Disloyal Souls: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 8) Read online

  King nodded sagaciously.

  Dagen sneered. “Then you know Zosime has felt every single female I have been with. You know she experienced my emotions as I did. You know that you willingly tortured part of my soul. There is no fixing this.” Dagen’s mind caught up with him. “How... how can I be an enemy to myself and a killer of our kind?”

  King went to speak, but his words were absent. The lore he knew was catching up to the moment he was in. If all Throngs were destroyed, all but one, then it was the first and the last. The members of the Throng would carry primordial seeds. Some would be drawn to each other. Others would mate beyond the Throng. Their children were to replenish sacred primordial souls that would change the course of fate for legions of souls.

  For the members who were drawn to each other, their seed would amplify the child to the point where overtaking them, or the Throng they lead would be a tested experience. Luck would always land in their favor. They could win a battle without a single drop of blood falling to the earth.

  But Dagen was a Dark Angel now. It would take some serious, heavy, dangerous magic for him to ever give a woman a child. The kind of magic that would destroy the power behind a primordial in the first place. Perhaps Revelin knew what he was doing after all. The threat of Dagen’s power was long gone.

  “She was gone, your power was,” King said, not meaning for the words to be spoken at all. Dagen had no heir, and neither did Zosime. What was Dagen saying? His lover was either living another life, or her spirit was at unrest. Learning to loath him more day by day as Dagen went about the only life he knew he had.

  Wait, did he say there was no fixing this? King pondered in his thoughts. Was he saying his Throng, that he was oblivious to before this day, was broken? King wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or mournful.

  “I don’t fucking understand any of this,” Dagen said as he weakly moved to the side of the bed and let his legs drape over the edge.

  After a moment, he spoke. “Ambrosia is dead.”

  King saw no need to respond.

  “Her power was absorbed.”

  Again, lore King knew was flooding to the surface. The entire reason Throng’s fell was self-destruction. Someone tainted them with hunger for power.

  “Did you see her?” King asked. “Zosime?” All the eras of time he had at Dagen’s side was fresh in his mindset. Placing himself in Dagen’s shoes was not easy. If Reveca had felt King with even one woman, she would never forgive him. She was still pissed at him for taking Jamison’s daughter on a few dates.

  Dagen’s strong arms shook as he balanced his weight on the bed. “I felt her,” his words quaked. “I didn’t know what I was feeling. First, it was to fight, and kill Ambrosia. I could do that. That was what I was born to do, kill. Then... then I don’t know. This power started to circle through all these beings. I knew what they knew, and they knew what I knew. I tried to hold back. Keep my business— the Faction’s business— mine. But it wasn’t possible.”

  Dagen’s eyes focused on the thin air before him as he replayed it all again. “Then it was over. I was ready to dance on that bitches grave, but remorse stopped me. One by one other beings vanished...then I saw her. A flood of memories and emotions came over me.”

  “Where is she?” King may not have been a man of many words, but he was willing to go anywhere and say anything to this female to ease her pain. Under any other circumstances, he could have eased over the gruesome parts of what him and Dagen endured. Knowing this female felt Dagen’s exaltation, every single time...

  The Creator himself would not have the words to make this okay.

  “Stay away,” Dagen said calmer than he meant to. He felt heavy, so heavy that he was sure gravity was made of a thousand knives.

  “I do this for you, not my own gain.”

  “It is your gain you need to worry about,” Dagen said moving to stand. “Absolve me.”

  King furrowed his brow, doubting he heard what he had.

  “Do it now.”

  “All this time and there is no room for forgiveness? One slip into a fever sleep and you want to quit? Not just me, but all the men you’ve lead.”

  Dagen clenched his jaw in fury. “A fever sleep? That is what you are calling it. Not an epic battle of power where a demon who had slaughtered her family and then some was brought down?”

  “You want war credits, you got ‘em. Any spoils I should hand over?”

  “Fucking absolve me.”

  “No.”

