Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7), Page 3

  “Do you?” King said smoothly deciding that sitting on the edge of the cliff feet from her and staring out into the vastness seemed like a keen idea. Out of sight, out of mind. Maybe.

  With her mouth agape, Reveca watched him leisurely take his seat. In a huff, she looked to the east, the opposite way King had decided to gaze into the nothing, and questioned her luck on getting any of the Escorts she sensed in the distance to take her back to the Boneyard.

  “I’m sick of you treating me like a child—worse yet, a prisoner! I know what I’m doing.”

  King canted his head in thought as he rested his powerful arms behind his body on the rocks. “In hindsight, often, yes, you do.”

  “Hindsight? Are you fucking serious right now?” She lived and breathed hindsight. Karma, good and bad, always took its sweet ass time when it came to catching up with her. And once it did, it was never entirely simple to guess what had caused it to arise. Half her existence was spent looking over her shoulder wondering which sleeping demon would arise, and when. It wasn’t a new battle for her every day. It was the same one, the same bullshit that the wind of curses and fate would kick up when it felt fruity enough to do so.

  She didn’t have time for this added layer to the war she was in now. Too many debts and favors were coming to the table at once. Life and death mistakes are made in mayhem, and it was mayhem beating her door down now.

  A dismissive grunt was King’s answer to her rant.

  Reveca slanted her eyes at him, deciding that perhaps stroking his alpha into defense might be the ace she needed to play now. She was never one for this game. She despised it each time she’d pushed Talon’s buttons to rise and slay someone he would have otherwise left alone. It was a sign of weakness in her mindset, for Talon, not her. It meant she had control, and he was under her spell. Then again, perhaps it was her that was under a spell—she was never once allowed to forget the deed Talon did on her behalf. Those acts had added to the thick blanket of loyalty and history between her and Talon.

  With King, it would be different. He was a man of few words, and zero of those words were spent on guilt or shaming anyone. King looked forward. Talon leaned on his past.

  Of course her lover, her soul would slay anyone at her request? Right?

  She prepared her softest voice and threaded the tiniest of trembles through it. “You have to destroy Scorpio. You must do it now. I know you can track him.”

  She moved to stand at King’s side fully expecting him to arise and pull her against his body and search her eyes for all the wrongs that had been cast her way seconds before he tore off to do her bidding.

  It didn’t happen. W.T.F I’m losing my skills!

  “The mother of the dead asking for a violent end when disobeyed.” King shifted his eyes up. “A vengeful goddess, is that your new life goal?” He pursed his lips. “Sexy as hell, but far from where you need to be now.”

  You self-righteous, holier than thou, son of a bitch. How fucking dare you look at me that way—accuse me of being out of control—her ranting thoughts stopped short as he arched a brow and amusement struck his delicious gaze.

  Her shoulders sagged and she deflated knowing she was stuck against a rock and a hard place. This male had her number, always had. She loved and hated this about him. It made her feel safe and pushed her to gain his balance. At the same time—sometimes a fucking freak out was needed. Anger is a gift! Anger breaks down what you can no longer handle. Heavens are built on the destruction of hells.

  She had a million secrets, and he had zero dirt she could use as a weapon against him. Feeling the way she did then was far from hot or sexy.

  After a long moment, full of ways to get around the latest strike from the past, she manifested herself beside King. He didn’t force her to say anything, and for a long while, she didn’t. She knew she had to calm down before she said or did something that would add even more strife to her life.

  King may have forgiven her for ‘feeding’ Talon their shared vim, basically raping the male so he would live, but the wound was fresh. Fresh enough for her to realize time was not the same for either of them. King could vanish for the better part of a century in the name of letting himself calm down. It only took hours for her to break apart last time she acted on emotion and not the balance of godly morals.

  She breathed in the calm of the fresh air and prayed to the same fates she had once spoken to as a child to give her strength. The calm hum that rushed over her soul settled the beat of her heart even more; her breaths became steady and deep.

  She missed this dimension more than she knew, the silence and glory of it was something she had scarcely found in the dimension she lived in now, over the years it had only become louder and louder.

  There had been nil time for her to explore her home dimension since King had shown her how it was silently thriving. She wasn’t aching to do so; she knew there was a helluva lot of sorrow waiting on her once she did, and chose to let the memories of her past flood forward.

  She heard that once a child loses their parents, they find mortality; it wasn’t true for her, quite the opposite. Nevertheless, at times she liked to imagine they were safely tucked away in the safe world she was born into.

  At least it was safe when she took her first breath. Wars have always found a lust for wherever Reveca was; she was still a child when the paradise of her people’s home became darker.

  Right then she should’ve been overlooking one of the most powerful cities in the universe, Revra, a word that simply meant: where gods roam. Everything was built tall and wide, fit for the size of the gods. The gardens and ivory temples stretched for miles in each direction.

  When she was very young, she called it the white ocean. When her father would bring her on the long journey to Revra, they would stop on a mountain ridge not far from where she was sitting.

