Read Online Immortal Essence Box Set: Aligned, Exiled, Beguiled by Rashelle Workman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rashelle Workman
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noticed a bullet remained. The gun must’ve been his fathers . Michael had taken it and tucked it between his mattresses. At the time, he hadn’t been sure why he kept it.
Holding it up, he put a finger on the trigger, turning it back and forth, watching it gleam in the morning rays of the sun. It was a .45; silver, except the handle, which was black. Solid. Heavy. Loaded.
Maybe now he knew.
Maybe he’d found the gun so that he could end his life.
He pressed the business end against the side of his head. And waited. For what, he wasn’t sure. A sign. When he’d seen Venus he’d believed she was his sign . . .
I’m done. It’s over. He pushed the gun harder against his head.
Coward!
The word zinged. Stung him. Punched him in the gut. An unfamiliar voice inside his head.
Then came images of Venus, the softness of her lips, the way she’d felt in his arms. There was something different about her. He tapped the gun against his head, bugged he still thought about the arrogant girl.
Coward!
The word ripped through his mind again.
“I’m not a coward,” he shouted.
Immediately all sounds of the forest stopped. No birds, no rustling of animals in the underbrush. Only the snarling stream and the breeze whistling through the trees interrupted the silence.
Breathing heavily, he stood and turned, sensing a presence.
9. Dead Man’s Party
Killing humans had become sort of a hobby for Dervinias. It wasn’t that he despised them so much as he detested their weakness. The human condition. Their flimsy bodies and limited minds. The way the creatures were swayed by a television commercial or a beautiful temptation. Every time he slaughtered one, the best part came right before they died. The moment each person realized how much more could’ve existed in their menial lives. It filled him like a drug. And he wanted more.
With billions of humans to choose from, and more born every second, his options were limitless.
In truth, Dervinias had bigger plans for the defective race. After two hundred years of immortality, he’d had plenty of time to make plans, form secret alliances and set up Earth as the planet he would rule. Very shortly, all the pieces would be in place, and then he could begin.
For now, it was enough to demonstrate his power over them. Tonight a man by the name of Thaddeus Holstrom needed to lose his family. He and his irreverent employers had to be taught a lesson. Stalking him and his absurd government group—A.L.T.—proved too easy. Finding his little family and ending their lives—a pleasure.
Thaddeus and his family lived in Westbrook Run, a quiet neighborhood in the city of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Filled with children, evenly trimmed hedges, and two parent families, everybody knew everybody. From the outside, this neighborhood appeared perfect. For the most part, the appearances were true.
Except today. Today Dervinias would change all that.
Innocence had already been murdered. Another death would now begin. If only humans weren’t so naive. So trusting . . .
“It’s time to make you bleed.” Dervinias spoke reverently. The terrified woman, Judy, had been bound to her dining table. She’d been forced onto her back; pale hands tied in front, mouth gagged with a black strip of fabric. Frightened eyes flicked back and forth between Dervinias and the five blue-robed figures. Off to the right sprawled her two dead children, Alice and Henry. Their bleeding bodies face up. Eyes open, mouths frozen in terror. The smell of death and furniture polish saturated the air, almost solid enough to touch.
The five in navy blue stood in a semi-circle behind Dervinias. As leader, he wore white. A large hood covered each of their heads. Long bell sleeves hung together at the wrists, where those in blue had their hands clasped. Their robes were long and made of terrycloth. A ridiculous material, but it served its purpose. The statuesque forms of his followers hummed continuously, heads
Holding it up, he put a finger on the trigger, turning it back and forth, watching it gleam in the morning rays of the sun. It was a .45; silver, except the handle, which was black. Solid. Heavy. Loaded.
Maybe now he knew.
Maybe he’d found the gun so that he could end his life.
He pressed the business end against the side of his head. And waited. For what, he wasn’t sure. A sign. When he’d seen Venus he’d believed she was his sign . . .
I’m done. It’s over. He pushed the gun harder against his head.
Coward!
The word zinged. Stung him. Punched him in the gut. An unfamiliar voice inside his head.
Then came images of Venus, the softness of her lips, the way she’d felt in his arms. There was something different about her. He tapped the gun against his head, bugged he still thought about the arrogant girl.
Coward!
The word ripped through his mind again.
“I’m not a coward,” he shouted.
Immediately all sounds of the forest stopped. No birds, no rustling of animals in the underbrush. Only the snarling stream and the breeze whistling through the trees interrupted the silence.
Breathing heavily, he stood and turned, sensing a presence.
9. Dead Man’s Party
Killing humans had become sort of a hobby for Dervinias. It wasn’t that he despised them so much as he detested their weakness. The human condition. Their flimsy bodies and limited minds. The way the creatures were swayed by a television commercial or a beautiful temptation. Every time he slaughtered one, the best part came right before they died. The moment each person realized how much more could’ve existed in their menial lives. It filled him like a drug. And he wanted more.
With billions of humans to choose from, and more born every second, his options were limitless.
In truth, Dervinias had bigger plans for the defective race. After two hundred years of immortality, he’d had plenty of time to make plans, form secret alliances and set up Earth as the planet he would rule. Very shortly, all the pieces would be in place, and then he could begin.
For now, it was enough to demonstrate his power over them. Tonight a man by the name of Thaddeus Holstrom needed to lose his family. He and his irreverent employers had to be taught a lesson. Stalking him and his absurd government group—A.L.T.—proved too easy. Finding his little family and ending their lives—a pleasure.
Thaddeus and his family lived in Westbrook Run, a quiet neighborhood in the city of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Filled with children, evenly trimmed hedges, and two parent families, everybody knew everybody. From the outside, this neighborhood appeared perfect. For the most part, the appearances were true.
Except today. Today Dervinias would change all that.
Innocence had already been murdered. Another death would now begin. If only humans weren’t so naive. So trusting . . .
“It’s time to make you bleed.” Dervinias spoke reverently. The terrified woman, Judy, had been bound to her dining table. She’d been forced onto her back; pale hands tied in front, mouth gagged with a black strip of fabric. Frightened eyes flicked back and forth between Dervinias and the five blue-robed figures. Off to the right sprawled her two dead children, Alice and Henry. Their bleeding bodies face up. Eyes open, mouths frozen in terror. The smell of death and furniture polish saturated the air, almost solid enough to touch.
The five in navy blue stood in a semi-circle behind Dervinias. As leader, he wore white. A large hood covered each of their heads. Long bell sleeves hung together at the wrists, where those in blue had their hands clasped. Their robes were long and made of terrycloth. A ridiculous material, but it served its purpose. The statuesque forms of his followers hummed continuously, heads
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