  Rage shook Dagen as he spoke. “Do not ask me to shred my loyalty. It’s all I have.”

  “Loyal souls stay,” King countered.

  Dagen lifted his chin. “I’m loyal to you by choice. Loyal to a supernatural Throng by birth. I don’t understand what I am or what I have to do to get my life right, but I know I’m dangerous.”

  King swayed his head. “If Revelin had any clue you belonged to a Throng he would’ve never put us in the same cell, much less let you leave with me. He can’t sense us here.”

  “You don’t know that,” Dagen said holding his resolve. “I told you. I know what my Throng knows, and they know what I know. If not Revelin another God. Until I have control over what this is I command you to absolve me.”

  “Fucking command me,” King said coming eye to eye with him. “Try again. You never feared the Gods before, why now?” For fuck’s sake Dagen knew all the Gods by name. He’d been to their lairs. They were not some mysterious almighty power to him or any other Dark Angel. They were rulers whose time had run out.

  If King absolved Dagen, he’d become mortal. One wrong shove from an immortal Son could do him in—hell, food poisoning could. There was no way in hell King was leaving his best friend, his brother, defenseless at this stage in the war.

  “It’s not the Gods,” Dagen said losing some of the rage in his eyes. “It’s Reveca.”

  King leaned back struggling to see where this conversation was going.

  “She killed her,” Dagen’s tone was broken and weak. “I don’t know if it was her goal or her mercy. Either way, Reveca taunted Revelin, carelessly led him to me, and once I was gone she put a dagger in Zosime’s heart.”

  The sick pit in King’s gut that he was just about over started to spin again. He went to speak, to say something to defend his soul mate, but he had nothing. No one would understand her rage the way he did. He only understood it because he felt it.

  “There is more,” Dagen said before King ever found his words. “She’s angered the strongest of us all.” Dagen sighed. “Toril is matched with Scorpio. They are ancient. Toril watched as Reveca stole me, Zosime, then Talon, and nearly Scorpio from the Throng.”

  King swayed his head. “She had no idea what she was doing. Intent was not present.”

  “She was a tool, King. Reveca thought she was hunting dark gods. They were baiting her, pushing her to a place that would put us all in a compromised position. The Throng has every reason to believe Reveca is as evil as the beings who guided her.”

  King’s entire body tensed. The threat was clear. They were coming after his woman.

  “Absolve me. If you do not there will be no place you can hide her. What I know, they will know.”

  “Self sacrifice,” King said accusingly with disgusted expression strapped across his face.

  “I don’t have anything to lose,” Dagen said coldly. “You took any sense of self I had long ago.”

  “I didn’t take shit from you. I saved you from the agony. Do you think if you knew you would’ve been able to be abstinent? Do you think you would still be standing if you were?”

  “I know damn well I would not have been entangled with a witchling inside this last year, or any other female before or after her.” He pounded his chest. “There is a hole here that could never be filled, only stayed for the tiniest of moments I felt ecstasy.” He laughed absently, coldly. “And now all those moments will be the dagger that finally puts me out of my fucking misery. Absolve me.”

 
“Fuck off,” King said with a sneer.

  Dagen stepped forward shifting his weight like the predator he was. “Do you not fucking get it? It’s her or me. You got reason to live. Let me go and run far with your female.”

  “I will not run, and you will not bow out.”

  “You stubborn fuck,” Dagen growled as he turned from him and started to pace as fast as his rushing thoughts.

  King stopped him with one cold grip of his vim. Slowly, he circled Dagen the way Revelin used to circle them both. In a way, that clearly stated who was in charge and would remain so. “You will not return home. You know nothing of how to reach it. This is your realm. The only leave you have from it is to the side of your female wherever she may be. Your focus is on understanding your heritage, and pleading for your woman’s mercy. You will be relentless in this task. For it pleases me.”

  Kings words were more than an order, they were a curse that would bind Dagen to obey, no matter how much he fought against them.

