Dark Lure: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 2)

  Two guys with masks on were at a long white table, moving through pills, the final step before packaging. They both stood with clear fright when they saw Talon. He nodded to them, told them to sit, then made his way down the short hall to where the first stage of this process began.

  There she was. Amber.

  Compassion was not something Talon was known to have in abundance, but somehow years back this girl had brought that out in him.

  She surfaced at the club. Completely gothed out, clearly trying too hard to fit in with the rider she had followed there. Talon wasn’t sure why he kept an eye on her that night. Maybe it was because he didn’t know the rider and knew she was clueless about this life. Maybe he was bored. He couldn’t say.

  But he saw the rider that brought her there get her nice and wasted then try to fuck her on the table in the center of the lounge. When she pushed him off, another girl, who was also not part of the normal crowd, who had no idea the guy was not in the Club, volunteered to take her place. That whore wrapped her legs around the guy and went at it. The rider was happy—his drunk ass was getting some—the girl was happy cuz she thought she was fucking a Son. Amber…she was sick.

  She puked all over the bar. Some laughed, some tried to help her, but she ran all the way down the hall. She ended up in Church and ran right through the door, searching for a bathroom. Men and women had died for less; Church was sacred ground. Territory you didn’t cross.

  Talon followed her in there, locked the door behind him. He wasn’t in the mood to tell the others to let her be. Things like that would make a man look weak. The night was already out of control as it was.

  He stood outside the bathroom as she retched. Her bag was on the floor beside her, a chemistry book poking out of it. That made it all the worse as it confirmed what Talon thought of her—some college kid just looking for a fun night got in over her head.

  When she finally looked up and saw him she flung herself against the wall, scared, thinking he was after something.

  Compassion. He’d had it that night. He asked her name. Asked all there was to know about her. And she answered, between the times she was sick that was. Talon learned that she was out of money, that she couldn’t finish school, was about to lose her place. He learned she had next to no family. A host of other things that made her so downright average that he was no longer wondering why she went so far off the deep end and ended up at the club.

  He made a deal with her that night. He’d pay for her school, and he’d pay for her to have a place to live. The conditions? She was to never show up at the club again, and once she graduated she would work for one year for him. After that, she’d move. Far away from New Orleans. She’d start over fresh.

  Amber did finish school. Without having to work to support herself she finished in record time with high grades. She’d started working for Talon a few months back. The only part of this deal that she had broken was showing back up in his club.

  The night of the raid, after all that settled, she pulled up in her little smart car. She wore short leather shorts that barely made a difference on her long legs, a tight silk top that clung to her endowed chest, and her hair, fire red, was down in long ringlets. She didn’t look anything like the Goth wannabe he had saved the last time she was there.

  Head after head turned, watched her walk by, watched the leather snug on her ass. Apparently low profile was not on her radar in any way. Not long after she was there, she was dancing with Tisk on the stage, on those poles. Talon would bet she could buy another car with the money people were throwing at her. The only smart thing she did was keeping eye contact with him to the bare minimum. Apparently that wasn’t enough though, if Tisk noticed.

  Now, Amber was in jeans, ordinary nothing to write home about jeans, and a silk button up shirt, along with a lab coat. Her hair was conservatively pulled back in a low ponytail.

  At first, she was so into what she was doing that she didn’t sense him, but when she looked over her shoulder a full body blush washed down her.

  Talon tilted his head slightly. “There’s my naughty girl.”

  Amber swallowed nervously. “We, uh, we have the last order done, or will by the end of the day.”

  “Good. We have to shut this clinic down.”

  “Again?” she asked as her hazel eyes went wide.

  The only reason they were shutting this clinic down was because the center was ready to go under serious renovations, the kind that needed inspectors to sign off on. They were going to step away until all the red tape was gone, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

  He stalked forward slowly. Out of instinct Amber shifted back slightly. Talon was massive in the tiny room, and she was clearly the prey he was hunting.

  “This would be the second one we’ve shut down where you were on the staff.”

  “You said the last one just needed to be changed up.”

  That was true, she was new there, barely out of training. There was no reason to tell her there was something amiss. That the Sons were going to have to deal with it. “I did.”

  “Same with this one?” Amber asked.

  Talon leisurely moved forward again. With each step, Amber stepped back, only three steps and she was against the wall.

  “You and me had a deal.”

  She didn’t say a word.

  Talon lifted his hand, let his fingertips start at the crown of her head and slide down, loving the blush that was scorching her, loving how her chest was rising and falling. “My little pet. The little one I put through school.” He tilted his head. “I took care of you, didn’t I?” he asked as he reached her neck and his palm carefully cupped it. He could feel her rapid heartbeat throbbing against his hand. Hell, he would swear he could smell the want seeping from her pores.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  Talon slid his hand down and those silk buttons popped off as if they were never there, baring her chest. He let his stare drop to her cleavage. “So why did you come into my club, dressed that way, dancing that way? That’s my house, Amber.”

  “Tisk.”

  “What?” Talon said as his fingertips moved across her chest nice and slow.

