The Seventh Immortal (Hearts of Amaranth #1)

The Seventh Immortal

  Hearts of Amaranth #1

  by J. M. Parry

  Copyright 2013

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  The woman was close. She was so close that she could feel the cold embrace of oblivion. It was just within reach, as if she could push a little more and put her fingertips against the end of everything. Something pulled her back. It washed over her and pushed her away from annihilation. She fought against it. Struggled against it with all her might. No matter how she tried, her strength wasn't enough.

  For most people, life is like a river. It flows in one direction, from birth to an inevitable end. Everyone fights against the current, clinging to life. The woman's river flowed backwards, away from death and towards some unknown purpose. She was swimming as hard as she could to destroy herself.

  As the woman fought against the forces dragging her away from death, she realized that she didn't know why she was struggling. Even then, in the first moments she would remember for the rest of her unnatural life, she knew that victory meant death. And she couldn't recall why she wanted to die. Her memories were gone. She was a new person now. The old one, the one who wanted to disappear, had made it to the void that she couldn't quite reach.

  The woman stopped fighting. And that is when she opened her eyes.

  Chapter One

  White ceiling tiles. A plastic, pastel blue curtain. Low, steady beeping. A dull pain in her arm. A clammy feeling across her body. The world returned to the woman as soon as quickly as she returned to it. She instantly became aware of her surroundings.

  She was in a hospital room. This made sense to her, even in her confusion. She had died, or come very close to it. This was where she made her recovery. She tried to sit up in her bed, but found her body almost completely unresponsive. Her arms wouldn't move. Her legs would barely twitch. Something was wrong. Was she paralyzed? She could still feel the rough sheets against her skin. No... She was drugged.

  “Who are you?” A deep voice asked. She wasn't alone. There was someone else in the room with her.

  A man sat cross-legged in a chair across from her hospital bed. He was lean, and wore a pressed three piece suit that seemed perfectly cut to his frame. His hazel eyes peered at the woman from behind wireframe spectacles.

  “Who are you?” he repeated as soon as she began to wake. The woman tried to speak but her mouth was too dry. Once more, she pressed her arms against the bed to push herself upwards. This time, she felt the strength beginning to return to her limbs.

  The man realized that she was moving and quickly stood up. He walked over to the machine next to her—the one that was beeping—and pressed a button. Before the woman could move again, she began to feel her strength fading.

  He was drugging her. He was keeping her unconscious.

  “I'm sorry,” the man said. His voice was smooth and steady. It comforted the woman even though she knew what he was doing to her. “We can't have you wake up just yet. We still don't know what we are going to do with you.”

  Her eyes began to droop. Everything went dark again, though this time there was no annihilation to strive towards. She was not dying. She was merely sleeping.

  The woman did not know how long she was unconscious. Time passed strangely for her, as she still had very little concept of it. The drugs rushing through her body hardly left her with the faculties to keep track of the minutes and hours as they ticked by.

  Once again, she felt herself pulled back into the world. The sensation returned to her skin. Light poured into the slit between her eyelids and she was able to peel back the darkness. Everything was bright. Everything was loud. And, just like before, the woman was not alone in her room.

  “C'mon... C'mon, hurry up! Wake up! I don't know how long we have.”

  The woman blinked back the sleep in her eyes and looked over, expecting to see the same man as before. She was relieved to find someone new—someone who looked like he belonged in a hospital.

  His hands brushed her arm, then gripped the IV attached to her vein.

  She looked up at him, still in a daze, straining to study him through her blurred vision. Was he a friend or foe? She had no idea. She didn’t know anything anymore. She forced a word from her throat and out of her mouth, the only one she could manage at first. “Please...”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here to help.” His voice was low and firm but resonant with compassion. His figure came slowly into focus. He wore light blue scrubs over a broad-shouldered body with rich olive skin. The collar of the scrubs ran low enough to reveal the muscles of his chest, rippling as he reached down to grip her, but there was a tenderness to his touch, or perhaps hesitancy. Again, she wondered what this man planned to do with her, and fear shot briefly through her belly. But as soon as she stared into his bright green eyes, she knew she could trust him. He looked back at her with a mixture of awe and reverence, his gaze searching hers with equal intensity.

  “It worked. You’re awake,” he said. Gently, he pulled the IV needle from her arm. For a moment, the world seemed to spin. Then his hand returned quickly to her body, reassuring, stabilizing. She fixed her gaze on him again, like an anchor holding her in place. His bright green eyes contrasted so beautifully with his olive skin and dark, messy hair. As she felt her control of her body returning to her, she found herself smiling at him. But he seemed hesitant to smile back. “Now, can you move? We need to get you out of here. But we probably won’t make it far if I have to carry you.”

