Risen Lovers: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 4)

  EDGE

  Copyright © 2013 Jamie Magee

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited Todd Barselow

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload this book to a file sharing program. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Where To Find Jamie Online:

  authorjamiemagee.com

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  Other Books by Jamie Magee

  “Web of Hearts and Souls”

  Insight (Book 1)

  Embody (Book 2)

  Image (Book 3)

  Vital (Book 4)

  Vindicate (Book 5)

  Enflame (Book 6)

  Imperial (Book 7)

  Blakeshire (Book 8)

  Emanate (Book 9)

  Exaltation (Book 10)

  See (Book 1)

  Witness (Book 2)

  Synergy (Book 3)

  Redefined (Book 4)

  Derive (Book 5)

  Rivulet (Book 1)

  Contemporary Novels:

  Impulsion

  Friction

  Deploy

  For the lovers who stand the test of time...

  “Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.”

  ― Dylan Thomas

  Edge

  Season TWO

  Episode One

  Chapter One

  Five Years Before

  Absolute terror was what twenty-year-old Adair Vallet was feeling as she frantically read the last page in the stolen grimoire before her. She was memorizing the words as she did so. A photographic memory was one of her many gifts—curses. Right then she had no idea why her cousin, her only family, Finley Vallet, was making her do this.

  Adair had her hands braced at an angle in the shape of a V over her lower stomach. She could still feel the burn of the tattoo Finley had put on her hours before. The ancient script she had branded into Adair with both ink and spells would not stop bleeding.

  All hell was breaking loose. Finley was sure the love of her life, Talley, was possessed, and she was the only one who could stop evil from destroying him. Adair didn’t doubt it was true, but after reading what was before her she sure as hell doubted Finley’s methods.

  The door to their loft slammed opened, causing Adair to gasp and jolt back with well-deserved fright. She let out a curse when she saw it was only Finley.

  “I told you no lights!” Finley said as she rushed through the room, turning off the two lamps Adair had next to her on the floor.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to read it,” Adair snapped back looking over Finley. She looked even worse than she did a few hours ago. The slashes on her arms were doing their best not to bleed, but were failing. The gash on her forehead was staining her blonde hair, and she was pale—pasty gray.

  For as long as Adair had known Finley she had been with Talley, a biker with the Pentacle Sons. Not once, not ever, had he even raised his voice in Finley’s direction, much less abused her. Even though the man was massive, downright lethal, built head to toe, he was always gentle with Finley. If anything, Finley was the dominant one of the pair.

  That all changed just days ago. First, Finley and the Sons lost Talley. He just fell off the radar. He finally surfaced at Adair and Finley’s loft and all but collapsed on the floor once he walked in. They had no idea what happened to him and were justifiably scared shitless when they felt the cold evil that was lingering against him—when they saw every single plant in the room wilt instantly as if all the life were sucked out of them upon his arrival. And the smell—sulfur—was nauseating.

  Adair still didn’t know what happened to Talley. All she knew was that Talley whispered something to Finley and the second he did panic washed down Finley’s face. She took her ring from her hand and shoved it as hard as she could on his pinky finger, causing it to bleed. Then Finley started to weave spells of protection around him. Before she even had the candles in place he stood up and roared then tossed Finley against the wall and proceeded to destroy the room. Finley whispered on not daring to bow to his ferocious rage. Finally he ran from her words.

  Days later, the room was still littered with broken furniture. Neither Finley nor Adair had slept or eaten once.

  Finley left after Talley did. Adair assumed she was chasing him, but she came back with the book she’d told Adair to memorize. Before Adair could ask one question she knocked Adair out. When Adair awoke, she found her body marked. When she read the words embedded in her skin she vomited instantly. It was fear that made her retch, fear her grandmother was right—she was a child of the devil and now he was going to use her. The only thing stopping him was the marks on her body now.

  It was hard for Adair to believe the words would be strong enough, that Finley had the power to protect her. She was sure her lack of absolute belief was holding a knife to her own throat, for you had to believe for any magic to hold.

  Finley gripped Adair’s shoulders and told her to focus, to remember every single thing she had ever told her and to shake off her terror and memorize the spell book. Then Finley left again without explanation.

  When Adair read spells they pulled her in, deep. Time vanished, so she had no idea how long Finley had been gone, only that it was night again.

  “Have you packed?” Finley asked as she maneuvered around the books that had fallen from the massive bookcase Talley had ripped from the wall, making her way to the hall closet.

  “Why am I memorizing this? What the fuck is going on?” Adair asked, feeling dread wash over her. This was the darkest, most twisted magic she had ever read. Finley had shown her this kind spell book before, but she did so to tell her stay away, not to engage. Over the years Adair had watched Finley curse any and every witch in the Quarter who dared to go near spells such as these. And now she was reaching for them—the very idea of that twisted Adair’s mind.