  The pause was meant to clear away mortal woes and desires, for the gods only granted peace and direction for the one true need of the mortals— spiritual growth. It was hard to stop Reveca’s questioning mind and slip deep into herself as all those with her on the journey would do. Most times she would squint one eye open and stare down at the glory of it all. It was a time in her life when anything was possible, when every day she woke excited to learn and explore and the only dread she had was falling on her mothers short list for being late to a family gathering.

  Back then, in the sea of the lush green valley kissed with exotic flowers there was white. Most of it was a long, white silk sheets that had been placed between the pillars of the temples. The wind would dance with them. They were so wide and long that to a child, it did look as if the gods had come to the home created for him. If she stared really hard, she could imagine their expressions, their grace and calm wrath.

  Reveca had only seen the city four times, all before the age of five. When she was six, the temples were overrun by power hungry fools seeking magic they already possessed. In Reveca’s mind, the fall of Revra was the beginning of the end. Wars became everlasting, and in time, nature responded. The dimension fell, and her life as the Queen of the Edge began.

  Hating the sick anxiety swelling in her gut as her youthful wicked life haunted her mind she tried to push all the good she remembered in her homeland to the forefront.

  She glanced at King, before now it never dawned on her that if Revra had never been overtaken, her father would not have needed an army to protect his own. King would have never crossed her path, and would have never been slain by a dark god.

  She had learned a long time ago that pain was necessary for greatness. Still, each time the lesson was presented to her again, it stung. Cause and effect was never fickle, it always followed a set path. Knowing so always bent Reveca’s mind when she tried to trust fate.

  Below she could still see the stones outlining the gardens, even some of the pillars that belonged to the temples. To any other that did not know how glorious it once was, they would find the flowers and blossoming trees breathtaking. To Revec
a, it was a reminder that nothing can ever be as it once was.

  “He’s not mine,” she said finally. There was no need to define who ‘he’ was. She doubted she needed to explain herself further. Somehow, through the vim she shared with King or his pinpoint observation, he’d already known this.

  King’s lack of response only irked her more.

  “You could at least act like I shock you from time to time.”

  A slow grin touched his lips. “You do.”

  She swayed her head. “You need to take me back so I can do what has to be done.”

  “Murder.”

  She gritted her teeth. Murder was easy. It was final. She doubted, even with all her newfound power, she could accomplish such a thing when it came to Scorpio and who he adored. But she was going to damn sure try. “I can afford no more loose cannons.”

  “And how many of our enemies consider the pair of us the same?”

  “Oh, fuck off! You and all your ‘I’m going to be a god one day might as well practice the part’ shit is getting old. Life and death, it is the only game that matters.”

  “One you have bent the rules playing a few times,” the hint of amusement in his tone did nothing to smooth her mood.

  Over and over she turned her past actions and current options in her mind. The exercise only fueled her desperation more. “When is my timeout going to be over?” she asked distantly.

  King glanced to his side then out to the forgotten temples once more. “She will destroy you.”

  Reveca lifted a brow. “And because she can and will—you will destroy her. Ha! I win.” Reveca was feeling giddy about the loophole she found until it dawned on her they had never spoken of this before. “How in the fuck do you know Toril?”

  It was a loaded question, the weight of it turned sickly in her gut. Toril, if there ever was a being to fear it was her. Reveca would barter almost anything to go back in time and avoid crossing her path. Brilliance and beauty were always intimidating on their own; together in abundance set on a stage of magnificent power had made Toril a female to be revered.

  Reveca only met her once in person, and she was sure it was by accident. She woke from a drug-induced sleep— determined to destroy Scorpio for knocking her out— and found him, Toril, and Talon settled around a fire lost in deep conversation.

  A new form of blessed jealousy slammed into Reveca as she watched how Toril gazed at Talon with wonder, and he looked at her the same way. At this point in Reveca’s life she had seen plenty of women advance Talon, a few she was sure he had given a second thought to. With Toril it was different. She was the first with any kind of power, the first to hypnotize him with the seduction of dominance.

  When Toril reached to smooth the back of her hand down Talon’s cheek, and Reveca watched Talon close his eyes in ecstasy, Reveca lost her shit. There was no calm, cool wit with her approach. Reveca struck from the back without warning, so fiercely that she knocked Talon out completely. She and Toril went head to head from that point on, Scorpio took as many blows as he could all the while doing his best to calm Toril down, not her, which only made Reveca more furious. In her mind, she was the threat, not this wanna be soothsayer!

  In the end, when Scorpio fell from one too many blows, instantly Toril was possessed the same way she had seen Scorpio become in the recent past. As Reveca watched Toril battle with herself, flailing on the ground, bowing her chest, speaking in tongues, she showed no mercy. Reveca struck harder and harder—determined to slay this demon!

  Before Toril succumbed to the deliverance of Reveca’s vengeance, she spoke a vow thorough clenched teeth. “In the hallows of the underworld, I will drain the blood of your forsaken and slay you with the sword of their souls. Your power will be thine!”

