Immortal Truths
An Angel and Her Demons: Book Two
Lacey Carter Andersen
Contents
Dedication
Connect With Lacey
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Also By Lacey Carter Andersen
About the Author
Copyright 2020
Published by Lacey Carter Andersen
Cover by Andreea
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Dedication
To my readers—thank you for reading my stories.
~ Lacey Carter Andersen
Connect With Lacey
Want to be part of the writing process? Maybe even get a taste of my sense of humor? Teasers for my new releases? And more?
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Website: https://laceycarterandersen.net
1
Many years ago…
Mark was just a boy when he came upon the forbidden waters in the sanctuary. The small pond, surrounded by a garden imbued with druid magic, was only for the Immortals to bathe within. Every druid knew that, from the time they could walk. And yet, he was drawn to this place. He always had been.
Mark stared into the simple pool, transfixed. When he set his staff down in the greenery, the plants rose from where they lay, curling around him like favorite pets. They tangled in greeting with the plants that grew upon his brown robe. Mark smiled and stroked the green leaves, reassuring them.
I’m not here to cause trouble.
The elders were busy, and for the first time since he could remember, no one was in this sacred place. I can finally get close enough to investigate.
He had no intention of touching the waters. Touching them meant death to any but the Immortals. He only wanted to look, to see why they called to him.
He told his father once that magic pulled him to it, that he had dreams of the water calling his name.
His father had placed a strong hand on his shoulder. “Druids are rare and precious things. There are few of us left. You are the only child to be born from your generation, and you will one day be responsible for protecting this sacred place and for leading your people.”
“But the waters—“
“Are not calling to you.” His father’s words left no room for arguments. “We druids do not interfere with the destiny of the world. We are here only to keep this place safe.”
“But why? You said the Immortals are long gone, and that Caine will rule forever. So if this place has no destiny, and we have no role to play in all of it, why does this place still exist? Why do we protect it?”
His father smiled, one of his rare smiles, and rubbed his son’s head. “My son, always so full of questions and curiosity. You make your father very proud.”
He smiled up at the man he worshipped with everything in him. The man who was all the family he had after his mother’s death. “And the answers to my questions?”
The old druid knelt down. “We keep this place sacred because it’s our role. It has always been our role. The long dead Immortals change none of that. We are one of only a handful of beings that remember a time before him—a time before he wiped the world of its memories. And so, we must remain here, and remember, but we take no action. Do you understand?”
He didn’t understand. What did it all matter if they kept this place safe for nothing? If they used their powers for nothing? What was the point in weaving their magic into sacred lands that Caine and his followers could never reach, if they had no one to protect?
But his father rose, and walked away, leaving him with troubling thoughts. He knew as a druid his job was to obey, and yet, even then, the waters called to him. They whispered of a destiny not yet fulfilled. And yet, he didn’t understand.
So now, with the elders finally busy, he knelt before the waters, hoping the sacred liquid would finally answer his questions. His fingers ached to touch the waters, to skim his fingertips across the top. Instead, he curled his fingers into his palm and stretched his senses out, feeling the power humming from his staff beside him, warming him.
He stared and stared. And yet, nothing happened. Nothing changed.
I guess my dreams of Immortals and destiny are nothing but that… dreams.
Grasping the handle on his staff, he rose. But to his horror, the top of his staff brushed the waters.
Heart beating fast, he looked between where the liquid slid down the dark wood of his most sacred item. Would the waters destroy it?
Beneath him, the pool began to bubble.
He took a step back, watching with wide eyes as the bubbles rose sharply, and then collapsed, leaving the water absolutely still.
A woman’s face appeared in the pool. Her hair was golden, and it flowed down her bare shoulders. Her eyes were strange… so powerful that they seemed to call to him.
“I am Atropos, the Fate of the past. And you, young druid, are going to change the world.”
He couldn’t speak, nor could he move. He simply stood, rooted in place, staring down at the face of a powerful being.
“Your role will not be easy, little one. In fact, we place a great deal on your shoulders. But believe me, it’s necessary. You’re the only one who can do it.”
“What?” he whispered, the word slipping past his lips.
“You will take our gift, and you will learn how to use it. And when the time is right, you shall find the Immortals and overthrow Caine.”
