Damian's Immortal (War of Gods 3)

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Damian's Immortal (War of Gods 3) Page 10

by Lizzy Ford


  “Where are we?” Jonny asked.

  “Pacific northwest,” Xander answered. “At one of your compounds.”

  “I was thinking Miami,” the Black God admitted. “I’m not used to cold weather.”

  “This is the safest place you could be, but whatever you desire, I will obey.”

  “No, no, this is fine. It looks safe. I just need to rest.”

  Xander stepped aside and Jonny walked through the front door. Jenn started forward, not surprised when the vamp blocked her path.

  “You got a problem with me?” she demanded.

  “A huge one.”

  “I’ll be gone in three and a half weeks. Deal with it.” She brushed by him.

  “Do you spar, Guardian?” he called after her.

  “Not with vamps.”

  “Shame.”

  She faced him. “Why is that?”

  “You make a good adversary.”

  “Of all the Guardians out there, how did I end up your personal adversary?”

  “You’re the first Guardian I’ve ever met without killing. I’m curious.”

  “Likewise, but I intend to kill you before this is over,” she told him. “Although, not before I find out what you are.”

  “There’s no mystery to what I am.”

  “You’re no more loyal to Jonny than I am. You survived whatever it was he did, because you aren’t a vamp. You’re feeding him information that he somehow accepts as truth.”

  The massive vamp crossed his arms and drew closer as she spoke. He stopped within arms’ reach.

  “Imagine what I could tell him about you.” His threat was a low growl.

  “What do you want, Xander?”

  “I want to know why a Guardian is so interested in protecting a Black God. Personalizing a mission gets people killed.”

  “It’s not personal,” she replied. “I was sent to train him, and I will complete my mission.”

  “What was your first thought when you felt the power surge?”

  I hope Jonny’s okay. She clenched her jaw.

  “Your feelings are in the way,” he continued.

  He gripped her forearm. She snapped into motion, but he deflected her next strike as easily as he had those of the vamps he killed. The vamp snatched the phone from her pocket and stepped away, hands raised. Furious, her glare went from the phone in his hand to his gaze.

  “You’re on your own now. Let’s see if you can make it through the month,” he said and dropped the cell. He smashed it with his heel.

  Jenn strode into the compound. She wasn’t afraid to be alone. She’d been deep undercover in much worse situations. Xander, however, was a complication she’d never before run across. He wouldn’t respond to her mind manipulation attempts, and he was able to control Jonny. She had nothing but charisma and the knowledge the Black God was fond of her.

  Neither of those things would matter when dealing with Xander.

  Vamps growled as she passed them but made no move to impede her. At the far end of the main floor of Jonny’s new home glowed a panoramic window fitted into the mountainside. Chairs lined the window, and she saw why. The window overlooked the neighboring mountain, coated in white with clouds clinging to its peak. Jonny had been drawn to the view as she was and stood before the window.

  Jenn didn’t approach, instead sinking into the shadows of one of the many pillars providing support all along the main floor. She didn’t know what Xander was, but he’d said one thing that struck her hard.

  She really had personalized the mission. She’d defended the Black God, a young man she knew was partly in love with her, against his own kind. The training was part of what Damian wanted her there to do, and she mixed training with good old-fashioned spy techniques. She was learning as much about the Black God’s organization as she could, from numbers of vamps to locations of their compounds to the Black God’s own skills.

  Jonny had entrusted her with a lot. Aside from assigning Xander to keep an eye on her, the Black God hadn’t restricted her access to anything. She’d taken in everything she could, like any good operative would. But pitying him, defending him, helping him command his own men …

  The vamp was right, and she hated to admit it. She was near the line of what she was there to do, if not over it. She’d been one of the first Guardians to talk to Jonny weeks ago, before his transformation to the Black God. He’d been a good kid, lost, but honorable. He became the Black God instead of letting his sister die. She still saw him as the lost kid that could be saved, not the Black God who was past salvation of any kind.

  What she didn’t understand was why a vamp would consider it his job to remind her of her mission. Something was wrong in the Black God’s camp, and she couldn’t figure out what. Xander crossed to the Black God. The two spoke for a few moments before Xander bowed his head and walked away.

  Jenn followed him this time. Vamps moved out of his way as he strode through the halls, and several bowed their heads as he passed. They showed more respect for him during his short trip down the hall than they had for the Black God during the few days she’d been with Jonny. Xander knew the compound and ascended a narrow stairwell to the second floor. She watched from the stairwell as he entered one of the rooms, lining the hall. She waited, but he didn’t emerge again. Satisfied to have found his room, Jenn made her way back to the window, where Jonny remained. He sat and stared out the window while nibbling on a piece of cheese from the plate of cheese and crackers on a small table at his side.

  Unwilling to disturb his solitary mood, Jenn leaned back against a pillar and watched.

  * * *

  By the time she reached the cliff Jule indicated the next day, Yully’s soul was humming like an electric wire. She could now feel everything around her, and she assumed whatever her father unlocked was the cause.