  That was a shame, she thought. She would have let this man carry her anywhere. But she sensed the urgency in his tone, and as she became increasingly aware of her situation, she felt her own fear return to her.

  “Where am I?” she asked, pushing herself up. “Who am I?”

  Silence. The young man stared at her, his face fallen. “Y-you have amnesia?” he finally asked. “Are you joking?”

  “Not joking.”

  “I... I had so many questions...” His voice trailed off. “But that's not important right now. We don't have much time.”

  The woman turned and threw her legs off the bed. She looked down at herself, realizing that she was wearing nothing but a flimsy hospital gown. This wasn't the time for modesty, but she still felt a warmth run to her cheeks as the man looked at her.

  He quickly realized that he was staring. “I'm sorry,” he said, turning away. “I thought--”

  “It doesn't matter,” she replied. She wriggled her toes, confirming that her legs still worked, and slid off the bed. Standing wasn't easy with the drugs still in her system, but she could pull it off. “I guess you have to answer my questions instead. What do you know? Who am I?”

  “You had your driver's license on you when you fell,” the man replied. “That's all we know. Your name is Kait. Kait Selias.”

  “Doesn't ring a bell,” Kait said. “Though I guess that's not a surprise. And who are you?”

  The young man turned around to face her again. Kait reached behind her to close her gown, almost reflexively. “Paul Gordon,” he told her. “I'm a resident here... You really don't remember anything?”

  Kait shook her head. “You said that I fell?”

  Paul nodded. “Right off the top of the courthouse. Thirteen floors. Went headfirst into the pavement. When you came in... Your whole head... I don't know how this is possible. You shouldn't be alive, let alone standing and talking.”
r />   Out of everything Paul had said, this was the one thing that made the most sense. Kait knew he was right. She should have been dead. Carefully, she reached up to her face. She ran her fingers along her cheek. Her skin was smooth. She ran her hand over her hair. It was a bit tangled, but everything felt in the right place.

  “How long have I been here?” Kait asked.

  “Just since this morning,” Paul replied. “You made a full recovery in a matter of hours. That's why I was so curious. I've never seen anything--”

  “I don't have any answers,” Kait interrupted. “I'm sorry. Is that why they were drugging me?”

  Paul shrugged. “I don't know, but when I found out what they were doing... I could lose my job for this. But I brought you some clothes. I hope they fit.” He pointed to a pair of slacks and a blouse on the chair across from the bed.

  “Thanks.” Kait walked over to the clothes, still holding her gown tightly behind her. She scooped the garments up with one hand and walked towards the bathroom. “But why would you lose your job? You're a doctor. Shouldn't you be commended for helping me?”

  “I don't know,” Paul replied. “Maybe they wanted to send you to the government for testing or something. After you recovered from your injuries so quickly... All I know is that Mayor Levin was involved.”

  Kait stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She pulled on the pants—gray slacks that were a bit too baggy but would do in a pinch. “Let me guess,” she shouted through the door. “Thin man, pale, well dressed, hazel eyes...”

  “I don't know what color his eyes are,” Paul replied, chuckling. “But it sounds like you've got the right guy. You know him and you don't even know yourself?”

  “He woke me up, briefly,” Kait said, pulling off the hospital gown. She slipped her arms through the sleeves of the blouse. “I think he wanted to ask who I was, but like you know... I couldn't give him a good answer.”

  “Mayor Levin runs everything in St. Louis,” Paul said. “When he finds out I let you go...”

  “St. Louis?”

  “You don't remember anything?”

  “This is all new for me,” Kait said. Once she buttoned up her blouse, she looked in the mirror and saw her own face for the first time. Her skin was pale, but smooth like polished ivory. There wasn't a single wrinkle or crease, even in the corners of her eyes. She had a soft, heart-shaped face and a wide mouth with pale, pink lips. Her dark, thin eyebrows stood out against her sallow skin and blue-gray eyes. She had chocolate-colored hair that was mostly flattened against her head, matted down from spending the morning in a hospital bed. It nearly reached her shoulders, but small chunks of errant hair still managed to stick up around her head.

  An emptiness hit her gut as she thought about Paul seeing her in such a sorry state. He looked so perfect, with a healthy tan that seemed to glow against his navy scrubs. She felt like she wasn't just out of his league; she was playing a different sport. It was too late to do anything about it now. And there was an even more embarrassing matter to take care of:

  “You didn't happen to bring a bra, did you?” she asked.

