Page 43 of Dark Rebel’s Reckoning (The Children Of The Gods #93)

43

MAX

M ax stretched his legs on one of the cushioned loungers and gazed at the city through the glass railing. From this height, Los Angeles was sprawled out before them, and the penthouse terrace, with its lush potted plants and elegant furniture, felt like an island floating above the bustling city.

"What else did you learn from the Doomer?" Ell-rom asked.

"The bastard was planning his own little breeding program, using Kyra and Fenella as the starting point, then going after every female in Kyra's family he could get his hands on. The boys are also possible targets as they can be turned immortal and trained to become soldiers."

"Did he go after Fenella's family as well?" Ell-rom asked.

Max shook his head. "We didn't ask, but we should." He frowned, trying to recall details from his history with her. "As far as I remember, Fenella had one younger brother, but I don't know whether her mother had sisters who could have daughters. We didn't spend enough time together for me to learn about her extended family." He ran a hand through his hair, considering the implications. "Still, Scotland isn't as easy to infiltrate and grab people from as Iran is, although these days, things are crazy all over Europe."

"What about your clan there?" Ell-rom asked, his expression turning concerned. "Are they safe?"

"For now they're okay." Max shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun with his hand. "That's where the Clan Mother started the clan, and it's been our stronghold ever since. We've weathered plenty of storms in that castle, which we built with our own hands."

"I would like to visit there one day," Ell-rom said. "Perhaps when things calm down here, Annani could take me and Jasmine to visit Sari."

"Good idea. If things continue on the same trajectory over there..." Max trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. Instability was spreading like wildfire across the globe. It was a vicious cycle that he'd witnessed too often to count, but the difference nowadays was how interconnected the world was. When the dominos fell, everything would collapse in rapid succession.

"They should leave," Ell-rom concluded quietly. "This country is safe."

"For now," Max said. "But convincing a bunch of obstinate Scottish immortals to relocate is a challenge that even Kian can't overcome. His sister stubbornly clings to that old castle, and I don't blame her. It's her home, and even though I chose to move away, I still love it. How are they supposed to just abandon it and move on?"

Ell-rom chuckled. "I'm not the one to ask. I'm a prince without a country, and maybe because of that my advice is to go where you are treated best and where your family is safe."

The sliding glass door opened behind them, and Max turned to see Kyra stepping onto the terrace. The sight of her still caused a little hitch in his breathing—something he hadn't experienced with anyone else.

There was just something about her that tugged at all his heart strings and lit up all of his soul. She checked all his boxes, including the ones he hadn't known he had.

Max had never imagined he would find a warrior female so attractive.

Ell-rom rose to his feet. "Is the talk over?" he asked.

"For now," Kyra said, offering a tired smile. "We've got all the names and addresses, and Jasmine has forwarded them to Kian. She is ordering food delivery and showing the girls the options. She asks what you would like to order."

"I'll go inside and look at the menus," Ell-rom said, already heading for the door.

Max chuckled. "He probably can't even read the menus," he said as the prince disappeared inside. "I don't know how far along he is in his English studies."

"So, that's why he always wears the earpieces." Kyra settled onto the lounger Ell-rom had vacated. "I thought it was to converse with the girls."

"That too." Max turned on his side. "How did it go?"

She sighed, tilting her face toward the sun. "Better than I expected. I now know my sisters' names and how many kids each one has." A small smile played at the corners of her lips. "I have three more nieces and six more nephews, ages eight to fifteen."

"That's a lot of family to discover in one day."

Kyra nodded, her fingers hovering over her pendant. "I asked the girls to tell me about my sisters and the kind of relationships they have with their husbands. Three might want to join their kids here, but the fourth is happily married to a nice guy." Her brow furrowed with concern. "Then again, they have five kids together, and those kids need to be protected." She looked at him with rare uncertainty in her golden eyes. "I don't know what to do, Max. How can I take the children away from my sister? How can I leave my sister to her mortal life?"

The conflict in her voice plucked at his heart, but he had no answers for her.

"I don't know," he said frankly.

"And what if those who choose to leave everything behind and accompany their children to safety are too old to transition? What then?"

Max pushed himself up from his lounger, moved to sit beside her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Everything will work out," he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "The Fates will have your back." A thought occurred to him, and he couldn't help but smile. "Who knows? Maybe the nice husband is a Dormant?"

She gave him an incredulous look, one eyebrow arched skeptically. "What are the chances of that?"

Max chuckled. "Not great, but statistics are meaningless when the Fates are involved." He'd seen too many improbable coincidences to dismiss the thought as impossible. "Just look at me finding Fenella after all these years. What were the odds of that?"

"Fair point," Kyra conceded, though she still looked dubious.

