Rise of Cain (Immortal Mercenary Book 3)

  Rise of Cain

  Immortal Mercenary Book Three

  Conner Kressley

  Myth Mountain Publishing

  Contents

  Note From the Author

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Note From the Author

  Thanks so much for checking out book three of the Immortal Mercenary series. For updates on the series as well as free stuff and exclusive content, please join my mailing list.

  Buy the complete series on Amazon

  Mark of Cain: Immortal Mercenary Book One

  Curse of Cain: Immortal Mercenary Book Two

  Prologue

  In the Beginning

  I had never been on my own before. In my short life, I couldn’t think of more than a few moments without the watchful gaze of either Mother, Father, Abel, or He who made us falling over me.

  That was not to be anymore.

  Mother could no longer bare to look at me, Father cursed the name he gave me, and Abel had descended into the earth. I sent him there, with rock, and rage, and regret. He was never coming back. This world, new and sparkling, was to miss him as much as I did. No one wanted to hear that though. Not Father, not Mother, and certainly not He who made us.

  I tried to explain myself, to tell them I didn’t know, that I couldn’t have known. I was angry. I was afraid. I was tired and embarrassed and I had no idea that lashing out in the way I did would leave my brother still and unmoving.

  I was told that he was gone, but what did that even mean? Gone where? Gone for how long? Where was there to go and why would he not move? We had fallen before. We had scraped our knees and busted our lips. We had been hurt. We had seen the blood and tasted of the pain. It was far from the first fight I’d ever had with my brother, so what made this different? Why would it not end?

  They called him ‘dead’. It was word that had never before fell upon my ears. What was dead? Was it that unending sleep? Was it the fact that he would move no more, that I could never speak to him, that he would never call my name or tend to his flock ever again?

  I shook as my head as dark expanses of land lay in front of me.

  I did not have the answers to these questions and all the people who might would no longer provide them for me. I was on my own in a world I knew nothing about, in a place that had neither boundaries nor end.

  The mark He had burned into me stung and lay heavy against my eye. I did not want to touch it, but I could not help myself. It was a part of me now, as was the curse He who made us assured me would always reside in it, always reside in me.

  I was to be the Great Wanderer. I was to walk this earth without home, without family, without love or peace.

  And it was to be forever.

  I blinked tears out of my eyes. They would do no good. There was no one here to see them, no one to wipe them from my face or give me reprieve from the hurt which stoked them.

  I had only my thoughts, only memories to keep me company. All that existed had turned from me. Even the beasts of the land or the sea would not care for me, though they would not hurt me either. The mark made sure of that. It would hurt anyone who tried to harm me. Sevenfold, that’s what He who made us said. I didn’t get the feeling it was supposed to make me feel better either. If it was a kindness, it was lost on me. I would have loved nothing more than to go to the place where I sent my brother, to join him in the earth and tell him how sorry I was.

  I could not though and, if He is to be believed, I never would.

  “Lost little boy,” a voice said from somewhere behind me, somewhere in the darkness.

  It startled me, shaking me to my core. I had never heard this voice before and, since the birth of my brother, I had never heard a new voice. I knew everyone in the world, everyone who existed. This was not one of those people.

  So who was it?

  I spun, my heart pounding in my chest as I thrust a makeshift spear outward, gritting my teeth.

  “Who are you? How are you?” I asked, swallowing hard.

  A figure stepped out of the shadows, into the streaming moonlight of the night.

  She was a woman, like mother. That made no sense. Mother was the only woman, the only one ever. She was made from Father. How could another exist?

  “You are the serpent,” I said, narrowing my eyes as the idea settled in my head. “Mother told me the serpent can take many shapes.”

  The woman, tall with pale skin and long black hair that hung down her to her waist, walked toward me. She shook her head, looking at me with bright violet eyes.

  “She also told me of the evils of which you are capable. She told me to fear you. She said-”

  “Do you believe everything your mother tells you, little boy? Is that how you came to be so lost?” the woman asked, smiling at me. The smile tore into me, making me feel uneasy, making me feel exposed.

  “I am where I am because of what I have done. My mother is not to blame,” I said, swallowing hard.

  “And what is it that you have done, little boy?” she asked, moving closer.

  As she bridged the gap between us, I backed away, the spear still raised toward her.

  “That is none of your concern, serpent!” I said, thrusting the spear further out. “He who created us set a mark upon my skin. Be warned, anything you do to me will be repaid upon you sevenfold.”