  Seconds later, Reveca passed out from pure exhaustion. It was nearly a fortnight before she awoke again. Talon swore he had no idea what she was speaking of, blamed it all on a feverish dream. Scorpio made no denial, but he refused to give validation either. His only response, even after drugging him with a truth serum was, “Talon’s power is from more than you. When you turn on him, you surrender him. I will not allow it. His death binds others to the same fate.”

  Reveca always knew Talon’s immortal power came from a source more powerful than her, one she could not explain. What the power was, how to charm it, was still something she was new to. Talon had only been immortal for five years at the time. Binding him to others? In some way, it made sense for the first to influence those who came after. All in all, it was a gamble to trust Scorpio’s warning. But what choice did she have? If anything, she had a warrior willing to defend her beloved at all cost, it was an assurance someone with her past needed, and wanted.

  Reveca never trusted that Toril was gone— she was a wraith that swarmed over Reveca’s troubled thoughts almost daily. More so recently, as Reveca watched Talon crumble more than he ever had and Scorpio become so restless that she knew him riding out as he did today was eminent.

  King’s blue stare met hers; it was hard for him not to pull her to him when he saw how troubled her expression was and she trembled with both rage and fear. “I sense her more than I know her,” he said to answer her question of how he knew Toril.

  When Reveca looked away from him, he said, “If your intent was pure, karma will land on your side.”

  Enough with the dominant bitches! Reveca cursed to the universe.

  Ambrosia was still a crazy ass threat that had to be contended with, not to mention Crass’ barter—Tisk’s scant ass in his lair, and oh, let’s not forget the dark god that was set on destroying them all. This demon of Toril needed to wait another day to be slain. Yes. Reveca still believed the whore was alive somewhere, waiting to strike as she said she would.

  It was insane how one moment could overshadow an entire life; one wrong deed could outweigh every good deed you’ve done. At least it felt that way at times.

  Looking back, it’s hard to know where Reveca’s karma was when she first saw Scorpio. To this day, she could still smell the blood and fire in the air. The sound of men roaring along with the steel of swords hitting shields was music to her ears.

  Reveca was a healer, a goddess, more powerful than any other. Those were the sweet nothings Zale had said to her. Reveca was an addict for the rush she felt each time she brought a warrior back from death— just as Zale had groomed her to become.

  For weeks, Reveca had been trying to reel in her lust for the rush. Falling for an addiction is the easy part. It’s when you reach the edge of your control, when you feel who you once were slowly dying, that you are faced with a game-changing battle. If you surrender, you will become someone who is not you. If you fight you will lose yourself, but be stronger for it, a soul that has lived and learned.

  Reveca had been on the edge of oblivion for a while. Now and again she would fight to hold back the need to feel the rush. It was a pain and reward system. Endure this long, and then feel the high. She was sure she was weaning herself off, on the surface at least. Deep down she knew she would crumble at Zale’s side. Talon was the only one who could deliver her salvation.

  Until her stubbornness, and Talon’s, subsided she’d become selective with those she brought back as she roamed the abandoned battlefields with the crows seeking a meal of blood-soaked flesh. Among the dead, she preyed on the purest energies and purest hearts. Of course if they were handsome it didn’t hurt. There was nothing wrong with making the scenery around her life as drool-worthy as possible in her mindset.

  She had given up her search for the night coming up less than pleased with the recently fallen. Most of the bodies were of her enemies, giving her every reason to be even stingier with her gift. Transformation was hard enough without trying to tame someone who died confused about what side they should be fighting for.

  In the far distance, she saw fires outline the stoic figure of a man falling from his horse that had been at a full gallop seconds before. Finding the animal useless, the man ran on, faster than she
had ever seen a mortal move when weighted down with armor and weapons.

  Curiosity lead her to track him. She assumed it would be easy since he was on foot and she was on horseback. Hours later, before dawn, she found him in the woods, he was slumped next to a massive tree. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his body was soaked with sweat.

  She was upon him when his jade eyes flicked open at the same second his sword met her chest. “Go. Away.” He hissed.

  “Where are you hurt?” Reveca asked batting his sword away like it was an annoying fly.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his shoulders began to shake violently. Reveca pulled him to her and used all her power to hold his soul in place. The effort needed to hold him became the most brutal fight she’d ever fought. It was her willfulness that saw her through the battle that lasted for hours.

  He finally fell lax, weak from whatever wounds he had and the plight for death she’d pulled him back from. When his eyes flipped open once more just before sliding closed she grinned at him. “Mine now,” she breathed brushing her lips with his. “Yes, with you many wars will be won. Rest now.”

  She watched over him for the next three moon rises, building a shelter and fire. Sitting at his side as protectively as she had was for his benefit as much as her own. Each time she had brought the dead back before it had drained her, and worse—it had pulled her back into the gates of her prison, The Edge. She feared each time she entered those gates, they would close behind her, locking her eternally inside.

  It didn’t with him. She stayed where she was. The knowledge of how powerful she was becoming made her feel invincible. It was hard for her to admit, but she knew her addictive personality was just as much productive as it was destructive. As much as she wanted to go out and pull more souls back just to see if she could without ever having to leave her footing in the world she was in, she was determined to see this through. After all, this was the first time she had accomplished this, for all she knew there could be flaws.