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Immortal Dreams (Immortal Realms Book 1) Page 2


  “Oh, these shoes! They always get caught on everything. Amele, remind me to toss these in the Goodwill bag when I get home,” she stammered. She felt Amele touch her shoulder gently and then she moved back to the barstool.

  Sheree was in between them and not paying attention to anyone but Isabel. She just stood there looking at her, smirking, and Michael was doubled over in laughter across the room. If it was possible, she would’ve made herself disappear. Sheree remained rooted, staring with a menacing smile that had no place here on her birthday, and Isabel began to feel something build inside her that was practically a foreign emotion.

  Anger. She wanted to smack the smile right off Sheree’s face. “Is there something you need, Sheree? Other than my seconds?” she said, with her own menacing smile creeping to the corners of her own mouth. Score one, Isabel! she chanted in her head. Her internal happy dance was cut short though by the most annoying laughter she’d ever heard. High pitched and loud, it felt like nails on a chalkboard in her head. She winced a little from it before Sheree leaned in closer to her.

  “Oh please, seconds? Michael told me all about you, lightning girl,” she said as she laughed that screeching laugh again. Isabel looked over at Amele who had the deadliest look in her eyes that she’d ever seen, other than in the movies. Or was that the alcohol making her see that? Whatever the case, Sheree really needed to get out of her space, and fast. Her hands were humming with a weird energy and it was making her feel really off balance to be so close to this ridiculous and insulting woman. Lightning girl? Really? Isabel heard a weird sound that was like a growl and darted her eyes around, before she realized it came from her. Great. She had a nickname, and was now acting like a growling dog, too. Could this night get any better? Amele clapped her hands, getting Sheree’s attention, and the annoying laughter died down.

  “Shoo,” Amele whispered, eyes on fire as she stared Sheree down.

  The smile left Sheree’s face completely and she lifted her chin after giving Amele a once over that only made Amele’s eyes dance with a darkness that made Isabel shiver. Holy crap, what was in these drinks?

  “Another round at the pool table when you can, Pete,” Sheree said, and spun away...walking back to where Michael and his friends were.

  Isabel’s cheeks were still burning like mad. She moved as gracefully as she could back to the bar stool and sucked back the shot that Pete had put out for her in one gulp. She looked over at Amele who was again calm and sweet faced, and then went to use the restroom. It wasn’t until she could barely stand over the toilet that she realized how very drunk she was. After an extended restroom stay trying to splash some cold water on her face and reapplying her lip gloss somewhat successfully, she returned to the bar where Amele was waiting for her.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah, but I think you’re right. Time to go.”

  She shot one more furious glance over toward Michael and Sheree and frowned. They were still laughing. Loudly. What. A. Damn. Jerk.

  “Now, now, Bel. Don’t go getting your panties in a bunch over that.”

  Isabel snorted and looked away. “Too late.”

  Amele placed a few large bills on the counter and smiled to Pete.

  “Happy birthday, Isabel,” he said to her with a smile.

  Yeah right. Drunk, embarrassed, and beginning to get very fuzzy? Yes. Happy? Maybe not so much. But that wasn’t Pete’s fault. He was the sweetest—and only—bartender she knew, since she didn’t venture to the strip bar. Maybe that would’ve been a better choice? She forced a smile and thanked him before taking Amele’s arm. She really may not ever wear these shoes again now—they were too damn wobbly. They walked out of the bar, arms linked, and headed for Black Beauty. That was Amele’s black BMW. As long as she’d known her, she’d always had a lot of money, but no family. She said she inherited it young, some kind of trust fund was set up or something when her parents died—which were all she had in the way of family. They had that in common at least, minus the trust fund. It created a permanent bond when they’d first met. The dizziness hit her with a new forceful wave, and she nearly tripped as she stumbled into the passenger seat.

  “Oh God, is the world going to stop spinning anytime soon?”

