I.T.LUCAS

DON'T READ BEFORE FINISHING BOOK 94

Chapter 1: Fenella 

Life was good in the immortals' village, Fenella decided as she stirred a packet of sugar into her cappuccino cup. Spending a Sunday afternoon in the outdoor café with her new best friends and exchanging flirtatious smiles with hunky immortals males was a very pleasant way to pass the time.  

The lunch crowd was thinning out, though, the residents moving on to whatever activities immortals indulged in when they weren't plotting world-saving missions or running from evil Doomers and other boogeymen.

God knew there were many of those.

The world was filled with scum, and she doubted that this place was as idyllic as it looked. Every inch of the village was meticulously maintained, and everyone was too bloody good-looking and cheerful. Frankly, she preferred the Kra-ell with their somber faces and pent-up violent energy. They looked dangerous, deadly even, and they didn't bother with trying to look civilized and harmless like the immortals.

"Earth to Fenella." Jasmine waved her hand in front of her face. "You've gone from looking content like a happy kitten to frowning like the sky is about to fall."

Fenella winced. "Not a good analogy, given that Din is in the air right now."

"Are you worried?" Kyra asked.

"I am, but that's not why I was frowning. I was just thinking how bloody nice everyone and everything here is and that it can't be real. The funny thing is that the aliens are the ones who look normal. They are not as sickeningly saccharine as the immortals."

"You mean the Kra-ell?" Jasmine asked. "Because, for your information, we are all aliens here. Well, part aliens is a more accurate description. We are mostly human with just some godly mixed in." 

Fenella waved a hand. "Of course I mean the Kra-ell. They are the ones who look alien." 

"I think it's because of Din." Kyra took a sip of her coffee. "And I don't blame you for being anxious. I don't know much about international travel, but I've never heard of anyone encountering so much trouble to get from one place to another." 

Kyra was right, and Fenella knew that her irritation had more to do with worry over Din's travel woes than the village being too perfect. It had been one thing after the other, but the stubborn guy insisted that the universe was not trying to tell him to stay home. In his opinion, the universe was piling up difficulties to make him work harder to get to her, so he could prove to her that he was serious this time. 

As if he hadn't been serious before and hadn't spoken to his best friend for fifty years because of her. 

It was sweet, and she wanted to believe that he was right about the universe just testing his resolve, but that nagging churning in her stomach said otherwise. Something bad was going to happen, and her gut knew it. 

"Is this the third or fourth delay?" Jasmine asked.

"It's the third." Fenella leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "First, it was the accident on the way to the airport, then the next flight was canceled, and then the storm hit, and all outgoing flights from Edinburgh were canceled. I don't know why I'm worrying about someone I can barely remember." She waved a hand. "Look at all these guys. I can have my pick. Why am I waiting for someone who already has a bad track record?"

"You're curious." Kyra cast her a knowing look. "You need to see the guy who's spent five decades obsessing over you."

"Yeah," Fenella admitted. "I guess that's as good of an explanation as any. But enough about my non-existent love life." Fenella gave Kyra a knowing smile. "Tell us how the meeting with your ex-husband went." 

Kyra lifted her coffee cup and took a sip. "It went well. Eva's disguise worked flawlessly, making me look the age he expected me to be, and he didn't suspect anything. Poor Boris blamed himself for my disappearance, thinking that I was dead, so he was very happy to see that I was alive and well. I think I gave him closure and got some for myself." She smiled. "I felt like I couldn't really start my new life with Max before tying up that loose end. Also, Jasmine deserves to have both parents for a change, and I told him that I intend for us to visit him from time to time. It made him happy." 

"Good." Fenella tore off a piece of the most delicious chocolate croissant she'd ever tasted and put it in her mouth. "So you came back to the village and celebrated by shagging Max all night long." 

Kyra snorted. "You are terrible, Fenella. My daughter is sitting here with us." 

"It's okay, Mom." Jasmine put her hand on Kyra's arm. "Don't feel shy. There is nothing you can say that will shock me, trust me. Think of me as your best friend rather than your daughter."

"I'd like to think of you as both." 

"Oh, that's so sweet." Fenella took another piece of the chocolaty goodness and ate it greedily.

"Let's just say that a lot of pent-up energy was released." Kyra sighed. "I'm still rediscovering it all. Max was my first consensual sexual experience in nearly two and a half decades."

The momentary darkness in Kyra's expression reminded Fenella of what they'd all been through. For all the lightness of their afternoon coffee date, they'd each survived horrors that would haunt them for a long time. 

Maybe even forever. 