  Finley had climbed inside the closet and was reaching in the ceiling. She pulled down the cash she and Adair kept hidden. It wasn’t much, a rainy day fund is what Finley called it, what they would use when the ends just would not meet.

  “I have to save him,” Finley said as the tears she would not let fall nearly halted her voice. Hearing her tone only made Adair feel worse. Finley never cried, never really overly expressed any emotion.

  “Not this way, Finley, not this way,” Adair said, squinting as she stood. Her gut was burning. It was not her first tattoo so she was pretty damn sure at this point it was the spell, not the ink, that was her agony. “Did you call Reveca?”

  “I don’t need Reveca to tell me how to handle my man.”

  “They’re his family,” Adair said in a ghost of a whisper. It wasn’t until recently that Finley let Adair go along with her to the Beaureg
ard Boneyard. Most times Talley came to them. In some way, even though they were young, they were like parents to Adair, gave her a sense of home and balance.

  They’d even sent Adair away to school when she was eighteen. Adair made it two semesters before she couldn’t handle it anymore and made her way home. She didn’t know what she wanted to be, but she knew it wasn’t in school, and told Finley as much.

  At first Finley hired Adair, had her work in the boutique she owned. It was called Cauldron. To the tourists it was a fun little witch voodoo shop where they could pick up scented candles, unique jewelry, and maybe a painting or some other trinket to take home. To those that lived in the Quarter, it was more. At the shop anyone from a beginner to the craft, to a natural born witch could find what they needed for the spells they were casting. Everyone, tourists and residents alike, could have their cards read, buy what they needed to remove a hex.

  Adair working at the shop didn’t last long. She was trying to discover who she was and that was hard to do when Finley and all her witch friends were constantly offering free advice, guiding her away from danger. Danger Adair had never once tasted since Finley had custody of her. Adair made the excuse that the shop was barely balancing the books in the slow season, and it didn’t need her on the payroll as well, and struck out on her own.

  She’d told Finley she was waiting tables and hosting at the finer establishments in New Orleans. Which was a lie. Adair was bartending at one of the wildest bars in the Quarter, and making a killing doing so.

  Finley figured out what Adair was doing weeks into Adair’s new job adventure, actually caught her dancing on the bar as she poured shots. She pulled Adair from the bar and the next night she and Talley took her to the Boneyard. Finley told her if she were going to go down a dark road then she was going to do so where Finley knew she would be safe.

  The last seven months of Adair’s life had been the best of her young life. Eye opening to say the least. She had met Reveca and Talon before, had known them since she was a girl, but had no idea they had an empire, a big family.

  It was the family, the loyalty, that Adair felt at the Beauregard Boneyard which had her enchanted. She had never known so many people to come together as powerfully before.

  “Adair, you have to trust me right now. I know what I’m doing.” Finley said as she stuffed a few of Adair’s clothes in a bag. She glanced to her. “You have it memorized?”

  “Yeah,” Adair said weakly.

  “Every single word, you own them. You swear it,” Finley pushed.

  Adair nodded. At this point she wished she could forget them.

  “The blood spell, you know it?”

  “The one you make me do every time we practice, yeah I got it,” Adair said dumbfounded. The spell in question didn’t line up with what she had read—dead people do not bleed.

  “And the protection one?”

  “I got it.”

  Finley glanced to the book, whispered words across her lips, and all at once it went up in flames.

  Adair lurched back in shock. “What the fuck, Finley! That book had to be hundreds of years old!”

  “Older,” Finley said as the flames went out instantly, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash which swirled in place then vanished.

  “We’re leaving. Let’s go,” Finley said, handing Adair her puppy which had been growling at the flames from under the broken table.

  Adair pulled the black and tan Aussie to her, let her hand run down her thick, silk coat feeling her tremble. Mystic, her pup, was a birthday gift, and when the thought of not seeing who gave her the gift again struck Adair she nearly wretched again. “Can I at least tell him goodbye?”

  “You’re not telling him goodbye,” Finley said, pulling her up.

  If anything Finley was counting on Judge to watch over Adair. It wasn’t easy for Talley to be cool with Adair seeing anyone at the Club, but he had a hard time arguing with prophecy. They had always known at some point, Judge and Adair would find each other.

  Judge was levelheaded, had a sense about him, and knew how to be lethal when it came to protecting his own. No father figure, or mother figure, would ask for less when it came to handing off a girl they had all but raised, saved from a life of hell, a girl with a future like Adair.

  “What are you talking about?” Adair said wide-eyed, sure she understood now. Finley was sending her to the Boneyard and then she was going to handle Talley on her own—Adair could not let her do so. Not when she knew death was an underlying factor in the spell.

  “I’ll tell you when to call him.”

