Page 12 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure (The Children Of The Gods #98)

LOKAN

L okan was lured to the kitchen by the intoxicating aromas of rosemary and garlic.

He knew that Carol loved to cook. After all, that was how they had initially met, when he was captured by the Guardians and brought to the dungeon.

She had seen a portrait of him drawn by Dalhu and talked Kian into allowing her to prepare and serve his meals.

Things progressed quickly and happily from there.

However, she'd never really done any cooking while they'd lived in Beijing.

They'd embraced the cosmopolitan life, eating out for all of their meals, and she'd seemed happy, but seeing her now, wearing leggings and an oversized t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder, humming as she worked, Lokan realized that his mate assumed personalities with the same ease she changed outfits.

The female who'd always worn designer clothing and high heels had been replaced by a homebody.

Her hair was back to blonde, which was a sign of things getting back to normal, but not really.

Lokan missed the hustle and bustle of Beijing and the intensity of the fashion world.

There had always been some fire he'd needed to put out, people to charm, supply problems to solve.

Now he had nothing to do other than doomscroll social media and look for the Brotherhood's fingerprints all over world affairs.

A bombing in Syria, political upheaval in three African nations, and economic instability in South America that coincidentally benefited certain arms dealers. Follow the chaos, find the Brotherhood. Follow the slaughter, find his father.

The thought of ending Navuh once and for all flickered through his mind as it had done countless times before, but he could never actually complete the thought, let alone make concrete plans.

It wasn't love. He'd never loved his father. How could anyone love a monster?

It was something else. Fear, perhaps, but not of Navuh. Fear of what would happen after. Who would control the Brotherhood?

Some of Lokan's so-called brothers made Navuh look reasonable by comparison. If any of them took over, the chaos would just grow, but what was most likely to happen was a battle for power that would create a vacuum and destabilize half the world.

"Lokan?"

He looked up to find Carol watching him with concern. "What?"

"Can you watch the oven while I get ready? The timer should go off in just a few minutes, and I need you to take the roast out right away or it will get dry."

"No problem. Consider it done."

She tilted her head. "Are you sure? You seem distant. Is something bothering you?"

He forced a smile. "I'm just browsing the news."

"That's a mistake." She took his phone and set it aside. "No doomscrolling allowed at dinner parties."

He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "It didn't start yet. Besides, I wouldn't call it a party."

"What else would you call having two couples over for a home-cooked meal?"

"An interrogation disguised as social niceties?" He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. "My brother and Kian are going to spend the entire evening trying to figure out what to do with us."

She laughed. "I will welcome their input. It's not like we know what to do with ourselves now that we no longer run a fashion business or pretend to. We need to figure out how to live a normal life."

"We're not normal people."

"Perhaps we are not," she agreed, "but we can pretend."

He studied her face, noting the tension around her eyes. She was worried about him.

"I love you," he said.

Her expression softened. "I love you too, and I worry about you. You are restless, and I can't blame you, but I don't know what to do about that."

"I'm adjusting," he admitted.

"To not having someone trying to kill us?"

"To irrelevance." The words came out harsher than he'd intended. "I need to be more than a refugee from my father's insanity."

Carol cupped his face in her hands. "It's been ten days. Give yourself time. You'll figure it out."

"You're feeling it too. The boredom. The sense that we should be doing something more than playing house."

"I like playing house."

The oven timer beeped, breaking the moment.

"Go get ready." He helped her stand. "I'll take out the roast.” The vegan dish she’d prepared earlier was in the warming drawer. Something Thai that smelled delicious, even though it was made with tofu.

She kissed him, quick but thorough. "Cover it in foil so it doesn't dry out."

"Yes, ma'am."

As she disappeared down the hallway, he turned his attention to the oven.

The roast looked perfect, golden brown and crackling.

Carol had always loved to cook, and since returning to the village, she'd thrown herself into domesticity.

He loved every meal, every moment spent with her in this idyllic, safe community, but they both needed more.

The doorbell rang just as he was done covering the roast as per Carol's instructions, and he added a dish towel on top for good measure before answering the door. He found Kalugal and Jacki standing on the front porch.