  Amele just looked at her and laughed. “Well certainly by morning, doll, but not a second before. Don’t worry, we’ll get you all fixed up.”

  That was just great. She closed her eyes hoping that would help, but it just made it worse. She should’ve never had that last drink. The world was whirling like an amusement park ride from hell, and she could barely hear Amele in the distance even though she was right next to her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her stomach was revolting its contents.

  “Okay, we’re going home. Just hang in there, and please don’t throw up in my car,”

  “Well, I wouldn’t feel like I needed to if you weren’t driving in circles!”

  “Oh man, whose idea was this to get you tanked for your twenty-second birthday? Oh yeah, it was mine. I’m the brilliant one.”

  Isabel looked at her with as much ferocity as she could muster before the spinning resumed with a vengeance. “Why did we go out again? Oh, how could I forget? You thought it would be fun to torture me into getting drunk and groveling over my ex and his new girlfriend. G-r-e-a-t birthday bash, thank you, Amele.”

  “Hey now, she’s not worth the breath that it took to get that out, and neither is he. You’ll see, you’ve got much better things coming than that asshat.”

  Isabel scoffed before responding, holding onto her temples, “Yeah, I’m just a real pick of the litter. That’s why I’m still a virgin…at twenty-two. Do you understand the odds of that in this day and age? When it’s not by choice? It’s absolutely ridiculous. I’m ridiculous, and it sucks,” she slurred. The dim lights along the side of the road were blurring past like shooting stars now and as soon as she began to watch them racing by she felt her stomach lurch. “Oh God, pull over. I don’t think I can make it home.”

  She squealed the BMW to a stop and Isabel opened the car door, falling out. On all fours she heaved red juice and vodka until all the remnants of those, what were they called? Oh yeah, ‘Sex on the Beach,’ shots were out of her stomach. Amele had said it would be a romantic drink that they could imagine being in some warm, tropical place with. Yeah right. Never again, she vowed, as she climbed weakly back into the black car, the foul taste in her mouth nearly making her gag again.

  “You going to be okay long enough for me to finish driving up your road? Or maybe I should call Michael to come give me a hand?” she said as she grinned with a wicked smile over at her.

  “Amele, please,” she shrieked. “Home!”

  Sighing heavily Amele started them back down the road. “As you wish, Princess Isabel. I’ll even tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story. I’ve got loads.”

  Isabel tried to strike her playfully but hit the side of the seat instead. How much further could her house be? Pete’s Tavern was practically walking distance. If everything wasn’t such a spinning mess she might actually be able to see. Just as she thought she was going to have to have Amele stop again she heard the gravel crunching beneath the car and sighed in relief, her stomach clenching. It figured that the first time she decided to “unleash her inner goddess” she’d ended up a miserable beast and going home alone. She had been coerced into this night to begin with, and promised to have the time of her life by her best friend. Instead, she got to watch her ex have the time of his while she kept slipping back that fruity, red crap that Pete pushed at her. She did have some fun dancing at least, before she couldn’t walk.

  The car door opened and she was hauled out of it by an unusually strong best friend. As they stumbled up the drive and onto the porch, a small package was waiting there. Or perhaps it was three? She couldn’t get a grip on reality at the moment.

  “Have you got a secret admirer, birthday girl?” Amele asked, picking up the box. She looked at her with raised brows. Isa
bel just shook her head and reached out her hand. Even in her state she could tell that there was no address, to or from, but she was pretty sure that her name had been written out at least once or maybe twice on the top. The box was small, but fairly heavy, and she was curious but she could hardly hold it. Who would’ve dropped by a gift for her? No one in the world would even think of it other than Amele, and she didn’t do it from the look of surprise on her face.

  “Let’s just put it on the table for now. I want to get a shower and rinse tonight off me.”