  She was late by an hour. Only two forms and a body draped in black remained on the cliff side. Fog coated the ocean, and a cold, moist wind made her eyes water. She shivered despite her lamb’s wool coat, her hands plunged deep into pockets that contained weapons.

  The closer she stepped to Jule, the more her body hummed. Something had happened during their separation; he glowed in the fog and mist. Unable to take her eyes from him, she approached slowly. His long, sleek hair was tied in a tight braid, and despite the cold and wind he wore only a long-sleeved sweater that hugged the muscles of his arms and shoulders beneath a down vest. His suede pants clung to long, thick thighs and were tucked into heavy boots.

  She didn’t remember him being so large. The closer she got, the stronger she felt him. Startled by the bond, she stopped.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said without turning.

  “I did it for Sean,” she replied. “I’d known him for a few years, even if it was only in passing.”

  “He would appreciate it. I do, too,” Jule said then motioned to the blond man. “This is Rourk, my other Guardian assigned to Ireland.”

  Her eyes went to the beefy blond. He tipped his head in a silent greeting. His face was solemn.

  “Come closer,” Jule said in a quiet voice.

  She did, stepping apprehensively to the foot of Sean’s body. He was tightly wrapped in black fabric, his head towards the ocean.

  “We have an old tradition, dating back to the time before the mortal and immortal worlds were split,” Jule said. “There are three of us who can release a Guardian’s soul.” He knelt beside Sean’s body as he spoke.

  “What happens if they’re not released?” she asked.

  “They’re imprisoned in their bodies for eternity. They know no peace.”

  Her throat tightened at his words. She couldn’t help thinking of all the Guardians buried in her yard. Jule’s next words were low and in a tongue she didn’t understand. The hand he rested on Sean’s forehead glowed bright in the fog. Jule’s hand grew too bright to look at directly, and a small ball formed in his palm. He tossed it in the air, and it dissipated into sparkles that floated upwar
d.

  Sean’s body collapsed beneath the blanket, and the ocean’s wind whipped the cloth into the air. Rourk snatched it before it flew away.

  “Farewell, brother,” he said.

  Yully wiped her eyes, touched by the scene before her. Rourk passed her, the blanket clenched in his arms. She watched him go before facing Jule. Jule’s eyes glinted with the magic in his body, and the air around him shimmered in a different power than that of her father. Jule’s felt ancient, older than the energy in the cliffs and ocean combined.

  He approached her, and she took a step back. He stopped in front of her and gazed down at her with quiet intensity. He didn’t touch her, but the magics sparked between them.

  “What made you come?” he asked

  She wiped her eyes again, overwhelmed by his presence yet comforted by the flow of energy between them. He wasn’t like anyone else; she didn’t have to try to feel his magic. It flowed between them: balanced, calm, powerful.

  “It seemed right,” she said at last. “I couldn’t … I didn’t know my father did this. At least I could pay my respects.”

  “Sean wasn’t the first.”

  “I know,” she said with some anger. “I know what he is. I’m sorry for your loss, Jule, but my father, he’s all I have. He took me in when no one else would, and he protected me.”

  “From Guardians, like Sean, who are sworn to protect people like you.”

  “Look at me, Jule.” She indicated the new bruises on her face and neck. “No one could protect me against him if I betrayed him.”

  “I can.” His words were confident and soft.

  He spoke the truth, just as her father lied to her. The man before her was unwavering, and she had the impression of everything she was not and everything she needed to be whole. The ache within her deepened at the idea of trusting someone for the first time in her life, and the energy flowing between them grew more intense. Jule wouldn’t hit her as her father did.

  But there was another reason she dared not leave her father, one she feared voicing even to the man before her. Her father was planning something that depended on her magic. If she was the only one who could help him, she was also the only one who could stop him.

  “I can’t do it, Jule,” she said. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

  He broke the barrier between them and touched her face. Her breath caught, and he pulled her into his body. She braced herself for a flood of his power, but it didn’t come. Instead, the sense of a shared soul and magic returned. Her tortured thoughts went to the thousands of men, killed by the only family she’d known, whose souls were trapped for eternity beneath the ground.

  Suddenly, the cold roar of the wind gave way to warmth and quiet. She lifted her head from his chest, surprised to find them back in the cottage. The pot-bellied stove crackled with burning wood, and a light in the corner made the cottage feel even cozier.

  Jule forced himself to put some space between them. It took more effort than he thought to break the otherworldly connection binding them. He felt cold as soon as he stepped away, and the urge to touch her again thrummed through his body.

  The Magician looked around, confused, before recognition crossed her features. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her green eyes showing her torment and her magic like a halo around her. One of her eyes was black from a blow, and the sight infuriated him. They’d both changed dramatically in the two days they were apart, and he wasn’t sure it was for the better. At least, he was finding it harder to resist her strange magic every time they met. She sat on the couch, and he sat opposite her in the armchair. While only three feet apart, the space felt immeasurable. Her pain was raw, yet there was mettle in her backbone if she’d gone to Sean’s funeral, fully knowing her own father killed the Guardian.

