Chapter Two

Chapter Two

M

y body jolted in the seat as the turbulence played havoc with the small plane. Beside me, Tres bumped about. His thick fingers gripped the harness belting him into his seat. His jaw clenched and his eyes squinted as though he were traveling through a sandstorm.

I rolled my eyes. As much as the man flew, I knew he’d encountered a little bit of turbulence on a number of occasions. Like choppy waves on an ocean voyage, the choppy air was par for the course of plane travel.

Secretly, I was getting a serious kick out of having this mountain of a man white-knuckling his seat cushion. He was a powerhouse in the corporate world and a no-nonsense businessman when it came to real estate and land development.

We’d battled over the years, with him coming out the victor more times than I’d like to count. Now I had all the power in my grip. My fingers flexed on the controls. I was half-tempted to do a barrel roll. But I wasn’t that cruel. Not really.

I reached over and rubbed Tres's knee. He jerked out of my reach.

“Both hands on the wheel, please,” he demanded.

“Seriously? I reach out to you and you’re telling me to keep my hands to myself?”

“You can take advantage of me when you get us on the ground.”

I let out a high-pitched giggle and immediately dipped my chin to swallow the offensive sound. I was not a giggler. I laughed. I smirked. I was even known to guffaw in days gone by. I did not giggle like some society miss.

That wasn’t entirely true. Zane knew all the things to say to set me shaking with tinkling laughter. I took a deep breath and got hold of myself. I needed to get my ex out of my mind. Especially since I had decided to make room in there for Tres.

I glanced over at Tres. Of course, at that moment we hit another rough pocket of air. I took the aircraft up, aiming to find a patch of smooth air to complete our journey. It would probably be best if I spent my mental energy focusing on getting the two of us to our destination intact.

Just last year, I wouldn’t have thought that an air crash could’ve killed me. I had thought that Immortals were impervious to death. I’d been proven wrong, not once, but three times.

I’d learned what we all suspected: that the allergy shared between the twelve of us when we remained in one another’s presence for too long could, in fact, kill us. Vau and Epsilon, two older Immortals who had been deeply in love, had met their end that way hundreds of years ago, though I’d only remembered it earlier this year.

Just a week ago, I’d learned that certain magical objects could also end our lives. Yod, an Immortal who liked to interfere in the religious affairs of humans and wreak havoc for his own warped sense of righteousness, had taken a spear to the heart and perished. I had been the one to throw the spear that ended his life. Though he’d asked for it by holding a knife to my bestie’s throat, I took no pleasure in his death.

I hadn’t known the Spear of Destiny would kill him. I’d only intended to maim him so that he would release Loren. But when the spear struck his heart, it stopped his life. Now the spear was out in the world with a crazed wizard.

I couldn’t focus on Merlin. I had to leave that to his brother, Arthur, and the rest of the Knights of Camelot. I could only handle one apocalyptic danger at a time.

With three of the twelve of us Immortals gone, I’d learned that two more were fated to perish before our past and our purpose here on earth would be revealed to us.

The elderly witch Igraine had seen a vision when I was back at Camelot. The Immortals would be returning to the garden from whence we’d come. I’d seen the garden in a vision, or perhaps it was a memory. There had been lush flowers and deep green pastures. I’d seen all twelve of us together, getting along. Mostly. But Igraine said that only seven of the twelve of us would make it.

Three Immortals were dead, leaving nine walking the earth. There were two Immortals in this plane. I had no intention of being one of the two to go. I had no intention of allowing any more of my kind to meet their end if I could help it. And I had a plan.

My attention was on figuring out what this garden was and where it might be. Perhaps if we could get to it soon, if we could somehow manage to enter it alive and kicking, that would mean that no one else would have to lose their life before we were due back. To figure out the mystery of the garden, I needed to get to the biggest and oldest library of creation myths and biblical works and religious references on the planet. That place was my very own bookshelf on my secret island.

“Is that it?” Tres asked, pointing out the window.

“Yup, that’s me.”

It was just a short flight from Florida, where we’d taken off, to the Caribbean, where we were about to land. Up ahead the cloud cover broke and my island came into view. There were a number of nondescript islands in the crystal-blue waters of the Caribbean Sea. But my own private island had one distinction. It spelled my name.

“And you used to call me a branding whore,” said Tres.

Tresor Mohandis had his name on everything. His private plane. His massive yacht. All of his buildings and holdings. Other than signing my name to documents and artifacts throughout history, this was the only other item in the world that bore my name.

Each of the twelve Immortals had been branded with a symbol on their back. My symbol looked like the Hebrew or Aramaic number nine. My island was shaped like a U. A sandy beach formed the bottom half of the symbol. A small mountain range extended from the top, slicing diagonally into a forest. I’d named the little slice of paradise Noohra, which was a Galilean word that meant “light.”

I pulled back on the throttle and the plane leveled on the horizon. As I pulled on the yoke, we descended and came to a smooth landing in the water.