He inched closer to her. For some reason, he wasn’t afraid. Her words rang true down to his very soul. This is what the water had wanted from him all along. This is what his dreams had meant.
Her beautiful face curled into the saddest smile. “I’m sorry for the heartbreak this will cause. I’m sorry for how you will suffer. But Lachey, my sister, told me, long before her disappearance, that you will be rewarded in the end with the most precious thing in this world: love.”
Mark stared, unsure what to say.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The waters rose up like a hand and grasped him, dragging him down. He was trapped beneath the water, struggling for his life. For the first time, he knew real terror as bubbles of air left his mouth.
But there, before him, a necklace lifted
up from the waters. It glowed softly, with an ancient magic. And the stone in the center glistened. It moved to encircle his neck, dropping onto him with a weight that surprised him.
He expected to escape the waters then, but he remained. Struggling, drowning, in fear for his life, until everything went black.
When he awoke, his people stood around him, the boy soaking wet beside a pool destined for Immortals. The pool would have killed any other creature, yet he was alive.
He tried to tell them, to show them, but none of them could see the necklace. He spoke of the Fate and his role in the future. He tried to convince them of what he knew.
The people drew away from him in fear, but he couldn’t stop sharing the message from the Fate. Days passed. Weeks passed.
At last, he was brought before the elders, before his father, to learn his fate.
They’d determined that he’d lost his mind. That he’d never fallen into the sacred waters. That he had no necklace, and no destiny.
And that he also no longer had a place amongst them.
When his father took Mark’s staff, Mark didn’t know what to expect. A staff was like a druid’s soul, carved for them at their birth. It grew as they grew, and it became more powerful as they did.
So as he stared at his father with the innocent eyes of a child, he didn’t know what to expect. When his father cracked his staff over his leg, the sound echoed through his very soul. He screamed and collapsed onto his knees, clawing at his chest until blood ran down his flesh.
When he lay upon the ground, scared in a way that no one could ever understand, the elders lifted him, while his father explained his exile. They carried him out of the sacred sanctuary, beyond the barrier that safeguarded their protected lands, and they dumped him beside a road.
None of them looked back as he called their names and wept.
Instead, he was a child alone in a world he didn’t understand, with the weight of the world around his neck.
Right then, he didn’t think about how he would find the Immortals or how he would defeat Caine. He only cried and begged for his father. Because even with such responsibility, he was just a boy.
2
Surcy stretched out her arms and legs, feeling the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. Her hands reached out further and further. For one glorious moment, she felt like she was flying. She even imagined her wings stretching out behind her. And it was… beautiful. Perfect.
But those aren’t my wings. Just hard concrete.
Her eyes opened, and she felt the building beneath her back. Of course she wasn’t flying. She was an angel with no wings.
Tears tracked down her cheeks. Lying on the roof was the closest that she came to feeling like an angel again. And it was just pathetic.
Why can’t I stop? Why can’t I just accept that I’ll never be the same again?
A tingle ran down her spine. Her gaze moved and connected with Tristan’s. He sat on the edge of their home like he was truly a gargoyle, made of stone, even in his human form. His mismatched eyes held a wealth of emotion for one painful moment, before he closed them. When he opened them once more, he was devoid of all emotion.
Gargoyles are far too good at hiding the way they feel.
And too quiet.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, wiping away her tears.
He rose out of his crouch, still standing on the edge of the building. In the early morning sun, he was like a god. He was tall and muscular, huge in a way that only a gargoyle or a demon could be. His long dark hair hung loosely around his shoulders, and his stance was that of a protector.
A quiver ran through her body. She wanted this man, even though he was a demon. And yet, neither Tristan nor Mark would touch her yet. She wasn’t sure if they were waiting to see if her memories would return, or if they were still worried that she was too fragile, but it drove her mad.
He leapt down from the edge of the building and came close to her, until his shadow blocked out the sun. “If you would like, I can take you flying.”
His words hurt something deep inside her. She didn’t want him to take her into the sky. She wanted her own wings.
“No, thanks.”
He cocked his head. “You miss it. You lay up here each morning pretending to fly. Why not let me help?”
It took her a second to answer. “It’s not the same.”
He nodded, then knelt down beside her. “What can I do for you?”