  Her hands were dirty from the ground and she reeked from throwing up. Heading inside, she stumbled straight to the bathroom and started the water. Stripping off the little black dress and evil heels that Amele insisted she wear to show off her “sexy legs,” she stepped into the streaming mist. Although the spins were still there, she felt at least ten percent better now that she could feel the grime coming off her. Opening her favorite shampoo she lathered up her long, wavy hair with the rosemary mint creme and rinsed. She scrubbed her skin with soap the best she could, wobbling as she was, and got her makeup off her face. When she felt normal enough to at least put pajamas on she turned off the water and stepped out. Wrapping a towel on her head and drying off with another, she fell over when she tried to bend over and dry her legs. Crashing into the side of the vanity, she yelled out as her head hit the porcelain. Amele opened the door and just stood there in the doorway, a pitying look on her face as Isabel held her head.

  “You know, this wouldn’t happen if you actually did drink once in a while. This is a classic case of what happens when you don’t live a little by the time you’re twenty-two.”

  Staring ice shards at her, she retorted, “Thanks for reminding me how pitiful my existence is, Amele. I think I can take it from here.” She pulled her hand back from her head and expected to see blood as hard as she hit it, but her hand was clean when she pulled it back.

  Wobbling unsteadily to her room after brushing her teeth—spearmint a definite improvement over recycled vodka—she reached into one of her drawers for a cotton sleep tank and pants. Amele stood in the doorway watching her, an amused grin on her face as she put her pants on backwards. “Jesus, I can’t even get dressed. Screw it, I’ll sleep with them backwards. Tell me why we did this again?” she asked as she stumbled into the bed.

  “Because you don’t know how to have fun, and it was time that you loosened up a little. You always have yourself crammed in a book or a silly journal, and you don’t know how to let your hair down. Life isn’t so serious, Bel.”

  “I happen to like my books and journals, thank you very much, and if this is fun, then I really don’t see the point in having much more of it. There’s nothing left in my stomach and I still feel like I’m going to throw up! Speaking of, how is it that you’re standing there perfectly sober after drinking three times what I did tonight?”

  “Ah, you’re exaggerating how much I drank, but in any case my tolerance is way more built up than yours. And I did try to slow you down, but once you saw…well, anyway.” Amele waived her arms in the air, “From there it was a losing battle to keep you away from the bartender. Drinking doesn’t have to be like this. In moderation it’s great.”

  “Okay, thank you. I’m now officially a lush. That’s so awesome. God, I just hate to see him with that stuck up girl. Did she have to say that crap to me? I mean, really, lightning girl? It’s not my fault that every time we got close to doing it severe storms came up.” She grimaced and squeezed her fingertips on the bridge of her nose to stop the painful throbbing of the pending headache. “Like I have something to do with the damn weather. I’ve actually got a nickname, Amele! How am I ever going to be normal here again? No one will ever want me, not that many have at this point, anyway. My life is over, and it’s only just begun.” Her eyes glazed over as she thought about her miserable existence. Although, it was pretty insane that whenever he got near her pants lightning would roar all around them. Hail even broke the window of her bedroom the last time he tried, which was the last time he ever did.

  “Who the hell wants to be normal? That’s no fun, sweetheart, trust me. As for the nickname, I promise it won’t stick for too long. But, don’t you think it’s strange that every time he would get close to sleeping with you that massive storms erupted?” She looked at her gently and sat down on the bed.

  “Well, of course I do, but what the hell am I supposed to think about it? I’m cursed or something? Maybe I’ll never lose my virginity because any man who gets near me will be struck down by lightning or some random tornado. I can be the star in some freakshow, where guys can pay to kiss ‘lightning girl’ and see Mother Nature’s wrath. It will be awesomesauce. I’m just awesomesauce.” Her eyes glazed over again. The tornado was even worse. Her first boyfriend made it to second base before one touched down not far from them. That was the first and only one she had ever heard about in their small town. Needless to say, since the day was blue and beautiful before he reached in her shirt, she didn’t see him again either. Well, she did, but he was too scared to even come near her.