I’d found this place in the early 1500s. I’d been sailing from the New World and headed back to Spain when pirates attacked the ship I was on. The marauders took one look at my brown skin and decided to enslave me. Unfortunately for them, I was superhuman. I managed to get away by going overboard and drifted at sea for a few days. I wound up here on my little island of light.

This was my Fortress of Solitude. The place where I kept all of my treasures and secrets. I’d never brought anyone here. Though somehow, Zane knew about this place. Maybe I’d brought him in the past? I couldn’t remember.

Before our five-hundred-year dating stint, we’d been together seven other times. My memories of those times had been nonexistent two months ago. But now, little by little, things were coming back to me.

I gave myself another shake. Now was not the time to be thinking about Zane and what we once shared. I was here with Tres. I had chosen Tres.

I turned to Tres as we debarked from the plane. He took the place in. As his dark gaze swept across my private beach, I realized I was anxious to know what he thought of my home.

He said nothing as we waded through the water to get to dry land. Intelligent eyes took in the surroundings. The beach was pristine with white sands. The forest kept its distance and hid the interior with a curtain of green.

“This place is completely untouched,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“How far are we from the mainland?”

“A couple hundred miles or so?” I looked at him again, noting that intelligence had turned to calculation. I shoved his chest. “If you even think of bringing one of your bulldozers anywhere near—”

“Hey, hey.” Tres caught my hand in his grip and smiled. “Occupational hazard. You look at a pile of dirt and want to dig it up. I look at a pile of dirt and want to build a fort. It’s our nature.”

His tone was soothing, but he’d already awakened the beast in me. He swooped in with his other hand and wrapped it around my waist, bringing me flush with his body. The heat of him made me melt. Just a bit.

We had been at odds for hundreds of years, and it kept coming back to this. How in the world were we supposed to make a relationship work when our very ideals stood apart?

“I know that your bringing me here is a big deal, and I honor that,” Tres said. “I would never violate that trust.”

He brought his body closer to mine. That same heat flared. The water that had seeped into my clothing evaporated.

“It was a slip of the tongue,” he said, his voice in a low register. “My tongue does that from time to time. It’s not always a bad thing.”

His head was over mine. His lips angled in a way that all I needed to do was tilt my head and taste. I inhaled deeply, and the sweet, woody smell of frankincense lapped against the tip of my tongue. The smell rolled off of Tres like waves in the ocean. The moisture in my mouth increased and I swallowed, taking down more of the spicy scent that made me warm from the inside out.

The incense was traditionally used in religious and burial ceremonies. It was most noted for being one of the gifts of the Three Wise Men at the birth of Christ. But it was also used as a burnt offering to a god.

I had nearly made up my mind to tilt my chin up and take in his offering when he stepped back.

“Now,” he said. “Where’s this house of yours?”

My voice was too shaky to use so I raised my arm and pointed.

Tres's gaze followed my trajectory. “Through the dense swamp and into the forest? Of course.”

I’d forgotten. Tresor Mohandis wasn’t one for the outdoors. Mr. Broody Billionaire liked the creature comforts of the modern era. There were tons of creatures here, and he’d have to contend with them all before we got to the comfort of my home.

“I don’t suppose you stashed a car on this island?” he asked. “Or a golf cart? Maybe a mule?”

“Nope, we’re hoofing it.” I found my footing and headed through the sand.

Behind me, I heard Tres sigh, but he caught up.

“I don’t understand your distaste for roughing it,” I said as we trudged into the foliage. “We’ve been alive since before indoor plumbing.”

“Why do you think I’m so obsessed with building and renovations? I believe in luxury.”

“Not interested in being one with nature?”

“Why?” His nose crinkled in disgust. It was kind of adorable.

“To reconnect.”

“Without Wi-Fi?” His dark brows dipped in distaste.

“I love being outside,” I said. “Sleeping under the stars. Hearing the sounds of nature.”

“I’ve also known you to like a good spa.”

“True,” I acknowledged. “I guess I like both. The best of both worlds.”

I came to a dead halt. I inhaled, my eyes widening as I took in my surroundings. My attention was diverted by a flash of movement in the green.

“What?” Tres asked, stopping beside me, his large body alert. “What is it?”

“Dinner.”

“Really?” groaned Tres. “We’re eating rodents?”

I took off after the white blur. The opossum couldn’t outrun me, but it was smaller and could get through the brush quicker than I could.

I leaped up into the air, over thicket and brush, and landed on the opposite side of the marsupial. It zigged around and headed back the other way.

I saw it surface on the other side. I jumped up vertically, catching a tree branch. Swinging like Tarzan, I landed right in front of our meal and pulled my blade from my hip. Before I could extend my weapon, a dagger struck the animal dead between its eyes. I looked up and watched Tres swagger toward his kill.

“I said I liked luxury, but I haven’t forgotten my roots.” He picked up the slain animal with a frown, then faced me, resignation on his face. “You’re the only woman I’d go native for.”