Darkness Falls (Immortal Beloved Book 02)

I want you.” Reyn’s voice, low and insistent, seemed to come at me from all angles. And no wonder, because he was looming over me obnoxiously as I filled a big glass jar with basmati rice from the twenty-five-pound sack we keep in the pantry.

Look at me: “we.” I’m all about the “we-ness,” as if I belonged here at River’s Edge, rehab central for wayward immortals. Sort of a twelve-step program. Which in my case had more like a hundred and eleventy steps. I’d been a Riverite only two months and had no idea how long it would take to undo 450-plus years of bad behavior. At least several more weeks, for sure. Probably more like seven or eight years. Or longer. Ugh.

I shifted closer to the big wooden kitchen worktable and hoped I wouldn’t spill rice everywhere, because God knows that would be a pain in the ass to clean up.

“You want me, too.” I could practically hear his fists clenching and unclenching.

“No, I don’t. Go away.” Welcome to the freak-show circus of Nastasya’s romantic exploits. It isn’t for the faint of heart. Or the faint of stomach. Is that a phrase?

Nastasya: C’est moi. One of your friendly neighborhood immortals. Except for the friendly part. If I’m being honest. A couple months ago, I’d realized I’d good-timed myself into a wretched place of depraved indifference, and I’d sought help from River, an immortal I’d met back in 1929. Now I was here in rural Massachusetts, learning how to be one with nature, magick, peace, love, harmony, etc. Or at least trying not to feel like throwing myself headfirst into a wood chipper.

There were other immortals here: four teachers and currently eight students. Such as me. And Reyn, Viking wonderboy. For example.