Her throat went dry. When she and Daniel fucked, she felt… alive for a little while, but the feeling didn’t last. She didn’t understand why. He’d told her that it had changed her in some profound way before, and she wanted that now more than anything. If she couldn’t be an angel, she needed to be human again. Something real.
Leaning up, she ran her fingers through his hair.
His eyes widened, and he stood frozen while she touched him. His hair. His jaw. At last, she pulled him slowly down to her and kissed him.
He groaned, and suddenly, he was kissing her back, desperately, his mouth hard and confident.
When she parted her lips, he rose over her and lay down on top of her. Then, his tongue moved into her mouth.
She moaned, rubbing herself against his hard erection.
He broke their kiss.
She stared up at him, panting. “Please?”
His eyes closed, his jaw locked. “Surcy…”
She slid her hands under his shirt, stroking the hard muscles of his stomach. Then, trailing her hands down, she gripped his cock through his pants.
His eyes flashed open. “Do you love me?”
She tensed.
“Do you?” he asked again.
Her heart hammered. “Tristan, I—“
“You still don’t remember me. You still don’t care for me like that.”
Her hand dropped. “Can’t we just pretend for a little while?”
“You might be able to, but I can’t.” The misery in his gaze was heart wrenching.
“I want to remember. You know that, right?”
He nodded, then rolled off of her.
Standing, he turned his strong back to her, hands clenched.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She wasn’t sure he’d heard her when his gruff voice came. “Mark wants to talk to us.”
“Okay.”
The gargoyle moved to the edge of the building and leapt off, drifting above the tall trees that surrounded their home. She stared after him, hating the emotions coursing through her. There was nothing she could do to right things between them. It seemed they were tortured both by her touch and by her lack of touch.
So, I guess we’ll just keep pretending.
Rising, she hurried down the stairs that led to the rooftop and walked down the long hallway that had doors leading to each of their rooms. At the end of it, she stepped out into the large living room. Her gaze immediately went to the back wall of massive glass doors and the incredible garden Mark had planted around their home. It grew wild and beautiful, transforming the simple room into something extraordinary.
When she was alone, the view was almost soothing. But in moments like this, it was like something incredible… that she wasn’t a part of.
But apparently I helped plant it. If only I remembered. She turned her gaze away from it, hating how everything seemed to be triggering her sadness.
I need to snap out of this!
A movement drew her gaze. Mark sat quietly on the couch in the living room, and her heart clenched. He must have been using the God Finder again. The circles under his eyes were darker than ever, and he looked pale.
For a moment, she stood in the doorway, her gaze transfixed by him. Mark was a good-looking man. He wasn’t as broad as Tristan, but he was taller, with tight muscles that bulged beneath his collared shirts.
When he turned to her, his mouth twisted into a tired smile. “Did you sleep well?”
She’d been having nightmares about Caine lately, but when she
woke up, they slipped away like shadows.
“About the same,” she said, walking across the room and sitting in the overly-large chair near the cold fireplace.
“I’ll make you some tea tonight.”
She smiled. “Maybe you need to make some tea for yourself too.”
He winced. “Do I look that bad?”
“Never,” she laughed. “But you do look like you need a good night’s sleep.”
He stroked the chain on his ancient necklace, The God Finder, and looked troubled. “I couldn’t sleep until I knew for sure… and now I do.”
“Knew?” she asked, sitting up straighter. Has he discovered another Immortal?
“Morning!”
Every muscle in her body tensed. Turning, she tried not to stare at Daniel, but he looked so damn good. His normally perfectly styled blond hair was still messy from sleep, and all he wore was a pair of dark boxers.
Her mouth watered. It’d been a couple days since she’d touched him last. If Mark wasn’t in the room, she wouldn’t have been able to control herself. Her hands twitched, wanting to touch his massive biceps, wanting to lick her way down his chest and belly.
“You look hungry,” he told her, and she didn’t miss the sexual innuendo behind his words. “How about we all sit at the table and have some coffee?”
Mark rubbed his face. “I could actually use some coffee.”
She and Mark moved to the little table, and Daniel poured them all a cup of coffee, and an additional one in front of Tristan’s spot.
Immortal Truths: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 2) Page 1