  “I thought we should talk,” he started. “I’m beginning to understand why the … why your father wants you. It’s not gonna be a good thing, if you stay with him.”

  “I know this already,” she replied in a tight voice. “Jule, can the souls of those long dead still be freed, even if they’re trapped in the ground?”

  “How many has he killed?”

  “Tens of thousands.” Her voice caught.

  Floored, he was quiet. She looked up at last, her eyes glimmering with tears.

  “He said he had to kill them or they’d kill me. I didn’t know until last night,” she went on.

  Jule rose and paced to the window. Dread settled into his stomach. Even when he’d been in the immortal realm, no one crossed a Watcher or Other. The number of beings capable of killing one was less than five, and the last thing they needed was an Original Being showing up to complicate matters.

  Xander. He couldn’t shake the sense it hadn’t been a dream.

  “I can feel them,” she said in a whisper.

  Hearing the heartbreak in her voice, Jule found his resolve to keep his distance melt. He crossed to the couch and sat beside her.

  “They can be freed,” he assured her. “I just need to know where they are, so I can free them.”

  Relief crossed her features. She raised her eyes to his, her breathing uneven. He felt her turmoil through their bond and ached to ease her pain. Her green eyes pierced him to the core, and a light flush spread across her skin. He could see himself becoming addicted to the energy flowing between them. It only seemed natural for them to sit next to each other, and what would feel more natural would probably scare her off.

  Her eyes went to his lips. This time, she broke the space between them. She touched his jaw with cold fingertips, and the bond between them opened. Jule took her hands in his and rested them on his thigh.

  “Careful,” he whispered. “Whatever is between us is only getting stronger.”

  “You feel it, too.”

  “Yes.”

  “I feel safe with you, Jule, and it terrifies me. I keep telling myself it can’t be real,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  “It’s very real,” he said.

  “My father will kill us.”

  He understood her fear. If he crossed an Other, he knew exactly what the risk was. The woman before him was just discovering her power and was on the leash of a creature that knew neither compassion nor mercy. Jule hesitated only a moment longer before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

  She leaned into him, yielding as the intensity of the bond between them grew hot and demanding. Whatever she’d accidentally done to him in the alley, she’d sealed them together in a way he never thought possible. Their souls already linked, all that was left was for their bodies to become one as well.

  “Stay with me, and he’ll never hurt you again,” he whispered against her lips. “I swear it.”

  “You can’t stop what comes, Jule. Only I can,” she replied. “I can’t stay more than tonight.”

  Her words lit his blood on fire, and he eased her back against the couch, their magics swirling around them.

  * * *

  Yully slept deeply until the next morning and awoke rested. The bedroom in the cottage was chilly with the door to the living room closed. The first thing she felt was the bond to Jule, who was in the next room. It was warm and sweet, like a summer rain. Their lovemaking seemed to cement what was between them. Without touching him, she still felt the ebb and flow of energy.

  Her father would notice her absence.

  Yully rose and dressed herself, preparing herself mentally to tell Jule she had to leave him. Her hand rested on the doorknob. Their bond felt permanent, and she had no idea what to do about it. She opened the door. He reclined on the couch, shirtless. Her eyes fell to his frame, and she took him in with hunger and appreciation. He looked up as she exited the bedroom. His gaze was calm and intense, and she flushed beneath his scrutiny.

  “You’re leaving,” he said before she could speak.

  “I’m afraid I must.”

  “I brought your car.”

  A heavy silence fell, and she met his gaze finally. She wasn’t sure wha
t she expected from him, but she was relieved to see he was neither angry nor sad. Desire rose within her, and she suppressed it with effort. Her body ached to feel whole again, as she had last night in his arms. She felt the sense of being centered for the first time in her life and knew it was because of the man before her.

  “It wasn’t the last time,” he said with a small smile.

  “Jule …” she said with a frown.

  “I told you once, sweetheart. I’ll always come for you.”

  “Yully. My name is Yully Hughes.”

  “Nice to meet you finally, Yully Hughes.” He rose with feline grace from the couch and approached, hand outstretched.

  She took it, and he pulled her in for a hug that made her sigh.

  “Run where you will, Yully. I’ll find you.”

  “I don’t know what to think about that,” she admitted.

  “Consider it a fact.”

  “And when my father finds you lurking in the bushes beneath my window?”

  He released her and pulled free the necklace around his neck. Yully eased away as he placed it around her neck. She touched it, as thrilled to wear his symbol as she had been her father’s. She lifted both coins and looked down.

  “The stars in the center mark the generation of an immortal’s bloodline. One being the first.”

  “You’re third generation,” she said.

  “The oldest. The first two generations are extinct, from a time before time. Admittedly, I’m the youngest of the oldest immortals and the only immortal on Earth of my generation.”

  “My father is fifth generation,” she mused.

  “Another ancient bloodline. There are few of us. Anyway, this is to remind you there’s always a safe place for you, whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.” She squeezed the coins in her hand. “I have to go.”

  He kissed her forehead and stepped away.

 

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