"Lokan." Kalugal pulled him into a brotherly hug that felt good and awkward at the same time.

They hadn't been close while Kalugal was still in the brotherhood.

In fact, Lokan had been annoyed by how quickly Kalugal had risen in the ranks despite his youth and inexperience.

He hadn't known the truth about their parentage, and that out of all his numerous brothers, Kalugal was the only one he was actually related to.

"Jacki." He kissed his sister-in-law's cheek. "You look lovely as always."

"Thank you." She gifted him with a smile.

"Come in." He stepped aside. "Carol's getting ready. As usual, she has prepared enough to feed an army."

"I heard that she's a great cook."

"She is. If I don't get busy soon, I'll get fat from eating too much." He patted his flat belly.

Carol walked into the living room, transformed from a domestic goddess to the polished beauty he was accustomed to seeing.

Her curly hair was perfectly styled to frame her cherubic face, her makeup was flawless, and the dark pink dress she wore hugged her curves, making her legs look endless in the matching heels.

"You look absolutely stunning." Jacki pulled Carol into her arms.

"So do you," Carol said.

Jacki waved a dismissive hand. "You'll have to impart the fashion knowledge you gained to me because I'm clueless. I always wear the same types of outfits because I can't figure out what else will look good on me."

The doorbell rang again before Carol could respond. This time it was Syssi and Kian, and another round of greetings ensued.

"Let's adjourn to the dining table," Carol said once all the embraces and compliments had been exchanged.

Lokan helped Carol serve, falling into a rhythm as if they had done this a thousand times before. Was it a couple thing? Were they so attuned to each other that they could perform any task in perfect synchrony?

The thought sent a wave of comforting warmth through him. Each of them was capable and formidable in their own right, but together, they were a force of nature. They would figure this out.

Hey, perhaps they could start a new fashion business from scratch?

The clan would provide them with all the fake documentation they needed, and he had plenty of money stashed away from all the side hustles he'd run behind his father's back for nearly a thousand years.

"This is delicious," Syssi said after her first bite of the Mung bean and tofu stir-fry.

"I want the recipe." She chuckled. "Not that Okidu would let me sneak into the kitchen and cook anything, but I can give him the recipe."

"It's easy," Carol said. "The secret is plenty of freshly grated ginger.”

"Write it down for me, will you? Okidu needs exact instructions. He's very literal."

"I will," Carol promised.

"How are you both adjusting?" Jacki asked. "It must be quite a change from Beijing."

Carol and Lokan exchanged glances.

"It's been nice," Carol said. "Peaceful. Wonderfully, blissfully peaceful. For about three days."

"And then?" Kian prompted.

"And then the boredom set in," Lokan said bluntly. "We're used to operating with our tanks filled with adrenaline. This feels like retirement, and I'm not ready for that lifestyle yet."

"You're not retired," Kalugal said. "You're regrouping."

"For what?" Lokan set down his fork. "What's the next move? Because watching our father's organization tear the world apart via news feeds isn't productive."

Kian leaned back in his chair, studying them both. "The Brotherhood's influence is growing, and we need to counter it. I've been toying with an idea of creating a task force that will undermine their influence."

"Their network is too vast, too entrenched," Lokan said. "If you cut off one head, three more appear."

"I'm talking about political influence." Kian took a sip of wine. "Something that can be achieved with a small force of skilled operatives."

Carol perked up. "Go on."

"The Brotherhood has been placing their people or compromising existing officials in governments worldwide. We need to do the same, but instead of using blackmail and bribery, we'd use the one secret weapon the Brotherhood doesn't have. Beautiful, charming, immortal females."

"A honey trap operation." Carol grinned. "I love it."

"What I have in mind is more sophisticated than that." Kian refilled his and Syssi's wine glasses. "I'm talking about long-term influence, not just information gathering. We can guide policy decisions, counter Brotherhood initiatives, and in doing so, save countless lives."

Carol sighed. "I would have loved a job like that. It's right in my wheelhouse. But I'm happily mated, and my seduction days are behind me."