  “Tisk, she said she knew you were helping me, and if I didn’t come she’d tell Reveca. She wanted me to come so you would think we were friends. She said she needed your trust.”

  “And you did. Didn’t think to call me.”

  Amber unconsciously pushed her chest forward before she spoke. “I had two missed calls from the club. You didn’t answer when I called back. An hour later she called me and said you were looking for me, that you wanted me there.”

  “In my club. In front of my boys. In my woman’s house,” Talon said with a lifted brow, pointing out that for a girl with book smarts she was an idiot.

  “I was scared not to go and I was scared to go. When I saw you were mad I left.”

  “It took you two hours to figure out I was mad?”

  “Tisk said you had to play your role, that you were liking it.”

  Talon cupped a breast in his hand and Amber gasped. He leaned in. “Have I ever fucked you, Amber?” His other hand reached down between her legs, between the thick barrier of her jeans, and squeezed. “Have I ever slid inside you—made you scream?”

  “No,” Amber breathed, melting under his touch.

  Talon moved back, stopped every caress at once, waited for her to open her eyes once again. “Then why in the fuck would you think I would fuck you in my club that night? Or any night?”

  Amber’s eyes watered, and she shook her head. “I just don’t get you.”

  “What is there not to get? Go to school, graduate, work, leave.”

  “Then don’t look at me like that.”

  “With pity? Because that’s what got us both here. And if you fall for any guy who looks at you that way then it’s no longer a mystery as to how you became some drunk kid watching her date fuck another woman years ago.”

  “It was a mistake, okay? I won’t
listen to her.”

  Talon lifted his chin. “How do you know her?”

  Amber’s gaze dropped, she shook her head.

  “Answer. Me,” Talon growled.

  “She moved into my old place,” she said in a tear soaked voice. “I didn’t switch up my mail. She called me and I came and got it, we talked. She said we should hang out. I saw her at this bar I always go to and we talked some more. She told me that scene was boring, that the real party was at the Boneyard.” Amber squinted her eyes closed and open before she spoke again. “She must have read an expression I didn’t know I was giving. She said something like ‘oh, you’ve been there.’ She said you all were her family. Tried to get me to go all the time. When I wouldn’t she assumed I was afraid of Reveca. Said the only reason to fear her would be if I wanted a Son, then laughed and said I surely did.”

  “You didn’t think to tell me any of this?”

  “I haven’t seen you in months. That’s how long I’ve known her. I thought she was a friend. Someone fun to hang out with.”

  “Tisk?”

  “I know. I saw who she really was that night. She wasn’t like that around me before. She told me to dress hot, that if I did then no one would mess with me, to walk with an attitude and I’d fit in. I’m sorry. I’ve ignored every call since that night. I swear.”

  This whole deal was going to cause Talon nothing but hell, and he’d deal with it, but right now he needed Amber and he planned to use her until he had no need for her any longer.

  “You’re going to be honest with me right now.”

  “I’m always honest,” she said with watery eyes.

  “Has Holden ever approached you?”

  “I don’t know a Holden,” she said with a shake of her head like she wanted to make sure it was the truth.

  “Old biker, yellow dingy hair, hunched over shoulders? He come to the last clinic?”

  “I didn’t see any biker but you there. I swear.”

  “Nothing stuck out to you those first few weeks?”

  Amber stared forward for a second. “Samples.”

  “What?” Talon said as rage came over his expression.

  “Hemmingway. The guy who trained me. When he went over the drops and the deliveries he was all about how that was the only way it would happen, then he hesitated, corrected himself, said that maybe, once in a blue moon someone might come by for a sample. He said you guys did that if you were shopping for new buyers. I didn’t think it was odd until I was here for a while and Thrash went over the procedure for this clinic. He said never give anything out, stressed to push the alarm button if anyone ever came for anything. I was going to tell you about what Hemmingway said but the next time I saw you…”

  “You were dry humping a pole in my club, feeling up Tisk’s wannabe ass as you did.”

  Amber blushed and looked down. “Look, I was nervous. I had a few drinks and such before I went just to loosen me up…I might have had too much.”

  “And such.”

  “Nothing from here. Prescribed meds that I know how to get the best impact out of.”

  Talon glared for a second. “I’m moving you to another clinic. You’re going to talk to that staff, a few were on Hemmingway’s team. You’re going to find out who knows a Holden, who did talk to him. Exact dates and times.”

  He pulled a sample of Black from his pocket. “You’re going to tell me exactly what is in this drug. Every ingredient and every effect.”

  Amber nodded.

  Talon went to leave, but turned at the door. “Stay the fuck away from Tisk. I don’t care who approaches you, you never admit to knowing me to anyone. If someone so much as speaks my name to you, you better tell me.”

  One tear-filled nod. “I’m sorry.”

  Talon shook his head as he left. He thought for sure Amber was smart enough not to fuck with people like Tisk, that she had learned her lesson that one dark night, but apparently he was wrong.

  Now he was going to have to deal with the Goth wannabe witch. She surely thought Amber would be leverage to hold over his head. She was going to figure out how wrong she was real fast.