"I'm so glad I don't remember most of it," Kyra said. "Poor Yasmin doesn't have that luxury. She's grieving her husband, and I don't know how to help her." 

Jasmine nodded. "She and the children didn't even have the closure of a burial ceremony."

"How are the children of your other sisters doing?" Fenella asked.

"All of them have been traumatized to some extent," Kyra said. "Being taken from the life they knew, however imperfect it was, and thrust into this completely foreign environment." She shook her head. "I need to talk to my sisters about seeing the clan psychologist."

"You need to see Vanessa as well, Mom," Jasmine said.

"I know." Kyra leaned back in her chair. "If the Clan Mother can't help me with the retrieval of my memories, I might contact Vanessa. I heard that she's very busy, though, and Yasmin needs her much more than I do."

"When are you going to see the Clan Mother?" Jasmine asked.

"When I am summoned. I know she wants me to help her find her beloved, so I expect it to be soon." Kyra put her hand over the pendant she always wore. "Although I really don't know how I will be able to help her. Finding missing people has never been one of my gifts." 

"I'll help you," Jasmine said. "I wasn't able to do it on my own, but I have a feeling that together, we will be stronger than the sum of our parts." 

Fenella lifted her hand. "Hey, maybe I can help too. After all, we seem strangely connected somehow. I think the Fates Max keeps talking about are trying to tell us something. Right?"

Mother and daughter regarded her with curious expressions. 

"You might be onto something," Jasmine said. "Do you know that Amanda, Kian's sister, tried to get Max interested in me? He took one look at me and disliked me instantly because I reminded him of you." 

Fenella waved a dismissive hand. "I heard that story, and I think it's absurd. We look nothing alike."

Jasmine was tall and curvy. She wasn't carrying extra weight or anything, but she was a big woman who occupied a lot of space. Compared to her, Fenella felt almost petite. 

"We have similar coloring and the cleft in our chins." Jasmine pointed at Fenella's, which was much less pronounced than hers. "Anyway, he was mad at you for coming between him and Din."

"Men are so bloody ridiculous," Fenella muttered. "And they blame everything on women. I didn't even know Din had feelings for me, but Max did, or should have known if he considered Din his best friend. It's his fault, not mine."

"He knows that now," Kyra said, "Max has matured a lot since then."

"Yeah, he has." Fenella remembered their talk on the way back from Iran. "We have sorted it out. But I still don't get why you reminded him of me. You're tall and sexy, and I'm not."

"You are beautiful," Jasmin said. "I never liked my height or the size of my hips. I would have loved to look as delicate as you."  

"Delicate?" Fenella barked out a laugh. "No one who knows me well would call me delicate, love. I've always compensated with my big mouth and even bigger attitude."

Smiling, Kyra nodded. "I'm starting to realize that about you. I bet that's what Din fell in love with." 

"He doesn't know me, let alone love me." Fenella turned to Jasmine. "Speaking of my future with him, though, you promised me a tarot reading. Now that your mum's back with the cards, I could really use some mystical guidance."

Jasmine nodded. "I don't have them with me, but we can go to my house and do it there."

"Brilliant. I hope you have decent alcohol and mixers. I can make drinks you've never even heard of." 

Jasmine's eyes widened. "You should talk with Ingrid. Her partner runs the Hobbit Bar, and it's open only on weekends because he doesn't have help. You could work for him." 

Fenella hadn't tended bar since she'd left Scotland half a century before, but she still remembered many of the drinks she'd prepared back then. Besides, learning new ones was easy now that everything was accessible on the internet.

Having a job meant earning money, and she could use some for when she decided to leave this place. 

"I'll happily talk to the guy. What's his name?"

"Atzil," Jasmine said. "During the week, he works for Kalugal. He's his chef. That's why he can't open the bar midweek." 

Fenella grimaced. "So he's one of those former Doomers?"

Jasmine nodded. 

"I don't know if I can work for one of them," Fenella admitted. "After what his fellow Brother did to me…" she shivered. 

"Atzil is the nicest guy," Jasmine promised. "Don't hold his past against him. We've all done things we are not proud of, and in his case, he was born into that crap. It took tremendous will and good character to break free from the brainwashing and realize that he was working for evil incarnate."

"I guess." Fenella put what was left of the croissant in her mouth and concentrated on the sweetness to chase away bad memories.

"So, what's going on with Din?" Kyra asked. "When is he supposed to get here?"

"This evening, but after all the delays, I have a feeling he's not going to make it today either." Fenella sighed. "Although I have to admit that I actually feel a bit better than I did after the first two delays. Misfortune always comes in threes, so that should be it."