  “I-I didn't... I don't...” Paul stuttered outside the door. Kait smiled for just a second. At the very least, she could make him as uncomfortable as she felt.

  She arched her back and looked in the mirror. Her breasts were round and pert, small enough to comfortably forgo a bra but large enough that it felt indecent. Running her hands across her chest, she was at least glad that she didn't need any help to flatter her figure. As long as she didn't get too cold, maybe she could even get away with the natural look.

  Kait opened the door back into the hospital room. “Don't worry about it,” she said. “I've got more important things to worry about.”

  As soon as Kait was out of the bathroom, Paul turned to look at her. He grinned again. This made her feel better about the messy state of her hair and face. “Okay, now we'll get you out of here,” he said. “If we're careful--”

  “I don't know what I'm going to do,” Kait replied. “I don't know where I will go. I don't know who I am.”

  Paul stopped. He didn't have any answers for her. Kait didn't know why she expected him to be able to solve all her problems. He'd done enough. He'd risked his job to pull her out of a chemically-induced coma. That should have been enough.

  “I'm sorry,” Kait said. “You can't... I can't expect you to tell me what to do next. You've helped me more than you had any reason to. Thank you.”

  “I... I had a reason,” Paul replied. He fixed Kait with his bright green eyes and slowly reached up towards her cheek. She felt paralyzed by his gaze. She realized that his curiosity in her ran deeper than just her mysterious condition.

  Just as his hand was about to touch her cheek, a loud banging sound filled the air. The door to the hospital room shook violently as someone pounded their fist against it.

  “Who is in there?” a voice shouted. “Open up!”

  Paul had wisely locked the door to Kait's room before waking her from her sleep, but that wouldn't buy them much time. The doors were thin, and undoubtedly plenty of people within the hospital had the key.

  Reluctantly, Kait pulled away from Paul. “They found us!” she exclaimed.

  Panic lit up Paul's face. He was contemplating the end of his career and, perhaps, his life. Quickly, he came up with a solution. He grabbed Kait's wrist and held up her hand. Her skin tingled at his touch and she wished for better circumstances. Once she escaped...

  “Hit me,” Paul whispered.

  “What?”

  “Hit me. I'll tell them that you woke up and knocked me out. They—they can't possibly know anything about what you are. They'll have to believe it.”

  Kait looked around the hospital room. There wasn't another way out. “How do I get out?”

  Paul pointed at the window. “It's only the second story,” he said. “You survived a much worse fall already.”

  “You... What do you think I am?”

  “By the time you got here, all your bones were healed. You weren't even bruised. The only thing left was for you to regain consciousness. If you landed on your feet, you probably could have walked away from it.” Paul looked her in the eye again. “It's better than what they probably want to do to you.”

  Paul was right. She couldn't let them capture her and put her under again. Who knows what the government planned on doing with her? “Okay. I'll hit you.”

  Kait reared back and put all of her strength into a single punch. Paul rolled with it well enough, throwing himself across the room in a dramatic showing that should have made Kait laugh. She didn't feel like laughing. This wasn't the way she wanted to first touch Paul. Even worse, the door was about to come down.

  Her heart pounding in her chest, Kait approached the window. She grabbed the edge of the glass and wrenched it open. With a stiff elbow, she punched a hole through the screen and pulled it out. It was barely big enough for her to fit through, but it would have to do.

  Kait took a deep breath and pulled herself through the window. Her legs dangled over the edge of the wall. It wasn't too far to the ground, but she was pretty sure she could break a leg if she wasn't careful...

  But what did that even mean for her? If what Paul told her was right, she'd managed to survive a head-first swan dive off the thirteenth floor of the courthouse. Was she indestructible? Or something else? If she jumped, would she just cripple herself and let the mayor capture her again?

  There wasn't time to think much about it. There was only time to find out. Kait took a deep breath and pushed herself off of the windowsill. Her stomach lurched up into her chest as she fell. The air flew past her and the ground flew towards her. She felt her legs hit the ground. The shock nearly knocked her from her feet, but it didn't hurt.

  Kait stared at her legs. They were fine. They didn't shatter from th
e impact. There was no sickening snap as she planted her feet into the pavement outside the hospital.

  She didn't know much, but she knew this wasn't normal. Even two stories should have been enough to injure her, but she barely felt a thing.

  Before she could think too much about it, Kait heard a loud siren split the air. It was coming from inside the hospital. They knew she'd gone missing and they were sounding the alarm. It was time to go.