Page 1 of Dark Rebel’s Reckoning (The Children Of The Gods #93)

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MAX

T he rotors thudded above in a steady rhythm and the fuselage vibrated with every push of the wind, creating a concerto of sounds that represented safety.

At least in Max's ears.

Still, even though the mission objectives had been achieved and all team members had made it out alive, the sense of urgency refused to abate. Most of the enemy soldiers had been eliminated, humans and Doomers alike, and the compound was going up in smoke behind them. However, he was well aware that they wouldn't be out of danger until they crossed the border into Turkey, and that was despite Yamanu shrouding both helicopters.

Mental manipulation and illusions didn't fool equipment.

Not that Turkey was friendly territory. It used to be a progressive country, but it had been slipping into the abyss of darkness for over a decade. Corruption was rampant, and with the right connections and enough money, anything could be arranged, and the chances of betrayal were high.

Max couldn't allow himself to relax until they were all on the jet and out of Turkish airspace.

The country had a formidable air force, and as a NATO member, it had all the latest jets, radar equipment, and armaments, and they were all in working condition. Yamanu's shrouding wouldn't help them against all that.

The infiltration had been even uglier than Max had feared, but they'd come out on top despite Drova and Yamanu getting hit.

Yamanu was already fully healed, his body repairing the damage in minutes, but Drova would take more time. The Kra-ell didn't heal as fast as immortals.

Although looking at the six women they'd rescued, the four humans were in better shape than the two immortals.

The damn so-called doctor, who was in a body bag in the cargo area, must have concocted a sedative that wreaked havoc on immortals. Kyra and Fenella were experiencing occasional moments of clarity, but they didn't last long.

Max was afraid even to hypothesize how the Doomer had managed that with no medical training.

Hopefully, no lasting damage had been done to them, and Bridget would be able to fix whatever was wrong with the two females.

As turbulence jostled the helicopter, Max braced his forearm against the cabin wall and tightened his hold on Fenella. Across from him, Ell-rom held on to the unconscious Kyra, and sitting next to him, Jasmine held on to her mother's limp hand.

Max wished he could trade places with either of them.

His instincts demanded that Kyra belonged with him, and he wanted her in his arms, but he couldn't say that without sounding like a lunatic.

There was something special about her.

Perhaps he liked the warrior type? The lionesses?

In the past, he'd been attracted to damsels in distress, but Kyra was now both. The lioness had been captured and had become a damsel for him to save.

He glanced down at the woman in his arms and wondered what kind of person Fenella had become since the last time he'd seen her. For all he knew, she was a rebel as well and as ferocious as Kyra.

Otherwise, she probably wouldn't have been locked up in the same place.

She must have joined the Kurdish rebellion.

Since Kyra had been so insistent on getting her free, she had to know Fenella. Then again, she could have met her in the prison, and the two could have become friends.

Did Kyra know the other four women they had rescued?

Those women had also been drugged and abused, but they weren't in as bad a shape as Kyra and Fenella—the two immortals who should have fared better. The humans were understandably shell-shocked, and even though Jasmine had tried to convey reassurances and had given them water and energy bars, none of them had said a word so far. At least they were well enough to sit on their own, strapped for safety on the narrow bench of the military aircraft. The two immortal females, on the other hand, had to be carried and held and weren't showing signs of getting better.

What had been done to Kyra and Fenella to bring them to such a state?

Was it chemical or mental?

And how had Fenella become immortal and ended up in the same prison as Kyra?

She hadn't been immortal when Max met her half a century ago—he was sure of that—so the only logical explanation was that she'd been a Dormant, and he'd unknowingly induced her transition.

Fenella had been on the pill, so they hadn't bothered with condoms, and her transition must have been uneventful, so she hadn't been hospitalized.

Max had only been with her twice before realizing that Din was in love with her, and after his best friend confronted him, hurling accusations, Max hadn't kept in touch with Fenella.

He could only speculate, but he imagined that she'd freaked out after realizing she was changed, not understanding how and what had happened to her.

That was probably what had prompted Fenella to quit her job at the pub and go backpacking on a self-discovery trip to the East. She must have been either searching for answers or afraid of being found out, so she'd continued moving from place to place.

Remembering how he'd found her, chained up and delirious, Max felt a swirl of emotions seizing his gut—shock, guilt, and relief.

It was surreal.

Now she was in his arms, and he owed her answers. Maybe even more than that.

He should call Din and let him know that he'd found her.

What was he going to tell him, though? How would he even start that conversation? The guy had been his closest friend until Fenella had come between them, and now he needed to tell him that he'd found his girl half a world away from the Scottish pub where the three of them had first met.

Knowing Din, he would say that he was no longer interested and that Max could keep Fenella for himself. That was what he'd said over fifty years ago when Max had offered to stay away from her.

With a sigh, Max leaned his head against the grimy cabin wall.

From across the cabin, Jasmine gave him a searching look and then returned her gaze to her mother.