  “I see your mark, little boy. Do you think you are the only one who has been marked?” she asked, still coming. “Do you think you are the only one who has been banished?”

  My head churned with possibility, my mind spinning at the proximity of her. Now that she was upon me, I could see every pore in her pale face. I could count the strands of her hair should I choose to.

  “There have been no others,” I answered, tearing my gaze away from her violet eyes. “Only Father, Mother, Abel, and I. There has been no one to banish, no one to mark. I am the first. I am the only.”

  “If you believe that, you are a fool then,” she said. She reached out, gently pushing the tip of my spear toward the ground.

  For some reason, I let her.

  “You think of me as the serpent, yet you know nothing of that beast.” She spat on the ground and the dirt began to smoke as if lit on fire. “The serpent seeks destruction and chaos. The serpent seeks rot and an end of that which is distasteful to him.”

  “But you must be,” I said, doing the very simple math in my head. “There are no others in this world. You are the serpent.”

  “I am not, little boy,” she answered.

  “Do not call me that!” I demanded, a flair of rage running through me. I was not a boy. A boy is not held accountable for his actions. I certainly have been, and that alone is enough to make me a man.

  “I called you that when you took your first breath,” she answered. “I know no other name for you.” She shook her head. “As you know no name for me. I shall give you one.” She touched my hand, and a jolt of energy shot through it. I felt a burning in my skin and jerked away.

  �
��Sevenfold!” I screamed, reminding her of the cost of this action.

  “It will be worth it,” she said and, even then, I saw her face begin to burn with boils and blisters. Still, she neither moved, nor screamed out in pain. “I am the first victim of this world,” she told me. “I am the first lost to shadow. I am the first who has had what is precious to her stolen.” She shook her head. “But I shall have my vengeance, little boy and, on that day, we shall know each other’s names.”

  She laughed, her face still burning. Then she turned and left me.

  I never saw her again.

  1

  I stood there, staring at my brother and thinking a thousand thoughts all at once. Since the moment I stopped his heart, all I ever wanted was to see it beat again.

  It wasn’t for him, of course. I didn’t know it then. Back in that horrible field, I had no idea what happened to people after they died. Hell, I didn’t even know what death was. It wasn’t until later, once the world filled up and rose around me, that I understood the concept of mortality and what happens to the soul once it passes from this world to the next.

  Abel had found peace, something I would never find. He was content. He was whole in a way nothing could ever be in this life, only in the next. Wanting to see him again, wanting to watch the life pour back into his body, was a purely selfish desire. If he was alive, then what I’d done wasn’t permeant. If he was back, then the stigma hanging over my marked head and the hole drilled into my eternally broken heart might vanish. It might melt like snow at dawn. It was all I wanted. Still, now that it had happened, the only thing I could feel was pain.

  “This isn’t real,” I said instinctively, my jaw tightening and my body tensing up. “This isn’t him, not really.”

  I felt Andy’s stare on me and I was sure Aria was looking too. Still, I couldn’t turn away from Abel. He was mesmerizing. A ghost pulled from the deepest recesses of my mind and plopped before me. A walking, talking monument to just how big a fuck up I really was. He was my shame personified, and I loved him more than anything that had ever existed.

  “You know the truth in what I say, Brother,” he answered, not even a shadow of falseness in his tone. Hearing him again, with my ears instead of my mind, sent shockwaves through my body. It had been an eternity. It had been longer than anyone could even fathom since I last really heard my brother’s voice. Yet still, I knew it was real. I knew it was true.

  Abel started toward me, and Andy raised his gun.

  “You need to stand back, bud-”

  Instantly and without explanation, I grabbed his gun, wrenching it from his hands and sending him stumbling backward.

  He looked at me with wide eyes as I held the stupid thing in my hands. If he was looking at me and hoping to find some kind of understanding, he was out of luck. In truth, I had no idea why I just did that. It was an instinct, a primal need to protect a person I had failed to protect before, a person I had murdered with my own hands.

  “I’m sorry,” I answered, breathing heavy and turning back to the person wearing my brother’s face. “Whatever’s happening here, it isn’t funny,” I said, my hand tightening around the gun’s handle. “Whoever is responsible for this will pay for it with-”

  “Blood?” Abel asked, shaking his head. “Will they pay with their life, Brother? The way I did?”

  “Stop this!” I said, blinking tears out of my eyes. I needed to get a grip. I needed to not be such a pansy about this. Someone, something was screwing with me. It was using the visage of my brother to mess with my head, to break my heart. But why? Could it be an attempt to get to Merry and Amber? Could it?