  Dagen sneered in his hold. “This is not enough. You are not safe from me.”

  “It is,” King said. “Your vow and my spell holds; it speaks your true desires.”

  Dagen’s pissed expression faded as he looked into the eyes of his brother. King was right. Dagen had no desire, even after remembering Reveca put a dagger in Zosime, to seek revenge and slay Reveca. Yes, he’d likely never forgive her, but he was far too loyal and loved King too much to take Reveca from him. And yes, understanding who he was, all that was forgotten and finding his way back to something that gave him true humanity was what he wanted.

  Just the thought of seeing Zosime had his soul pulsing out of control. One calm nod from Dagen sent King on his way.

  Dagen struggled to understand how when the day started he was sure of who he was, and what he was meant to do, and now at its end, he didn’t have the slightest clue.

  When he heard the floor creak, he looked up to see Dust lingering in the threshold. Dagen knew who he was,

  that this male was a deadly threat lurking about, currently holding the title of president. He also knew this male understood what Dagen was going through then. That he felt the flood of emotions. Not just exaltation, but all of them, drowning him.

  “If I take you to her, you won’t be able to leave for some time.”

  “Where?” Dagen demanded.

  “Here, but not here.” Dust sauntered toward him. “You can either stay in her prison with her or linger outside with us and try to balance your morals.”

  Vow or no vow, Dagen didn’t trust himself. In time, when he truly faced what had just been revealed to him, there was no telling what his reaction would be. He wanted to believe that he’d never hurt King, never take his female away. But it was always better to be safe than sorry.

  Besides, he’d just vowed to go to his female. He had little choice at all in this.

  “Where are we off to, then?” Dagen asked.

  When he followed Dust out, he clenched his fists and gathered all his courage. One way or another, all he’d ever known was gone. What awaited him was a mystery he was less than eager to understand.

  Season Three: Volume Two

  Episode Six

  Chapter One

  For every victory, there is a blameless victim, a soul who never stepped on the battlefield at all. More times than not there is far more than one. Talon had always thanked the war Gods for his conquests. And he had always asked for mercy for those lost on both sides. He was a warrior, yes, but heartless he was not. He’d felt and seen the scars of battle long before any child should be asked to.

  His latest triumph was weighted differently. It was only hours old, the hum of adrenaline was still pumping through him. It would be wise for him to wait for the rush to fade, but he knew on some supernatural level, there would be no down time for a long while.

  Talon had to face this. He had to tell his daughter that her mother, the female she had just now discovered, was gone. It was hard to gauge where Adair would be with any of this. In one moment Talon was sure Adair would always despise her mother for leaving her with the abusive old woman Talon had rescued her from. On the other, it was natural to be curious about the heritage strumming through you. Everyone knew Adair was a curious soul by nature.

  Talon was slow to enter the home Reveca had taken residence in. No matter how high his senses were, he still found it impossible to clearly track her anymore. King’s power had given her the ability to appear at will and vanish the same way. He’d taken precautions, showered and cleaned up. With any luck, whatever scent of Saige’s lingering on him was long gone. By the grace of the Creator, in the past Reveca could discerned the vim Saige gave him, she often mistook it for her own, the vibe of her coven that she had always known.

  God only knew what she was sensing now. He just wasn’t ready for the sisters to go head to head. Talon wasn’t priding himself on being something to fight over amid all that was going down. He just knew how Reveca’s mind worked. When she was drowning in a fight she could not win, it was her norm to latch on to another. Then never claim the other at a loss, but simply walked away from a battle she lost interest in.

  Reveca would never convince the Sons to kill Scorpio, if King had any sense at all, he’d leave this demand alone too. Especially if Talon had gauged that last conversation with Jamison right and heard that Reveca intended to barter with dark gods to get what she wanted. Reveca’s wish would remain un-granted. Beyond this, she had ticked her coven off.