She was quiet for a moment. "The girls think they're still virgins." Her voice had dropped to a whisper, as if concerned about being overheard despite the distance from the glass doors. "The Doomer touched them inappropriately, but he didn't do more than that, probably because he didn't want them to transition."

Max frowned, trying to reconcile that with what they'd learned during the interrogation. "Didn't he say that he wanted to create his own breeding program?"

"If he wanted to be the father, he could have done that with artificial insemination," Kyra pointed out. "As long as he didn't bite them, they wouldn't transition, and then their chances of getting pregnant would be higher. The guy is proof that insanity does not equal stupidity. They can coexist in one sick brain."

"How did he know that, though?" Max began, then shook his head. "No, that was a stupid question. The Doomers know how the male Dormants are activated, and that requires only biting." He thought through the implications. "The Doomer might have thought that the same was true for female Dormants. He might not have figured out that sex was part of it as well."

Kyra nodded. "That actually makes sense. If I hadn't been told, I would have assumed the same."

The knowledge that the girls had been spared the worst possible violation was a small mercy and a relief. Still, what they had endured was horrific enough. Max's jaw tightened at the thought of the Doomer's hands on those young women. The bastard was lucky he was locked up and they needed to keep him alive for further interrogation, or Max would have torn him apart with his fangs and claws.

He was still disappointed that Kian had brought Toven to get the Doomer to talk and deprived him of the pleasure of beating him up.

"Jasmine has collected everyone's sizes and sent them to Ell-rom's sister, who knows a personal shopper." Kyra changed the subject. "The shopper is going to deliver everything later tonight, so I'll have proper clothes to wear on the mission." She looked at the leggings and hoodie she had on. "I can't go dressed like this, although given that I can just throw a burka over whatever I'm wearing, this could have worked."

"What do you usually wear on missions?"

"Same as you. Cargo pants with lots of pockets for all my weapons, a tactical vest over a long-sleeved shirt. Boots. But I wore traditional clothing when I infiltrated the compound. I didn't even have any weapons on me because they checked everyone going in." She smiled. "I took the place of a domestic servant who looked a little like me. No one ever pays attention to the cleaning ladies."

"How did you get caught?"

Her shoulders tensed. "He recognized me. I don't know how, given that most of my face was hidden behind a scarf. Maybe he smelled me."

"It's possible." Max fought with his fangs, commanding them to stay dormant and not to elongate. "I should have thought about taking you shopping for clothes. I don't know how it didn't occur to me that you can't go on a mission in snow boots or slippers."

"It's fine." Kyra leaned over to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

It was just a brief peck, barely more than a momentary touch, but the fact that she'd initiated it sent a wave of warmth through Max's chest. This simple, casual gesture meant more to him than a passionate embrace could have because it spoke of comfort, of ease, of the beginning of something special between them.

Unable to resist, he slowly lifted her onto his lap, giving her plenty of time to object if she wanted to. But she came willingly, settling against him with a quiet sigh that sounded like contentment.

Then she leaned into him and kissed him properly, her lips soft but insistent against his. Max let her set the pace, marveling at how something so simple could feel so profound.

When they parted, her eyes were bright with emotion. "You have incredible lips," she said. "Can I admit something nasty?"

He grinned. "The nastier the better. I like nasty."

"Every time I look at Fenella I think of her touching you, kissing you, and I get jealous."

"I have no problem with that."

Kyra snorted. "I didn't think you would. She's been so helpful with the girls. She's much softer on the inside than she is on the outside, and she has been through a lot." She shuddered. "I kept coming back to the compound because of her. I saw what he did to her through the little window at the top of the door, and I figured out that she was like me because her bruises would disappear by the next day. I hoped she had the answers I was looking for, but I also needed to save her. I remembered what it was like to be chained and helpless. Only instead of saving her, I ended up in the same situation. If not for you, I would still be there and so would she."

"It wasn't just me." He rubbed soothing circles on her back. "It was a team effort, and I'm not saying that out of some fake modesty."

"I know. But you were the one who got me out. Thank you."

He leaned away, looking at her face. "I hope those sweet kisses weren't a thank you."

She laughed. "No. They weren't. They started as an experiment and then turned to something more."

"I like the sound of that." He returned to rubbing her back. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" he asked, not knowing how to make romantic small talk.

"Not nervous the way you might think," she said. "I've led missions before." Her expression sobered. "I'm more worried about what happens after we find them. What if my sisters don't believe me? What if they reject me? What if they choose to stay behind?"

"Then we'll deal with it," he said, holding her gaze. "Whatever happens, Kyra, you're not alone in this. You have Jasmine. You have the girls. You have the clan." He hesitated, then added, "And you have me."