Page 24 of Dark Rebel’s Reckoning (The Children Of The Gods #93)

24

MAX

M ax felt the current crackling between him and Kyra—a tangible thing, like static electricity but warmer, more vital. He'd seen how Kyra's pupils had dilated when he'd entered the room and heard the almost imperceptible catch in her breathing when he sat beside her.

The awareness was mutual, and her reaction sent a surge of satisfaction through him.

Patience , he reminded himself. Let her come to you .

It was against his nature to wait, to play the passive role in any pursuit. But Kyra had been through hell and hadn't had any time to speak of to piece herself together yet. The last thing she needed was a guy, hyped up on centuries of confidence, coming after her.

As everyone moved to the living room, Max followed Kyra to the grouping of plush couches and armchairs, admiring the straight line of her spine and the confident set of her shoulders that were evident despite the baggy clothes she was wearing.

The trauma she'd endured hadn't broken her spirit—a fact he found impressive but also moving.

"What do we do about the girls?" Kyra asked in a hushed voice as they settled on a couch. She glanced toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "It's becoming difficult to hide what's going on from them. Arezoo is very perceptive. She doesn't miss much."

Syssi smiled. "You can speak normally. The penthouse has excellent soundproofing, and the doors to their bedrooms are closed. They can't hear us."

"Because they're human," Kyra clarified, still keeping her voice low.

"Even immortals can't hear through these closed doors unless someone is really loud." Syssi shot Kian a playful glance, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

Max stifled a chuckle at Syssi's unexpected innuendo. It was strangely endearing that she still blushed like a teenager.

He glanced at Kyra, wondering if she blushed as well—wondering what it might take to make that happen.

Kian shifted in his armchair, looking uncomfortable, probably because of the amused looks he was getting. "We should wait to tell the girls about who we are until we have some answers. If we confirm that they are Dormants as we suspect, then we can tell them because they will be coming with us to the village."

"What if something slips out?" Kyra asked.

"Don't worry about it," Kian said. "We can thrall them to forget anything they shouldn't know yet, but it's much easier to thrall the memory of a little slip-up than the whole tale of gods and immortals. I always maintain that the less thralling, the better, especially for women as young as they are with still malleable minds."

Kyra didn't seem to agree, but she didn't voice her objections.

Fenella, on the other hand, seemed eager to do so. "What about us?" she asked, gesturing between herself and Kyra.

"You will join our community in the village." He turned to Fenella. "If you prefer to live in Scotland, you can choose to join the immortal community there instead. They will welcome you with open arms."

"Max mentioned I'd be in high demand." Fenella cast him a sidelong glance.

"Yes, you will," Kian confirmed. "We are always looking for Dormants and immortals to enrich our gene pool."

Fenella winced, sinking back into her chair. "I didn't picture my future living in a small village again," she admitted. "I enjoyed traveling the world, seeing new places, meeting new people." A shadow crossed her face. "But it's not safe out there, is it? Not even for an immortal with all the advantages that come with it."

Fenella had been on her own for five decades, surviving by her wits. No wonder she had grown rough around the edges. If Din decided to pursue her again, he would find a much harder woman than the barmaid he'd fallen in love with. Then again, she'd always been feisty and outspoken, but now she had decades of experience to back up her bravado.

"What did you do for money?" he asked.

A mischievous smile teased the corners of her mouth. "Poker."

Jasmine laughed. "What a wonderful coincidence. I'm an excellent poker player, and I was one even before I turned immortal. I never played for money, though. My father warned me that it would only bring me trouble, and in this one instance, I actually listened."

Fenella's smile wilted. "Your father is a smart man. Not that I had a choice. How else was I going to survive?"

"How did you do that?" Syssi asked. "You turned immortal as an adult, so you couldn't thrall people to get into their minds."

"I didn't have to," Fenella said. "People don't realize how much they give away with their scents. Fear, excitement, disappointment—it all smells different. Between that and watching for the tiniest changes in their body language, I always knew what kind of hand my opponents had."

"You can smell those emotions because you are immortal," Kian said. "Humans can't smell that."

"Oh." She scrunched her nose. "I thought that I was just good at sniffing those out. I didn't know it came with immortality."

"How did you end up in that prison?" Max asked.

The question had been bothering him since they'd found her.

Fenella's expression shuttered, her eyes darkening. "That's why I said that Jasmine's father is a smart man. It was the poker that got me in trouble. I was unfortunate enough to meet the so-called doctor in a poker game. And even more unfortunate to lose to him, which I now know was because he could thrall me."

"He couldn't," Max corrected her misconception. "Immortals can thrall humans but not other immortals. But he could smell you."

"I see." Her voice grew flat, emotionless. "He beat me at my own game. He seemed to know exactly what cards I held each time." She paused, swallowing visibly. "When I couldn't pay, he demanded compensation of a certain kind." She let the statement hang in the air, allowing them to draw their own conclusions. "As I said, it's not safe for women out there. Not even immortals."

A heavy silence settled over the group. Max felt a cold fury building in his chest, his fangs elongating in response to the implied brutality Fenella had endured.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. It seemed wholly inadequate, but what else could he offer?

Fenella gave a small smile. "I survived. I'm here. That's all that matters."

"When will Bridget arrive?" Syssi asked, addressing the question to Kian but glancing at Kyra.

"Tomorrow. I spoke to her and told her that everyone looked exhausted and that we should postpone the health check."

"What about the sedative?" Jasmine asked. "It will be completely gone from their bodies."

"It's already gone," Kyra said. "I'm back to myself. Will the doctor check the girls to determine if they are Dormants?"

"We don't have tests for that," Kian said. "We will have to get the answers out of that Doomer. He must have been working on something. It wasn't a coincidence that the six of you were under his so-called care."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.

"What if he just got lucky?" Fenella muttered. "He found me by chance."

Max considered this. "I think he knew what he was looking for."

"He was looking for me," Kyra said quietly. "He told me that he'd been searching for a long time. He knew what I turned into and how."

Kian let out a breath. "If the Brotherhood has found a way to identify Dormants, they will hunt for them to add to their breeders so they can grow their army of immortals even faster."

The implications sent a chill down Max's spine.

The Doomers always had an advantage over the clan because they didn't allow their breeders to transition. They only activated the boys so they could join Navuh's army but left the girls dormant so they could produce the maximum number of children. They didn't want them turning immortal and their fertility plummeting as a result.

He glanced at Kyra, expecting to see concern on her face. Instead, he found determined calculation—the look of a strategic mind assessing a threat and formulating countermeasures.

It was the expression of a commander, not a victim.

Fates, she was magnificent.

"When are we going to interrogate him?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," Kian said. "I know that you want to be there, but you need to rest. One night of recovery won't change much in the grand scheme of things."

"I've never been a patient woman," Kyra said. "My team often chided me for my impulsiveness." She clutched her pendant. "I always trusted my instincts."

"Oh, do tell." Fenella leaned back against the soft couch cushions. "Your life must have been so exciting."

"Not really," Kyra said. "I have a few good stories, though."

When she launched into the story of her latest prisoner rescue, Max's admiration for her grew with every twist of her tale.

When Kyra caught him looking, those golden-flecked eyes meeting his directly, Max didn't bother to hide his admiration.

The small smile she offered in return sent a jolt of warmth through him.