  “After I help you, right?” Adair pushed.

  Before Finley opened the front door she turned and placed her hand on Adair’s face, remembering how short their years were together, how she always wanted them to be longer, expected them to be, and hoping against all hope that she had taught Adair all that she needed. That it was secure in that beautiful, gifted mind of hers. “This path is not short, Adair, it’s long. I need you to trust me. Let me go when I say.”

  Adair lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Finley, holding her as tightly as she could.

  “It’s going to be all right, I promise. It takes time. That’s all. Just time,” Finley crooned, taking precious seconds to hold Adair. “Let’s go,” she said before nodding for Adair to go on. “I rented a car. We have to time this right,” Finley said as she glanced up at the moon when they made it outside.

  ***

  Reveca was standing in the center of her room, her trashed room, on the phone with Evanthe. Apparently, hours before Talley had destroyed Evanthe’s home, too.

  Talley was looking for something, Reveca was sure of it. Her mattress was ripped in two, her floorboards were pulled up, her portable altar was destroyed, her dresser drawers were pulled out, and the walls themselves had gaping holes in them.

  “I’m coming there, Evanthe,” Reveca said into her phone as Talon emerged in the threshold of the room, a look of fury strapped across his face. “What do you mean no? What are you hiding, Evanthe? Zale? Is that it? Are you harboring him?” Reveca yelled into her phone, completely pissed that Evanthe was telling her she was not coming to her home under any circumstances. For nearly twenty years Evanthe refused to allow anyone in her home and now Reveca was sure she knew why. Fucking Zale.

  “You’re hiding something!” Reveca bellowed. “I know he’s out of control, but he’s looking for something—I need to know what he took from your library. I know that room better than you!”

  And that was true. Reveca always stayed with Evanthe during the breaks she and Talon had taken over the years, sometimes just for the hell of it. She was the one who established Evanthe’s library. Hell, she’d personally written at least a third of the books. Eras back she was afraid she’d forget a few spells over time and made sure they were not only recorded, but also spelled shut.

  “Fine. Tell me where Zale is,” Reveca fumed. “Yes I’m blaming him for this. One of mine does not go off the rails for the fuck of it!”

  Talon moved across the room, came up behind Reveca, and let his hands slide around her hips. The entire room, everything there, was vibrating, and it was doing so because Reveca’s emotions were out of their normal boundaries, boundaries that had expanded over the last few weeks.

  Her this mad, this enraged, turned Talon on big time. His woman was on fire with power. For the last twenty years she had been, but recently it was like someone twisted the throttle on her craft, her power, and she was unstoppable. Talon was sure they were finally going to take that fucker Zale down.

  His touch on her skin caused Reveca to let out a slow breath. Talon was her caution light, he let her know when she was to close to losing control. Reveca leaned back into him as she closed her eyes and listened to Evanthe.

  “Fine,” Reveca said. “Let me vow this to you, my friend. If I find out you’re harboring him, both of you will be one in the same to me, am I clear? I will take you down just the same. Someone is fucking with my
boys and I’m not going to stand for it. You know I won’t.”

  When Evanthe responded, Reveca threw her phone across the room, causing it to shatter into pieces.

  Talon turned her in his arms, and before she could even begin to rant, his lips were on hers. His kiss was hungry, demanding and exactly what Reveca needed at that very second. Her nails ran up his chest, reaching for his shoulders then threaded through his hair. Talon lifted her and wrapped her legs around him. He grinned when she arched her neck for him to kiss her flesh.

  “My woman, full of fire tonight,” he said in a husky whisper.

  Reveca rocked her hips against him and nearly smiled when his lips fell to her chest. He was reining her in, as he’d had to do over and over for the past few weeks almost hourly.

  The war was uniform, in control. They had pulled legions of Rouges off the streets and were sorting through those that had to be put down and those that could be saved—then all hell broke loose. Then one of their own flipped his switch.

  “I have to fix him, I have to figure out what he’s trying to do,” Reveca said with a moan as she felt Talon’s lips move down her chest, his hands slowly squeezing her ass, moving under her jean shorts.

  “He’s home,” Talon said, daring to look up at her and smile.

  The erotic spell he had her under broke—she dropped her legs from around him and looked up with wide eyes as she adjusted her shirt.

  A playful pout came to his lips. “Should’ve waited a minute to say as much.”

  Reveca impishly pushed his chest back. “You brought him home?”

  “I promised you I would,” he said as his dark eyes fell into hers. In all truth there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for this woman. Even if he knew it was a lost cause.

  He’d brought home someone that sure as hell looked like Talley, but Talon was sure it wasn’t, not anymore. Talley was a causality of war. One of the very few immortals who actually fell during the wars the Sons fought.

  “What are you not saying?” Reveca asked as she felt dread wash over her.