Kyra's hair was stuck to her clammy face, and her skin was pale. At first, he'd thought it was because of the cold, but she was wearing his thick sweater and was wrapped in blankets on top of that. Besides, as an immortal, she shouldn't be as sensitive to temperature fluctuations.

Jasmine's worried expression echoed his concerns, but she said nothing—just rested her hand on her mother's shoulder.

As Kyra stirred in Ell-rom's arms, Max tensed. He hated the thought of her opening her golden eyes only to gaze at another male's face, but there wasn't much he could do about it. After all, he couldn't just put Fenella on the floor and demand Kyra be handed over to him.

"Twelve?" Kyra murmured.

"We've got her," Jasmine said. "Max is holding her. If you turn your head that way, you'll be able to see her."

Kyra's heavy-lidded eyes darted toward Max, hovering over his face for a split second, but there was no recognition in them.

When she shifted her gaze to Fenella, a soft sigh escaped Kyra's lips. "Safe," she murmured, and then her eyes drifted closed again.

What an amazing woman she was, worrying for another when she herself was in such a bad state.

Feeling that she was the focus of everyone's attention, Fenella blinked her eyes open. They were dull from sedation, but recognition bloomed in them, and she parted her lips, trying to speak.

A wave of pity coursed through Max.

Fenella, who once had so much youthful energy, zest and spunk, had been reduced to this fragile shell, and that was despite being immortal.

"Whe…?" Her voice was a mere croak when it finally came out. "Max?" Her throat seemed to close around his name.

"Yes, it's me, in the flesh, and you are not dead, and you're not dreaming, either. You and I are alike. We don't age."

He expected her to ask how, but instead, she asked, "Where?"

"We're in a helicopter," Max said, leaning in so she could hear him above the roar of the rotors. "You are free."

Fenella's eyes fluttered. "Are you real?"

Her mind must still be foggy, and she either hadn't heard what he'd said or hadn't understood.

"As real as you are, and I'm taking you to safety. No one is going to hurt you ever again."

He would make sure of that.

As a resident of the village, she would be protected.

Fenella exhaled shakily, and the tension in her face melted into exhaustion. Her eyelids drooped, and she slumped against his chest again.

"How does she know you?" Jasmine asked.

He chuckled. "Remember the woman I told you about? The one who you reminded me of? This is her. Her name is Fenella, and evidently she was a Dormant and I induced her transition."

As another wave of turbulence jolted them, the pilot came on the com, "We're about to cross the border into Turkey."

Max breathed out. "Copy that. Any sign we've been spotted?"

"So far, it's quiet."

He closed his eyes, letting the hum of the rotors wash over him.

In the darkness behind his lids, he could almost see the mission in fragments—the infiltration at dawn, Jade's savage strength, plowing through the corridors with her Kra-ell warriors who had been unstoppable in their bloodlust and fury. Yamanu and Drova getting shot. The metal doors behind which terrified detainees had cowered, not trusting that their salvation had arrived.

Max had barely had time to thrall the released male prisoners to forget details about their rescue and instruct them to walk toward the town. Hopefully, they would find people willing to help them and direct them toward the Kurdish rebels so they wouldn't get recaptured.

Across from him, Kyra suddenly twitched, and her eyes shot open in panic. "My pendant?" she rasped, voice barely audible. "Did you get it?"

Max raised an eyebrow. "What is she talking about?"

"Syssi saw it in her vision," Jasmine said. "An amber pendant." She leaned over her mother. "I'm sorry, but you didn't have any jewelry on you, and there was nothing in the room you were held in."

A tear slid down Kyra's cheek. "He took it," she murmured.

"Who?" Jasmine asked but got no answer.

A spasm of despair crossed Kyra's face, and as she slumped back again, another tear rolled down her cheek.

One of the guards must have taken the pendant, and there wasn't much Max could do about it other than to get her a new one, but he was pretty sure it hadn't been just a piece of jewelry. It must have meant something to Kyra for her to cry over it.

Jasmine caught his eye and gave him a brief nod, but he wasn't sure what she was trying to communicate. He and Jasmine had gotten closer during this mission, and he'd changed his mind about her.

She was a surprisingly resilient young woman, and he admired how unshaken she appeared despite the carnage she'd just witnessed. Then again, she might be putting on a brave face for the sake of her mother and the other young women they had rescued. She was the only female team member on this helicopter, and the others looked to her for cues about what awaited them at their destination.

The truth was that Max had no idea.

He just knew they couldn't leave them behind to suffer even more abuse, and he wasn't sure they could leave them in Turkey either. Not until they could figure out why they had been taken and what had been done to them.

Max had a feeling that it had to do with Kyra and Fenella being immortal. Maybe the scumbag doctor thought he could turn these young women into immortals as well, and the big question was why he would think that.

The clan had yet to figure out how to identify Dormants, and there was no way the Doomers could know who could be induced to become immortal and who could not.

Well, they would know soon enough if the Doomer had discovered something the clan had failed to do despite centuries of effort. Once they revived him, Max would be the first in line to incentivize the minion of darkness to tell them everything he knew.