  Chapter Two

  This girl was determined to die. Reveca was sure of it. In all the ages she had brought souls back she had never once, not even when she had no fucking clue what she was doing, had this many issues with a new immortal.

  Immortal is strange word, one which doesn’t really add up to its definition, at least not in this realm of life. For in this realm of life no one has seen the Gods they worship, the only beings who clearly should own that title.

  Immortal to Reveca meant something different. It meant the body didn’t age. It meant the energy the body was made of moved at a faster rate, making it impossible for gravity to work its charm. It meant the body healed too fast to fear mortal wounds, real sickness.

  Beyond that, everything could die. She could take down any one of her immortals; one spell, a few choice words and she could walk them to death, or let them linger in her Edge, watch them grow absolutely mad if she willed it.

  Surely there were other ways as well, ways the darkest of immortals, those who lurked with magic even Reveca wouldn’t touch, could conjure up. But thus far Reveca’s primary enemy, Zale, had yet to surface with any of those deathly blows. He was too busy trying to stop her from her skilled terminations.

  This right here was making Reveca question every conviction she had. She of all people should be able to get one little witchling to come about.

  Gwinn liked that windowsill, perched herself in it for the entire first day after the raid. The next, Reveca got her out of it, tried to get her back in the swing of practicing her craft. Two spells in and she told Reveca she needed to zone out, and she did. She laid in her bed in the dark room with her eyes closed, slowly breathing in. And she’d been that way since then. Not even Shade could get a rise out of her.

  This is the point she should call in Jamison, even Saige, but Reveca’s pride was stopping her. She still hadn’t digested what King had said, his claim that he was a sidekick to a powerful God she didn’t believe in, a fucking Escort, and that Gwinn was one, too.

  Gwinn’s eyes were golden when she first came back. Every single time before that meant shifter. She has yet to even accidently do that. At first Reveca thought that the natural witch in her was what was overriding the shifting. Now she didn’t know what to think about any of this.

  Going to Jamison or Saige and asking if this Escort business had any truth would open up a whole new hell, or rather an old one, where their beliefs would be tossed in her face once again. She didn’t want to face them until she dug up whatever this history between Cashton and King was. When she had ammo to fire at them when they tried to make her believe whatever nonsense they were clinging to.

  Even if she did manage to speak to them and avoid the whole faith topic, her sins would come up. Escorts feed off emotion, a certain kind, which is energy. And that’s what a few of Reveca’s immortals did as well, only they didn’t feed off one emotion, they fed off all energy. So in effect they fed off all of them.

  Saige had always coupled her argument that Reveca was birthing myths with the theory she was doing that by pulling from Escorts. She said their energy was ripe in the dark essence that Reveca had to use to get the grip of death off of those she brought back. That dark energy was the only thing that seemed to make death cower in some way, listen to her.

  Reveca might have considered that argument if every soul she brought back had those cravings or even tended to crave one specific emotion, but that just wasn’t the case. She had immortals that could shift, ones with an inner beast, ones which were connected to more than one animal instinct, those who could see into minds, push thoughts—she had it all. This connection to fictional Escorts was just as ostentatious as the belief in the sovereigns that supposedly ruled them, the ones who were set to perish so ‘new and improved’ ones could rise.

  Bull. Shit. No, she was going to figure this out one way or a
nother. She needed to get to GranDee’s garden to make the spell she had in mind. It would be a bold move, but she’d rather deal with that than her family any day of the week.

  She settled Gwinn in her room then made her way outside to her bike.

  King was in the last bay not far from where she was parked. She hesitated then swallowed her pride, or maybe fear, and walked over to him.

  “I’m heading out,” she said to him.

  He slowly looked up from the hood he was under. “Congratulations.”

  “What does that mean?” she shot back. “You want out? Want to leave this Boneyard? Got someone you need to see?”

  He smirked. “I told you once. No one needs to know I’m here. I got plenty to keep me occupied.”

  She doubted he was being sarcastic about the latter point. It’s not like his boundaries on this property were narrow. It would take awhile to feel caged in there.

  She narrowed her eyes for an instant then spoke. “Oh yeah, that’s right, you’re in hiding.”

  “And apparently still insane in your mindset.”

  Reveca clinched her fist. “You can not come back here and ask me to believe in a faith which abandoned me.”

  King’s stare questioned her harsh tone but he never said a word.

  “It failed me when it took you. The power you made me fall in love with. It failed when I needed it. When we needed it. I don’t think it was ever there. I think shit happens because it has to. Apathy. The birth of it is an omen to the end. Shit has to happen so we care, so no end comes. It happened to me and something sure as hell happened to you.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another.”

  He dropped his head, closed his eyes for a second, then slowly opened them as he raised his gaze to hers. “To what end?”

  “To what end?” she repeated as if that was the stupidest question she had ever heard. How could he not see an end? Validation. Validation that she had a right to move on. Justifiable proof he, too, had moved on—for the fact that in all of time, there was never a time for their love. It just wasn’t meant to be.