  Amele just chuckled as she slumped down on the bed next to her. “You know I love the crap out of you, but you do have a really crazy history when it comes to men. Bright side…this will be a great story to tell your children someday. Any lover of yours that can survive the storms and actually sleep with you, will be one hell of a man. Look forward to meeting that man, not these boys of the Appalachians that live around here.”

  She wanted to laugh at Amele, but her mood was too somber. Just once, she wanted to have a normal relationship. A kiss without worrying about lightning or hail striking someone down. Isabel longed to feel a mans’ hands stroking her hair as they cuddled and watched a movie. Normal, she wanted a normal date.

  Amele sighed and ran her hands through her curls, as Isabel closed her eyes and enjoyed it for a moment. “It will be worth it someday, I promise,” she smiled down to her warmly and tucked the wet curls behind her ears.

  “I guess so,” she mumbled. “I think I need to pass out now while the world has somewhat stilled.”

  “Wait, take these and drink some water. It will help the way you’re going to feel in the morning.” Amele handed her a couple of aspirin from her purse and went and filled a glass of water in the bathroom. Isabel complied, taking them both from her and gulping the water down.

  “Thanks, for taking me out and at least trying to give me a fun birthday. You’re really the best,” she halfway smiled, her eyes already closing again…forgetting completely about the strange package.

  Amele reached down and gave her a quick squeeze. “I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you’re doing, but not too early, I promise. Sweet dreams, Isabel.” Amele covered her up and walked out of the house after setting the coffee maker, using the spare key to lock the door behind her.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Prince

  “ISABEL, WAKE UP,” said a soothing, very masculine voice. She opened her eyes abruptly thinking someone was in her house, and was stunned to find herself laying in the grass underneath the stars. Looking around, she was in a place that glowed with white lights, the scents of lavender and jasmine and something she couldn’t describe teasing her nose. Towering white arches of a castle came into view, blending into the mountain in the distance and shimmering against the dark backdrop. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the enormous castle and cascading landscape. The architecture was all round and curved; not a single, normal block type structure anywhere. As her senses were assaulted in this new world, Isabel forgot all about the voice that woke her.

  She looked down and instead of the pajama’s that she put on before bed, a simple white, sleeveless dress made of the most beautifully soft fabric she’d ever felt covered her to her ankles. Bare feet and manicured toes peeked out from below the hem. Twilight filled the darkening skies and the soft sounds of animals that she didn’t recognize could be heard all around her. Isabel jumped to her feet and her eyes darte
d around frantically.

  “What the hell? Am I dreaming?” she asked herself, trembling slightly. You weren’t supposed to be able to smell or feel things in your dreams and she could definitely feel the warm breeze on her arms and in her hair, in addition to all the distinct scents she was smelling in that breeze.

  “Well, the answer to that is really yes, and no,” came that voice from behind her. She spun around and almost screamed. Six foot something of lean muscle and long white hair stood there. Stark white. Lack of color white. It reminded her of snow that had just fallen and was strangely beautiful in an otherworldly way. The greenest eyes of the deepest emerald hue stared back, and his face looked chiseled from a statue of a Greek God. High, aristocratic cheekbones and full lips graced her eyes, and a shimmer of a glow covered him a bit, as if he was both in and made of light. She closed her eyes and opened them again, struck mute by his ethereal beauty. Never had she seen a model or actor that was this divine. Golden skin rippled from the white tunic that he wore open at his chest, and although he did have pants on, there wasn’t much in the way of the thickness of the cloth that looked exactly like what she had on. Every taut muscle of his upper thighs threatened to rip the fabric covering them and as her eyes roamed up from those thighs, she gasped. Oh God, not very much between him and that fabric at all!

  Isabel forced her eyes back up again and saw him grinning from ear to pointed ear!? Long pieces of hair were plaited in front of them so they weren’t that noticeable, but they were definitely pointed at the tops.