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“We do not know. They are making their strikes against us by making others do their dirty work.”

“The Drearien. Is there a way to prevent someone from turning?” Broni asked.

“Unfortunately, no. However, once the God who is influencing them releases his hold, they return to normal. If they’re still alive.”

Broni knew Rucker and the other bikers they had killed at the clubhouse wouldn’t be among those few.

“Why were some turned and not others?”

Fate released her daughter, studying her face. “To be influenced, there has to be a trace of evil within their soul.”

“But several of the bikers didn’t turn. Adam didn’t turn, and he’s not a nice man at all.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s become what he has needed to in order to rule his men, like Odin, Hades and Poseidon.”

“You’re comparing Adam to the Gods?” Broni asked, shocked at her mother’s words.

“I am saying he can be cruel, but he is not evil. There is a difference,” Fate clarified her words.

Broni knew another man with those qualities.

“Is Rhys still sleeping?”

“Yes, but the damage to his body has been repaired, and he will wake soon. When he does, your father will bring him downstairs to meet everyone.” Her mother kissed her lightly on the cheek before turning toward the doorway.

“Get changed and come downstairs. I’m sure he will want to see a familiar face.”

“I don’t think he will be happy to see mine at all,” Broni said ruefully.

“I have a feeling I’m going to have trouble with your choice of mate.”

Broni grimaced, knowing her mother was angry over her treatment by Rhys.

“He’s not my mate,” she protested.

Fate paused, turning back to her daughter. She asked her skeptically, “You really aren’t going to deny you’re in love with him to me, are you?”

Broni remained silent.

“I didn’t think so. When are you girls going to realize there is no hiding things from me?” Her mother was still fussing to no one in particular when she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Broni grinned, happy to be home again, yet her smile disappeared when she looked back at the sky, feeling guilty she was safe while those she had left behind remained in danger.

* * *

Rhys sat stunned on the opulent sofa surrounded by a myriad of faces he didn’t recognize. The only familiar face was that of a decidedly pale Broni, who sat quietly by his side. Her hair was not pulled back away from her face, the black curls framing it and giving her a sultry look. She was wearing silky white trousers and a filmy white top, exposing her breasts through the gauzy material.

He shifted his weight when he felt his cock stir to life, angry that he could have the inappropriate hard-on while surrounded by her family. Especially since the clothes he was wearing would make his problem obvious if he stood up. The jeans and t-shirt he had been wearing had been covered in blood, so he now wore soft pants and a thin shirt that felt cool against his skin.

Broni’s family had hugged and cried over her when she had entered the room. One in particular, a curvy young woman whom Rhys assumed to be her sister, clung to her before eventually letting go to be replaced by a woman that could easily be described as unbelievably beautiful. Her gown was transparent, every inch of her skin beneath visible.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up in warning. Looking away from the stunning women, Rhys’s eyes were caught by two males with death in their eyes. The larger of the two was muscled from shoulder to calf, the hard look in his face that of complete authority. That kind of arrogance and power came from the ability to annihilate anything or anyone that dared to give challenge. Rhys was no fool, he instinctively lowered his head in deference. He did not know which woman belonged to him, but no woman would be worth the fight that bruiser would give.

Rhys raised his head when an acknowledging grin was given and he looked at the other man, who was letting him know of his displeasure. This one Rhys assumed was Native American. His sculpted features were cruel and his lips tightened in displeasure let Rhys know that he had been caught staring at the women’s bodies, and this man would not tolerate the disrespect. He was as lean as the other was muscled, however the menacing black eyes left no doubt that this man was just as deadly as the other. He held Rhys’s gaze as he walked to the curvy woman who Rhys had assumed was Broni’s sister, laying a firm hand on her hip before pulling her toward his body. The woman leaned trustingly into the man gripping her firmly, and she even dared to smile trustingly up at him.

The man was leaving no doubt which woman was his. Rhys recognized a pissing contest when he saw one. He was smart enough to acknowledge the winner with a nod of his head that his message had been received.