She didn't really believe it, but saying it made her feel a little less anxious. 

Kyra laughed, shaking her head. "You're that superstitious?"

"Says the woman who makes life-or-death decisions based on a magical pendant," Fenella shot back.

"Touché," Kyra acknowledged. "But the pendant actually works."

"So do my gut feelings," Fenella said. "They've kept me alive this long."

 

Chapter 2: Din 

 

Din stretched in the wide leather seat, grateful for the upgrade to business class. Normally, he didn't splurge on luxuries like this, but this was the third time he had rebooked a flight, so he'd given in to a small indulgence. If the Fates insisted on testing him with endless obstacles on his path to Fenella, he could at least travel in comfort.  

He closed his eyes, trying to picture Fenella and what she looked like now. Since she'd turned immortal, she probably hadn't changed much, but she'd said that she was harder now, so maybe her smile wasn't so bright anymore, and her eyes didn't sparkle with mischief and amusement like they used to when she bartended. She had been so beautiful, so full of life, and for some reason, she'd intimidated him, an immortal who had lived nearly half a millennium. 

Had he been afraid of falling in love with her? 

Probably. 

He'd thought that she was just a human girl, a bright and colorful butterfly whose lifespan was but a blink of an eye in the span of his. He couldn't have known that she had been a Dormant. 

Hell, back then, there had been no Dormants to be found.

Knowing that they had to exist among the human population, the clan had searched for them, investigating every rumor of witchcraft and supernatural ability, hoping to find a Dormant sparking it, and yet they'd found none.  

How had he been supposed to know that a Dormant was right there in front of his eyes, and he'd failed to recognize that her pull on him was more than just a normal attraction to a pretty girl?

No wonder that both he and Max had been obsessed with her. But Max had always been the cocky one, the one who had to win every bet, to bed every woman, and this time had been no different.

He'd seduced Fenella, inadvertently induced her transition, and left her without knowing that she'd turned immortal. The poor girl hadn't known what hit her, why all those changes were happening to her, so she'd left her home and started roving the world in search of answers. 

It was his fault that she'd suffered. His and Max's.

If he hadn't been such a prideful idiot, such a stubborn fool, he would have gone to see her after Max had left her so he could have her. They could've been together for half a century already, and she wouldn't have experienced all the horrors that had been inflicted upon her. 

The Doomer who'd done that to her was still alive in the clan's dungeon in Los Angeles, and Din had every intention of changing that situation. He would have to ask for Kian's permission, and he would have to wait until every last bit of information was extracted from the monster, but he had a right to avenge his mate, even if she didn't accept him. 

"Are you okay?" the woman sitting next to him asked.

"Yes," he murmured without turning toward her, and keeping his eyes closed. 

He'd let himself get all worked up over that Doomer and his eyes were no doubt glowing, and his fangs were elongated. He had to get a hold of himself. 

"There is no shame in being scared of flying," she said. "I'm scared too. Would you like me to hold your hand?"

He realized that he was gripping the armrest so hard that it was groaning beneath his fingers. Under no circumstances could he allow her to hold his hand. He might crush hers accidentally. 

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll be alright in a couple of moments. I'm trying to concentrate on my breathing exercises."

That should get her to shut up and stop looking at him. 

"Oh, I see. I'll leave you alone to meditate then."

Thank the merciful Fates.

Soon, he would be in New York, and from there, he'd fly to Los Angeles. After all the broken travel arrangements, this final leg to Fenella felt like the end of a half-century vigil.  

He could almost imagine the look she would give him when he finally showed up at the village. Disbelief, maybe. Annoyance, perhaps. But under it all, he hoped for just a flicker of excitement. Or at least relief that he'd arrived in one piece.  

On some level, he was glad that she was so worried about him and imagined each delay as a bad omen. It meant that she cared for him. 

He could work with that. 

Musings about Fenella calmed the storm he'd created in his mind, and he started dozing off when the chime sounded, and a moment later, the pilot's calm but taut voice crackled through the cabin speakers.  

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We seem to be experiencing a mechanical issue with the landing gear. There is no need for alarm at this point. We are working on a solution."

What kind of a solution could they come up with in the air? And how were they going to land the aircraft without landing gear?" 

A collective ripple of alarm coursed through the cabin.

The woman beside him gasped, her knuckles going white around the cup of tea she was holding. "W-what does that mean?" she whispered, turning to Din as if he had an answer.  

"It means that we might need to land differently than planned," Din said, trying to keep his tone calm for her sake. "The crew will do all they can to fix it."

