone would have sent her running for shelter.

  Syssi shivered. How was Amanda dealing with all that leering, the envy? How did she feel about intimidating the hell out of everyone she came in contact with?

  Being somewhere on the spectrum between okay to pretty was exactly where Syssi was comfortable.

  Eyeing the pile of jeans, she grimaced—too constricting. Shifting her gaze to the comfy yoga pants, she grabbed them instead. Not exactly stylish or appropriate for work, but whatever, she had no energy for anything tight.

  Finishing her unprofessional attire with a plain T-shirt, Syssi plodded barefoot to the stretch of counter that was her kitchen and made herself coffee.

  As she sat at her dining table, still feeling lethargic from the lack of sleep, the prospect of leaving the house and walking to work seemed daunting. She couldn’t bring herself to get going. For some reason, there was an unpleasant feeling churning in her gut, warning her to stay away from the lab.

  It had something to do with Amanda. Maybe it was about her boss’s bitchy mood yesterday. The prospect of spending another work day with a grumpy tyrant was not appealing.

  Still, it might not be about work at all. The sense of loss that had come on the heels of her dream still clung to her, weighing her down like a wet, sticky sludge.

  Except, it couldn’t explain the foreboding. The only thing that made sense to her was that it had something to do with her premonition about Amanda.

  Her phone rang, and Syssi jumped, answering without bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”

  “Syssi, darling, I wanted to tell you that I’m not coming to the lab today.” Amanda produced a very fake sounding cough. “I must’ve caught something. I need you to take over my test subjects for me. I’ll email you the schedule.” Another fake cough.

  “Sure, no problem. I hope you’ll get well soon.”

  “Thank you, darling. Me too. Hopefully by Monday, I’ll be as good as new. A weekend in bed will surely help. Thank God it’s Friday, right?”

  Syssi laughed. “Absolutely. Feel better and don’t forget to stay hydrated.”

  “Of course. Love you, darling. Have a good one.”

  “Love you too.”

  Amanda had been faking it big time. One of the odd things Syssi had noticed about her boss was that she never got sick. Heck, the woman never got tired. She was a work horse. The last flu epidemic had the entire lab surviving on Dayquil and cough drops, but not Amanda. She’d attributed her resilience to the flu shot she’d gotten, but so had everyone else at the lab.

  Her boss was probably arranging a long weekend for herself. Except, why did she feel the need to lie to Syssi about it?

  It had to be guilt. She was leaving Syssi to deal with a double load of test subjects. Not a big deal, she could handle it. But not before she had another cup of coffee, or two.

  Sipping on the fresh cup she’d poured, Syssi popped open her laptop and started going through her emails, when images from the dream tried to push their way into the forefront of her mind. She pushed them back. It was best to ignore them. What was the point of dwelling on something that could never be? The fantasy was better forgotten; else real life would always pale by comparison.

  That erotic dream had come out of nowhere, shaking her conviction that she wasn’t all that sexual.

  Syssi sighed, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt even a spark of desire for a man. Was it possible that she had been repressing her needs while subconsciously yearning to be touched?

  Oh, well, she didn’t have time for all that self-analytical nonsense. She needed to get going or else she’d be late.

  Reluctantly, Syssi closed her laptop and pushed up from her chair. She rinsed out her mug in the sink and then headed to her closet for shoes. But as she reached for a pair, she froze, suddenly seized by an overwhelming sense of dread.

  Something dark and dangerous was looming out there. But what?

  What the hell? Her heart started pounding a crazy beat against her ribcage.

  Trying to overcome her panic attack, she looked for a reasonable explanation for what might’ve triggered it. The wolves chasing her in the dream, the grueling workday she had yesterday, the headache...

  But all along Syssi had known none of these were the real reason. That kind of panic had seized her only once before.

  On the night her brother Jacob had died.

  She had been living in the dorms at the time. Jennifer, her roommate, and Gregg had been there when the panic attack had struck.

  Syssi still remembered that when her phone had rung, she had had her head down between her knees struggling to breathe. Knowing with complete certainty that nothing would ever be the same once she answered that call, she’d let it ring, trying to postpone the inevitable.

