Davina (Davy Harwood #3)(54)

She didn’t reply. She closed her eyes and sighed inwardly as he grasped her in his arms. Lifting her, her legs wound around his waist, and he stepped away from the fight. “Davina,” he gasped again, but then he pressed her against a tree. “My God—I don’t care.” His mouth opened, demanding hers to do the same and his tongue slid inside. The brush of him against her was a caress and Davy wound her arms around his neck. She arched her back into the tree, pushing her breasts toward him. She hungered for more. She wanted his touch in the center of her. The human was clambering to get closer and Davy answered.

Her hands went to the side of his face and held him.

He kept kissing her. He was claiming her.

Me. He was claiming me . . .

“No!” The Immortal rose up. “You cannot have her!”

The Immortal slammed her backwards.

“Davy!” Roane roared, moving with her. He didn’t know how she came to him. He didn’t care to question it, but he had her. He wanted her back. He had to have her. Whatever was going on inside of her, he needed to grasp her. He had to be her anchor. He could tell that she was losing herself. He reached out for her and Davy tried to grasp his hand, but The Immortal growled, and broke through the barrier inside of Davy.

She gasped.

The power was immense. It spilled out inside of her, coating her insides with its power. It was a burst of cold air. It felt alien, but refreshing, and then it was over. As soon the floodgates opened, she was drowning. There was no chance of a fight inside of her. The power overwhelmed her, instantly suffocating her. Davy was gone. She had lost. The Immortal was free inside of her—her body bent in half. Her back arched upward, and as it did, her body flew in the air.

She flew.

Her entire body transformed. Her body was going up in the air, flying, and her hair billowed out, turning into a black color. A white dress covered her now, and her hands flung backwards. She pushed up into the sky, going higher and higher until she was above the entire foray below.

All of them stopped. The woman in white had taken over the battle, but as Roane watched, she stopped in mid-air and looked down.

A rumbling started in the distance.

Everyone stopped.





THE IMMORTAL


This was her world.

The Immortal relished this sudden experience. She was free. She was alive. She was in control and she gazed down upon the war beneath her. Simpletons. The lot of them. All of them were weak. She wrinkled her nose. Here she was in the air and looking down on them. She was above them.

She was a god to them.

She couldn’t believe this was the world Davy honored above everything else. She wanted to be one of those weaklings. No. It was worse. These creatures were more powerful than humans. Davy wanted to be the lowest of the beings.

Never.

Determination coursed through her and as she gazed beneath her, The Immortal’s hands formed into fists. She would never be replaced. The human in her would never become human again. Davy’s destiny was linked with hers. She would not allow it. She would never go back into the shell, contained as a thread, jumping from one less than worthy human to another. All of them. They were all stupid. Everything they believed was wrong.

“Davy?”

She looked over to the cliff. Lucas Roane, the vampire that Davy loved. He was the vampire Talia loved as well, but he had no idea where their love for him was created. He would need to understand. Even now, while she was still acclimating to her new freedom, her body felt a stirring in her core. Her body wanted this vampire, but that was no surprise to her.

Everyone had stopped to gaze upon her, like the goddess she was. They felt her power. There were pockets among them, places where one person had more power than the other, but none matched her. She could feel her superiority over them, so they were ignored. For now.

She lowered herself so she was a few feet from the vampire Davy loved, and she cocked her head to the side. A small grin formed. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare. She sensed the horror in him. It was recoiling inside, pulling him from her. It was the body’s instinct for survival.

She did not come in peace, and his body was trying to pull him as far from her as possible, but still, he didn’t go.

Her eyes narrowed. “I can feel what is going on inside of you.”

Roane remained frozen in place. This couldn’t be . . . No, no. This couldn’t—he choked out, “Davy?”

She shook her head, slowly, and almost gently. “You know I am no longer her.” She took a step toward him. Her feet were bare, but she felt no pain. The ground was covered in blood, dirt, rocks, and she felt none of it. She only felt her power. Her dress glided over her body as she walked another step forward.

He jerked backwards. His eyes were piercing. A nerve bulged out from his neck. “Stop right there.”

“Now, Lucas,” she chided, wagging a finger from side to side. “You know I am not a being you can command. If anyone should know how powerful I am, it must be you.” She sent him visions of their past. The first memory was when he realized the thread had jumped to Talia. The second when he watched her bring their dead mother back to life. The third, when Talia stood behind her sister. Her hand was up and she was going to attempt the same event. Tracey was turned into a vampire and Talia wanted to make her human. Lucas stopped her, but The Immortal remembered that moment. She wanted Talia to try. She wanted to test the boundaries of her power, see how far she could go. He stopped her, though, and the two made love. The Immortal made him remember that night. When he slipped inside the thread-holder, held her, and cupped her face. He gazed down into Talia’s eyes, but it wasn’t Talia he was looking at. It was her.