He certainly hoped they could do that. Even immortals couldn't survive a serious plane crash. Not that a jet landing on its belly would be fatal to him unless the whole thing caught fire and exploded. Still, he could potentially open one of the emergency doors and jump out. A fall would injure him but not kill him.

The same couldn't be said for the human passengers, though, and he couldn't just leave them to die. 

Another chime sounded. "Folks, we're working through checklists now. Air Traffic Control is clearing us for an emergency landing at JFK, but the runway might not be ideal if we can't get that nose gear down. We're exploring the possibility of putting her down on the water if needed. Please remain calm and listen to the flight crew's instructions."  

The woman next to Din let out a trembling breath. "Oh God, oh God...we are going to die!"  

Din placed his hand over hers. "It's all right," he said. "You're not going to die. We'll get through it."  

Her eyes flickered with tears. "I can't die like this. My kids expect me home tonight."  

"We won't die," he said firmly, pouring a little thrall into his words, just enough to calm her down. "Trust the pilots. They train for these kinds of scenarios."  

She nodded, closing her eyes and letting out a breath.

He wished someone could do him the same favor and thrall him so he would stop running through all the versions of things going wrong. 

Amid the hiss of the air conditioning, the cabin seemed unnaturally quiet as if everyone were holding their breath, and then the flight attendants began a demonstration of bracing positions, offering life vests and instructing passengers to remove shoes if needed before entering the slides.  

"Ladies and gentlemen," the captain's voice returned, "we're going to make an approach over the East River. We have partial success—one gear is locked, but the nose gear remains stuck. We plan an emergency landing on water if the nose fails to come down. The coast guard and rescue teams are on alert."  

A wave of gasps swept through the cabin. The woman beside him buried her face in her hands, shoulders trembling despite the thrall of confidence he'd sent into her mind. He moved an arm around her in a comforting gesture, though he doubted any comfort could banish her terror.  

The flight crew hurried down the aisle, checking seat belts and clearing away loose items. A flight attendant asked them to remove bulky clothing, stow glasses and laptops.  

Din clenched his jaw, heart pounding. He'd lived for a long time and survived plenty of calamities, but some dangers still triggered a primal fear. Glancing out the window, he could see the city's skyline in the distance, so tantalizingly close, yet no assurance they'd reach it safely.  

"Brace for impact!" The sudden command from the cockpit came as they began their descent. 

People screamed. Din bowed forward, arms over his head, breathing methodically. The woman beside him did the same, trembling and crying. The plane lurched. The engines roared, reverberating through metal and bone.  

A screeching wail cut through the hull, rattling overhead bins. Din squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on counting each second as they dropped altitude. The smell of burnt fuel tainted the recycled air.  

With a jarring impact, the aircraft skimmed across the water, the shriek of metal nearly deafening. The force knocked him forward, harness biting into his flesh. He clamped his arm over the woman, shielding her as best he could. Everything tilted. Water splashed against the windows in tumultuous sprays.  

Then they were skidding, the fuselage grinding with ear-splitting noise. A groan of stressed metal made him fear it might tear open. But by some miracle, the plane slowed. No roll, no shatter. Dimly, he registered the overhead bins had popped open, baggage tumbling out. Another jolt knocked the breath from him.  

And then…stillness. 

For a heartbeat, the only sounds were ragged breathing and the faint hiss of steam rising from the engines.  

The flight attendants sprang into action, unlatching emergency doors. Inflatable slides hissed open, some hitting the water, forming makeshift rafts. A wave of relieved sobbing rippled through the cabin. Outside, rescue vessels approached, bright lights strobing across the gloom.  

Din let out a breath as he unbuckled, then helped the trembling woman next to him. "We've made it," he said. 

She nodded in tearful disbelief.  

They shuffled into the aisle, shoulders brushing other frantic passengers. Everyone was in that startled, half-panicked trance that follows a near-disaster. Din guided the woman to an exit, offering words of reassurance to others who were on the verge of hysterics.  

Once out onto the rafts, they were met by rescue personnel.

An inflatable boat pulled alongside. Din helped the woman climb aboard, then followed. They made their way to the nearest barge, where paramedics were waiting. 

Standing on the barge's deck, Din took in the chaotic scene—passengers shivering in blankets, rescue crews coordinating, the plane partly submerged but miraculously intact.  

"Thank you," the woman whispered, hugging him briefly. "I don't even know your name."  

"Din," he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You should call your kids as soon as you can because this will be all over the news in minutes, and they will worry." 

"I will." She pulled a foil blanket tighter around her. "In a moment. I need to catch my breath. You should call your loved ones, too." 