  Eventually, Jen had answered it for her…

  “Syssi, sweetheart, it’s your brother...” Jen handed her the phone.

  Andrew’s voice was pained... “It’s Jacob…,” he managed to croak through his choked-up throat. “That damned motorcycle... he was killed on the spot...”

  Syssi sat there, frozen, not really listening to the rest of his words. Her eyes staring into nothing, she felt like her life force was draining out of her, and the cold was spreading from the center of her heart to the rest of her shaking body.

  She was going into shock.

  It had happened over four years ago, and she had spent most of the first two crying.

  It still hurt like hell. Heaving a sigh, Syssi wiped away the few tears that escaped her tightly squeezed eyes.

  If it hadn’t been for Gregg, she wouldn’t have made it. He had been wonderful throughout that ordeal, a real lifesaver. Syssi shivered as she imagined going through all that pain without his help. He had held her for hours while she’d cried, had arranged for someone to take notes at the classes she’d missed, had fed her, had talked to her, and somehow had managed to pull her out of the dark vortex she had been sucked into.

  She wondered if it hadn’t been too much for him to bear at such a young age. Maybe the erosion in their relationship had started then. Could she really blame him? What twenty-year-old wanted a girlfriend who was perpetually sad? Was it possible that he had stayed as long as he had out of pity? Or some misplaced sense of guilt?

  Be that as it may, she would forever be grateful to him for standing by her side in her time of need.

  This was what Andrew failed to understand when he’d accused her of being a softie. After the breakup, she’d been so down that her brother had been convinced Gregg was the worst kind of scumbag. Syssi had no doubt that Andrew would’ve gone after Gregg had she not warned him to leave him alone. But contrary to what Andrew believed, she’d done it not because she was a pushover, but because when it had really mattered, Gregg had been there for her. Everything else that hadn’t worked between them, all her grievances, paled in comparison.

  So yeah, he’d been a jerk at times, and his behavior had left her with some emotional scars. But those weren’t the kind that wouldn’t eventually heal.

  She knew they would. They were there only because she had let them form in the first place. If she’d been stronger, Gregg’s petty jerkiness would’ve bounced off her.

  Forgiveness hadn’t come easy, and it hadn’t happened right away. This wisdom had taken her a long time to acquire.

  She’d been angry for months.

  But letting go of
all that anger had been one of the best things she had done for herself. It had been therapeutic. And realizing that Gregg had earned her forgiveness in the best possible way had been instrumental in that healing.

  Syssi wished him nothing but happiness.

  Hopefully, one day he would find his perfect someone, and when he did, she hoped he would invite her to his wedding. And she would go, gladly, and celebrate with him. After all, they’d shared each other’s lives for four years and parted on good terms. Syssi no longer harbored resentment toward him, and she believed that the same was true for him also.

  Would she invite him to her wedding? Maybe.

  Syssi wasn’t sure Gregg had reached enlightenment the same way she had.

  To be angry was poisonous to the soul, and forgiveness wasn’t easy. But she’d found a way to do it, and not only with Gregg.

  Often, there was at least one good thing or quality that deserved gratitude. Finding this one thing and focusing on it was helpful, it allowed letting go of resentment with ease.

  Syssi chuckled. This was another thing she should be grateful to Gregg for. If not for him, she wouldn’t have learned this valuable lesson.

  She had a feeling that she would have to put this technique to the test again. Letting go of anger was something she would have to deal with in the future.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t a philosophical conclusion. More like a premonition.

  Great.

  Plopping down on the couch, Syssi covered her eyes with her hands, and taking a deep breath, thought back to all of her other premonitions—big and small. There were none she could remember that in one way or another hadn’t come to pass.

  Pushing up to her feet, she walked over to the kitchen counter and snatched the phone off its cradle.

  “What’s wrong?” Andrew answered right away.

  It was such a relief to hear his voice that she plopped back on the couch. “Nothing yet. I had a bad feeling and wanted to check that if you were all right.”