Page 3 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure (The Children Of The Gods #98)

KIAN

Present Day

T he aroma of Chinese takeout filled Kian's penthouse at the keep, the familiar scents of sesame oil and soy sauce wafting through the modern space.

He checked his watch, then glanced at Esag, who sat on the leather couch embodying that peculiar immortal paradox of an impossible age and a permanently youthful face.

At two thousand and one years old, Kian had long held the distinction of being one of the clan's oldest, but that title had become almost meaningless lately.

First Wonder had arrived, older than even his mother, though the millennia spent in stasis made that a technicality at best. Then Toven had appeared, crushing all records with his seven thousand years of actual lived experience.

The Kra-ell refugees had added their own complexity to the age hierarchy—some had spent seven thousand years in stasis pods, making them more like Wonder than Toven in terms of real-life experience.

The same held true for Ell-rom and Morelle.

And now there were Esag, Davuh, and Roven—each having marked over five thousand years of living the day-to-day, the entirety of it spent awake and aware, believing themselves the last of their kind.

The weight of those millennia showed not in Esag's unmarred face, but in the depth and wonder of his gaze, as if he was still amazed to find himself among his own people once more.

"They should be here soon," Kian said, reaching for another spring roll. "Andrew is punctual to a fault, but Tim is never on time. It's almost like a point of pride with him."

Esag speared a piece of beef with his fork and smiled. "I'm not in a rush. This is excellent. I'm glad that Tim insisted on takeout from the Golden Dragon."

Across the table, Anandur snorted. "Tim always makes insane demands in addition to the exorbitant prices he charges. He could try the patience of a saint."

"He's the best forensic artist in the country," Kian said. "Probably the world. Which is why we put up with him."

"And also why we are willing to pay him ridiculous amounts of money," Anandur added. "Don't forget that part."

Kian leaned back in his chair, studying Esag.

The ancient immortal had been in the village for just over two weeks now, but this was his first venture outside its protective boundaries.

"Tim doesn't know about immortals. As far as he's concerned, we're just a private organization with deep pockets and unusual requests. "

Anandur chuckled. "As long as the checks clear and we keep him supplied with food from his favorite restaurants, he's happy to draw whatever we describe. Though he does complain a lot and he's rude, so be ready for that."

Esag nodded. "I have a lot of experience deflecting questions, and if someone is stubborn, there is always thralling, right?"

"True," Anandur said. "Tim's talent is so extraordinary that we suspect he might be a Dormant, but he's such a pain in the ass that we are hesitant about bringing him into the fold."

"That seems rather harsh," Esag said between bites of beef and broccoli.

"You'll understand when you meet him," Kian said.

Esag put his fork down. "How do you find Dormants? In five thousand years, Davuh, Roven, and I never encountered a single immortal or Dormant. We thought we were the only survivors."

Kian felt a pang of sympathy for the guys who'd spent millennia believing their entire race had been wiped out.

"We were in the same situation," Kian admitted.

"We knew they were out there, but we didn't know how to identify them.

Then one day, Amanda decided to study neuroscience.

She became a professor and started researching people with paranormal abilities.

Her theory was that Dormants might manifest stronger psychic abilities than what can be found in the general human population, and she was right.

The first Dormant she found through her research was Syssi, my wife. "

"Lucky you," Esag said.

"Indeed, but I was so jaded by that point, so tired of the endless revolving door, that I didn't even want to meet her despite Amanda's urging.

The Fates conspired to put me in a position where I had to visit Amanda's lab, and the moment I saw Syssi, it was as if I had been struck by lightning.

I knew immediately that she was the one. "

"You're fortunate," Esag said. "To find your truelove mate is a priceless gift. I'm jealous."

"You'll find yours too. You've certainly earned it."

"Perhaps your sister could help?" Esag sounded hopeful. "Does she still conduct the research?"

Kian chuckled. "I'm afraid Amanda's track record isn't as impressive as that story might suggest. She found two Dormants through her research—Syssi and Michael. Every other Dormant who's joined the clan has been brought to us by the Fates, not scientific method."

"The Fates," Esag repeated. "They only reward those who have suffered greatly or who have sacrificed much for others. I do not deserve their boon."

"On the contrary," Kian said. "You should be at the top of their list. You've certainly suffered enough, spending five thousand years believing all of your people were gone except for your two companions.