"Indeed. I'll do so right away." 

 

 

 Chapter 3: Fenella 

 

 

As Fenella's phone rang, she glanced at the screen, and when she saw Din's name, her heart did that annoying little flip.

"Speak of the devil," she murmured, then answered the call. "Din? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, and hello to you too, Fenella." There was a hint of weariness in his tone but also amusement.

"You sound okay, which is a great relief given your bad luck lately."

"About that," Din said. "It seems your premonitions were on target."

Fenella's stomach dropped. "What happened?"

"We've just made an emergency landing," Din said. "Landing gear malfunction. The pilot decided that the river was the best option, and he was right. I don't want to think what would have happened if he tried to land on the ground with no wheels."

"Is everyone alright?" she asked.

"People are obviously shaken, but no one is seriously hurt. I just wanted to warn you before you see it on the news and imagine much worse than it actually was. All the passengers are fine, and they are putting us all up in hotels for the night. We'll fly out tomorrow afternoon."

Fenella closed her eyes, a chill running through her. "That's the fourth delay."

"I know what you're thinking," Din said. "But sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, lass. These things happen." 

He didn't sound convincing, and Fenella had a feeling he didn't believe it himself at this point. "Four times is not a coincidence. The universe is clearly trying to tell us something." 

Din chuckled. "And what would that be? That I should stay away from you?"

"Yes," Fenella said, though even to her own ears, she didn't sound convinced. "Not that I want you to stay away. It's just that I don't want you to die trying to get to me. Perhaps I should fly out to you?"

That was actually a genius plan. She could get out of the village without offending anyone. 

There was a pause. "I'm coming to you, love. I don't want you leaving the safety of the village for me. Maybe it's the devil who is putting all those obstacles in my way because it wants to lure you out of safety."

Her first response was to laugh, but Din hadn't sounded like he was making a joke or teasing. "Do you really believe that?"

He snorted. "At this point, I don't know what to believe. Evil is real. We've all seen it. So why not the devil?" 

"Aye." She nodded. "I've seen it plenty of times wearing human and immortal skin." She glanced at Jasmine, who wasn't laughing at the exchange either. "Go to the hotel, Din, and after you shower and eat something, call me again." 

"I will," Din said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll text you my updated arrival time once I have it."

"Please do."

"Talk to you soon, Fenella."

Ending the call, she found Kyra and Jasmine watching her with identical concerned expressions.

"Is he okay?" Jasmine asked.

Fenella nodded. "I hope that this was what my premonition warned me about and nothing worse is going to happen, but I would really like for you to do that spread for me." 

"Maybe the universe is just testing his commitment," Kyra murmured.

"Or maybe it's warning me away from disaster," Fenella countered.

Jasmine shook her head. "If the universe didn't want you two together, it wouldn't have arranged for Max to find you while he was rescuing my mother."

"That's true," Fenella conceded. She hadn't thought of it that way. "Although I really don't want to fall into the trap of believing in destiny or some other nonsense like that. It's like putting blinders on and pretending everything is made out of rainbows and unicorns." 

Jasmine and Kyra exchanged another of those irritating knowing glances.

"Stop that," Fenella snapped. "You two have known me for all of five minutes. You don't get to have silent conversations about my love life."

"Sorry," Jasmine said, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just that you keep protesting so loudly that it's comical. You want it to be the real thing as much as Din."

Fenella groaned. "Don't you see? That's the problem. Neither of us should turn this into a chick flick in our heads. This is real life, and we are both adults."

"That's very mature and responsible," Jasmine said, and Fenella wasn't sure if she was mocking her or being serious. "Now, about the tarot reading you asked for."

"Yes, please," Fenella said. "I could use some insight, even if it comes from pieces of cardboard."

"They're not just pieces of cardboard," Jasmine protested. "In the right hands, they are tools to connect to the Goddess, to the Mother of All Life."

Apparently, she'd stepped on the proverbial toe. "I believe you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked for a reading. Sometimes, I just say things in a way that sounds offensive. I'm sorry."

Jasmine's shoulders lost some of their stiffness. "That's okay. It's just that my father used to taunt me about the cards, so I'm a little sensitive about people mocking them." 

Fenella lifted her hands. "I'm not mocking, I swear, but I've never had a magical anything guiding me and I did fine. Well, until I crossed paths with that devil-spawned Doomer, that is." She sighed. "I thought that it was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but if not for him, I wouldn't have found out who I am and this entire world of immortals, aliens, and gods."

She also wouldn't have found Din.

 

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