“Boys be nice. We are here to welcome Broni and Rhys home, not to emasculate him.” Another dark beauty stepped in from the balcony doorway. She was just as beautiful as the other women, but something was different about her, setting her apart from them. Rhys couldn’t place his finger on it, though. She carried herself regally and with confidence, and when her eyes caught and held his, a mischievous grin curled across her red lips.

She sauntered over to him, holding out her hand. “I am Broni’s aunt, Destiny. You must ignore the men. Like dogs, they feel they should mark their territory.”

Rhys smiled back, realizing what he had immediately sensed in Destiny. She was a ballbuster. Men would always cringe with her in their face, but it didn’t faze him because he was not about to try his luck with the Dominatrix. Deena had been mild mannered and sweet and had accepted Rhys’s more dominant personality, however no sane man would ever dominate the woman standing in front of him.

“Behave, Destiny.” Rhys saw the mischievous look Destiny gave Broni before he released her hand to take the other one held out to him.

“I am Fate, Broni’s mother.” Smiling, she waved her hand casually around the room. “The one glaring is Odin.” Rhys’s eyes went to the muscle bound man with his arms crossed against his chest. “Cara, my daughter, and her fiancé, Jericho.” Rhys’s attention was drawn to the Native American. “You’ve already met,” she said, pointing to the one sitting quietly on the couch next to Broni before continuing, “Valentine, Cara, Zerina and Broni’s father.”

The distinguished man released Broni’s hand upon hearing his name. He gave Rhys a welcoming smile, unexpectedly reaching out to hug him, kissing him on both cheeks.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my daughter.”

“I didn’t do a very good job; we both died.” Rhys frowned at getting credit for something he hadn’t actually accomplished.

“You didn’t die; Thor arrived in time.” Destiny gracefully sank down upon the sofa next to him.

“If you were dead at this moment, you would be meeting Hades. Grimm was very angry. That’s twice he’s lost to our family, and he’s such a sore loser.” Destiny grimaced.

“Where am I then?” Rhys questioned.

“You are in my home,” Fate informed him. “You are welcome to stay here until you have acclimated to our world.”

“I would—” Odin was rudely cut off by Fate’s next words, raising Rhys’s curiosity as to what he had been about to say, but her comment drew his attention.

“Broni, of course, will be your guide and help in your adjustment.”

“Adjustment?”

“Cut the sweet act, Fate,” Destiny spoke bluntly. “You are now an immortal. You will have powers, but until they manifest themselves, they will remain unknown. It depends

on Mother and which ones she will gift upon you.”

“Do women hold all the power here?” Rhys’s curiosity grew about the immortals he found himself surrounded by.

“They think they do,” Odin said snidely.

“I know all of this seems strange, but you will adjust rapidly.” Fate’s calm words didn’t help with the strange situation he’d found himself in.

Rhys looked around the room of strangers. He knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as Fate had stated, yet something was niggling at his conscience.

“I don’t understand. You’re saying I didn’t die, but I’m immortal. What’s the difference between the two?”

When Fate hesitated before answering his question, Rhys had a feeling of dread that he wasn’t going to like her answer.

“If you had died on Earth, your soul would have been parted from your body and taken to a different realm from this one. Thor saved you, bringing you to our realm. You are now an immortal; your soul will reside permanently with the body it now resides in.”

“So I am in a different realm than if I had died on Earth?”

Their pitying gazes said it all. Rhys had held on to one slim hope to keep his sanity, which was that he would be reunited with his family on his death. It had been a small hope, but one he’d hung onto as if it were a lifeline. Now they were ripping it apart like tearing off a Band-Aid from an open sore.

Again, she hesitated before answering. “Yes.”

Rhys got to his feet leaving the room, walking quickly, blindly, not knowing where he was going in the unfamiliar castle. He hadn’t made it far when a firm grip took his upper arm, leading him to the huge staircase.

“I’ll take you to back to your room.”

Rhys followed Jericho quietly, his thoughts seething with fury. It would be better away from the roomful of watching strangers, though. He refused to feel guilty at Broni’s stricken features at his abrupt departure, either.

He was led down a long hallway, his arm released as Jericho opened the door. Walking into the room, Rhys uninterestedly examined the massive, masculine space.


Tags: Jamie Begley The Dark Souls Paranormal