You also sacrificed by leaving everything behind to search for Gulan.

It saved your life, but you couldn't have known that at the time. The Fates conspired to save you."

Esag shook his head. "That wasn't a sacrifice because it wasn't my choice. Khiann commanded me to find her, and I was following orders."

"Would you have said no?" Anandur asked. "If he gave you the choice?"

"Of course not." Esag looked a little flustered to be asked that question by Wonder's mate. "I was the reason she ran. I felt responsible for her drastic reaction."

"Then that was your choice." Anandur reached for one of the take-out boxes and emptied its contents onto his plate. "You sacrificed the cushy life your fiancée represented to go looking for the girl whose feelings you hurt."

When the doorbell chimed and Anandur walked to the front door to answer it, Kian looked at his watch. "Finally. Twenty minutes late. If he complains about the food being cold, I'm going to empty the noodles over his head."

As Andrew and Tim entered, the difference between them was striking, and not just because Andrew was handsome and Tim wasn't. His brother-in-law was dressed in a well-fitting suit, while Tim looked like he'd gotten dressed in the dark after a three-day bender.

The little hair he had was sticking up at odd angles, and the t-shirt he wore under his unbuttoned dress shirt proclaimed, 'I'm Not Antisocial, I'm Selectively Social.

' He also carried an oversized art case that seemed to weigh him down on one side.

His nose twitched like a bloodhound's as he eyed the Chinese food.

"Is that moo shu pork?" he asked by way of greeting, not bothering with hello. "And spring rolls? And..." He pushed past Andrew, following his nose. "General Tso's chicken! You beautiful bastard, you actually got everything on my list!"

"Hello to you, too, Tim," Kian said dryly.

Tim was already at the table, carefully setting his art case down next to his chair and grabbing a plate.

"Yeah, yeah, pleasantries, whatever. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had decent Chinese?

The place near my apartment closed, and everything else tastes like cardboard soaked in soy sauce. "

"Maybe if you cooked—" Andrew began.

"Cook?" Tim looked genuinely offended. "Why would I waste my time on cooking when other people can do it for me? That's like asking Michelangelo to mix his own paint. A waste of genius."

Anandur caught Kian's eye and mouthed, "Michelangelo?"

"Tim, I'd like you to meet Esag," Kian said in what he hoped was a patient tone. "He's the one you'll be working with today."

Tim glanced up from loading his plate, giving Esag a quick once-over. "You look a lot like that one." He waved his chopsticks at Anandur. "Brothers? Cousins?"

"Soul brothers," Esag said.

"Oh, you're British. How exciting." Tim went back to piling food on his plate. "Who do you need drawn?"

"An old friend," Esag said. "Someone I have not seen in a long time."

"How long ago is a long time? Because memories fade and details get fuzzy. Last year? Five years? Don't tell me this is some childhood sweetheart thing from thirty years ago."

Esag opened his mouth, possibly to say five thousand years, so Kian quickly intervened. "The time frame isn't important. Esag has an excellent memory for details. He's an artist himself, but he works in a different medium."

That got Tim's full attention, and he actually looked at Esag. "What's your passion?"

"Carving," Esag said. "I carve figurines."

"Requires patience I don't have. When you see me work, you'll get what I mean. I'm usually done in under an hour." Tim turned his attention back to the food, still loading his plate, which by now held enough to feed three people. "Did you order crab Rangoon?"

"Over there." Anandur pointed at a closed box. "Not a single one of us is a fan of that dish."

Tim's face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. "More for me. Do you have beer?"

"In the fridge in the kitchen," Anandur said. "If you want it, you'll have to get it yourself. We are not your servants."

"Fine." Tim pushed away from the table. "No one touches my crab Rangoon."

"I think it's time," Kian said when Tim was out of earshot, searching the refrigerator for treasures.

"Time for what?" Andrew asked.

"To tell Tim about his potential heritage and give him the choice. I feel guilty about putting it off for so long."

"We don't have a compeller with us," Andrew said.

"If Tim rejects the idea, or if he's not ready to come with us to the village right away, we'll have to thrall him to forget what we tell him, and that doesn't make sense.

We can do it some other time. Perhaps when Kalugal wants a portrait of his father drawn. "