Page 67 of Immortal Bastard

“The answer is no, Adriel, and that is final.”

“I am completely helpless here. I—”

“Think of what you’re asking. It goes against everything we believe to use a firearm in self-defense. Rifles are for hunting and hunting alone, and our species has no need for such things.”

“I’ve watched you make much bigger concessions, Eleazar. I know you’ve allowed the new transitions modern comforts that would never be permitted in other sects.”

He scoffed. “Those are harmless spoils. Battery-operated musical devices for Annalise and books for Destiny. You’re asking for a weapon. It’s out of the question.”

“I would not use it unless I needed it.”

“Weapons wound, Adriel.”

“Cerberus wounds!” she snapped. “He’s killed me a hundred times before. I won’t let him do it again.” She couldn’t go back to that weakened state of starvation. He was sentencing her to an endless existence ripped between this world and the purgatory where undead immortals go. “You can’t leave me defenseless.”

“The answer is no. You’re not a defenseless child anymore.”

“Who is to say any of my disciplines will serve me when I’m running for my life. Would you truly leave me helpless?”

“You’re one of the strongest females I know. You will never be helpless again. You’re safe here.”

“I don’t feel safe.” Furious that he would not grant her this wish, she stood. “I’m a lamb waiting for slaughter.” She wrung her hands. “He’s coming for me, Eleazar. I can sense it.”

“Adriel, you’re giving him power by—”

“No,” she snapped. “I give him nothing. He doesn’t need me to make him powerful. He’s survived more than any elder on this farm. You’re right, I’m not a foolish little girl anymore. I’m wise, and I know exactly what an immortal of his age is capable of. I will not stand meekly by, waiting, while he plans his revenge. This time I’ll be prepared. And I’ll not go calmly into the night.”

“Adriel—”

She silenced him with a cold stare. “Mark my words, Eleazar, I will kill him. I’ll kill him so there’s no possible way that monster can hurt me or anyone else again.”

CHAPTER 10

Time didn’t pass by unnoticed, it beat over Delilah like a river’s tide, shaping her and stripping stains of experience with relentless force. Every gentle lapping stole a piece of her, smoothing her abrasive edges. It didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. It just happened, whether she wanted it to or not.

Inevitable. Christian had claimed it would be so, but she hadn’t believed him. She didn’t trust him. Yet here she was, adapting and accepting these changes with baffling calm.

Her anger was at odds with the overwhelming threat of acceptance. While she clung to a disgruntled need for retaliation and revenge, another part of her seemed centered and at peace with what was happening.

The new version of herself seemed…cleaner, sharper, healthier, and, for all of those reasons, unrecognizable.

“Ladybug, ladybug, fly away…” she whispered, turning her hand in a golden ray of the setting sun. The small tattoo on her finger was fading at a concerning rate.

The details had vanished leaving a slight blemish on her knuckle. Compared to what it was a day ago, the darkened smear worried her. How many tattoos would she lose? She was afraid to look at her body too closely, afraid she was fading away, disappearing into the ether of time and losing her individuality.

If her identity washed away, would all traces of her existence eventually follow? The permanence of her world didn’t matter here. There were powers at play she couldn’t comprehend and rules she broke without trying.

Her mind was a mess of chaos, endless spinning vortexes of confusion followed by too many stormy emotions to decipher. She only knew she wasn’t happy.

Time alone helped. She needed time to process, and there was so much to digest, she wanted to think things through on her own. Sitting in the privacy of Christian’s bedroom, unsure where he’d gone or how long he’d be, she looked at his hat, forgotten on the floor.

Nothing—in terms of possibilities—seemed off the table at this point. Holding her hand out, palm facing the hat, she opened her fingers and held her breath, forcing her energy into her arm, directing all her focus at the crushed hat lying on the floor.

It didn’t move.

Disappointed, she blew out a breath. No Jedi mind tricks.

She glanced at the door, anticipating his return when she heard a distant creek in the foundation of the house. Perhaps part of her even yearned for his presence, but that couldn’t be. She hated him. She was here because of what he’d done to her. He was her enemy.

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