  If he knew her, she would turn on a dime and refocus her rage right on Saige if she had the slightest sense that there was any hidden affection between Talon and Saige.

  Inside he found the home serene. No sense of ill will was present. A small grin touched his lips as he gave credit to Little Dove, no one could stay enraged long around her. Talon moved through the home until he reached the hidden library. The door was left open by a tiny fraction that gave Talon a good view of everything.

  Judge was leaned back in a chair watching Little Dove on the floor, and she was watching Adair read feverishly over a text as she stood by the table. Their brows were drawn, and curiosity and defense were mingling in their expression. In the stillness of the moment Talon found a new level of hate for Ambrosia, she had robbed him of so much that a father should have had.

  Adair, his only child, was a scared girl before he ever laid eyes on her, his granddaughter was long past the stage of infancy before he knew she existed. All the first words, tastes, and steps were missed. It was a high price to pay, but one he would pay again if it meant their safety, that he could walk in on a thousand moments like this from here on out.

  When he nudged the door open a bit more, he never had the chance to see the shock in Judge and Adair’s expression at the sight of his newfound strength. Little Dove had taken off at a sprint and leaped into his arms. Talon lifted her and spun her the way he had spun her mother when was she was just a girl. The laugh was the same. The joy was amplified.

  “Papa,” she giggled. It was an odd name to attach to someone who looked as young and vital as Talon, but to him, no name had ever fit him better. “Daddy said you were still at a meeting,” Little Dove said as Talon settled her on his hip and she draped her arms over his broad shoulders.

  “Just finished,” he said reaching to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear.

  “Did Gram come home too?”

  Gram was the name she had given Talley.

  “He did, you should ask your dad to take you out to the shop to see him.”

  “You won’t come?” she asked disappointedly.

  “In a bit. I’m hunting for a surprise now.”

  “What kind?”

  “Chocolate chip kind,” he said with a wink. Because of Little Dove’s hankering for the flavor, the Boneyard was now stocked with gallons of the best ice cream on the market, in every way it was sold.

  She giggled with joy then slid down him and went to pull her father to his feet.

  Judge was stari
ng off into the distance, swimming in all he could see in Talon’s mind. Like always, Saige was blocked behind a coveted wall in Talon’s mind, but the battle Talon had endured was front and center for Judge to analyze all he wanted.

  Talon gave Judge a short nod, one that simply said we need a minute here. Absently, Judge picked up his daughter then kissed Adair on the cheek, never taking his eyes off Talon as he did.

  Adair didn’t notice how taken Judge was by the visions he had seen, she was wide-eyed too. Talon waited for the door to close and to hear the footsteps of Judge to be well on their way toward the lounge before he moved closer.

  “Were you not locked in with a coven all night, do you not need to chill a bit?” Talon asked.

  Adair gasped. “Small talk? Really?”

  Talon lifted one shoulder, the act made him more boyish than like an aged immortal.

  “Judge didn’t say shit, but I could tell he thought you were dead.”

  Talon glanced at the books on the table. How old they were and the dust on them alone told Talon they were works better left alone.

  “And what was your plan then?” he asked lifting a brow. “To take care of Little Dove, I’m sure. Keep yourself right and safe so Judge can stay focused on the threats movin’ in on us.”

  “No,” Adair said crossing her arms. “My focus was to journey to the fiery pit my mother plays house in and get you back.”

  Talon dropped his gaze from Adair’s. If there was any degree of delight in his stare, she didn’t need to see it. She may take it as him being proud of her right now, but in time, after she knew what had happened she could very well see it as gloating.

  “It’s gone, all the death is gone,” Adair said in a tone that reflected her shock. “What happened?”

  Talon tilted his head as the strain of finding a way to explain it all began to surface, only to fail at the last minute.

  “Do not tell me this is some goodbye.” Adair’s voice trembled, “That she already has you and this our last time together.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  Adair moved forward, eyeing him from head to toe in wonder. “I said so because I have never once seen you this way. So light and free.”