  Oh no…

  “Where are they?” I asked swallowing hard. “Where are the others?”

  “The others of the world?” my brother asked me, narrowing eyes I hadn’t really seen in eons. “They’ve grown in number since I departed this place. They are everywhere, Brother. They are everywhere you look. Father would be proud.”

  “Shut up and listen to me!” I said, feeling my body begin to shake. “I will not stand for this. I will not let you wear the face of someone I loved and besmirch their memory. I’ll rip the fucking thing right off.” I shook my head. “And if you have hurt either of those women, I’ll cut you into tiny little pieces.”

  “I must admit,” Abel said. “It would perhaps be quicker than what you did to me the last time.” He bit his bottom lip, and I remembered the way he used to do it in life. When he was nervous, when he was afraid, he would bite his lip. He did it that day. In fact, the last thing I remember before killing him was that he was biting his stupid lip. “Do you remember what I said to you that day, Brother? Do you remember the question I asked you as you reigned the stone down onto me over and over again? They were my last words, Brother? Do they sit in your mind?”

  The memory came upon me like a hammer, pounding at my head with enough force to send me right to the ground. I remembered him under me, looking up at me with watery, red eyes. Blood covered his face. It sopped his hair and left it plastered to his forehead. His nose was broken, his cheeks were cut, and his lips were quivering with fear.

  “Why doesn’t it hurt anymore?” I said weakly, remembering the last words my brother ever spoke to me.

  Thinking about it tore at me like claws. It ripped into my heart and squeezed so tightly I was afraid my soul might come rushing out of me, provided I still had one left to lose.

  He had been so innocent back then. He had been so kind, so good. He didn’t know that death would bring an end to the pain, and neither of us knew we couldn’t come back from it. We were worried about our spiritual wellbeing. It never occurred to us to think about our physical health as well. There was no sickness then, no hurt.

  I might have been the first in this world to take a life, but my brother was the first to lose one. Perhaps he carries that with him too, the way I carry it with me.

  “You do remember,’ Abel said, smiling brightly at me. “As do I. Though, something tells me even that memory, locked in the recesses of your mind, won’t be enough to convince you of my true identity.”

  My eyes flickered down to the body of the man Abel had just confessed to killing. His blood stained the ground just as Abel’s had once. He was a father. He was a widower, and now he was a corpse.

  “You’re in my mind,” I answered defiantly. “That’s the only explanation for this. Somehow, you’re digging around in the back of my head and your pulling out things that would make me believe you’re my brother.” I shook my head bitterly. “But you’re not. My brother would never do something like this. He tended to life. He loved this world and the people in it. He wasn’t like me. He could never be a killer.”

  Abel sighed loudly and watched with almost amused eyes as I held the gun up toward him. It took all I could to keep the barrel steady. Actually holding it at someone who looked like my brother was almost impossible, and it took all I could do to push past the horrified action I was having and do it.

  “You see me through the lens of history, Brother,” he answered, barely registering the gun or the fact that I could very easily shoot him with it. “You look at the person I was and see a saint.”

  “I know my brother!” I said loudly, blinking moisture out of my eyes.

  “Calm down, Callum,” Aria said from right behind me. “I have no idea what the hell is going on here, but I’m sure losing your shit isn’t going to help things.”

  The vampire touched my shoulder, but I pulled away. She might have meant well, but this wasn’t something I needed her for. This was beyond her and what I was comfortable with sharing with her. Even Andy, who I’d known since he was a bump in his mother’s stomach seemed out of place to me here. And he was the closest thing to a family I had in this world.

  Well, unless you count the man standing in front of me now.

  “My brother always had a temper,” Abel said, looking past me at Aria. “But he isn’t going to kill me. Not again.”

  He was right. Though I
hated it and though it might not have actually been him, I couldn’t end the life of someone who looked just like my brother.

  “I will,” Andy said sharply. “I’ll kill you where you stand. Won’t even flinch.”

  “You cannot take life, sir,” Abel answered without turning his attention from me. “You have been resurrected and, as such, cannot access death in the way others might.” He nodded.

  “Then how could you?” I asked, the wheels in my frantic mind turning and trying to make sense of all of this. “You say you’re my brother come back to life, and you also say that a resurrected person can’t take a life. Still, you stand in front of this corpse and tell me you’re responsible for putting it here.”

  Abel looked down at the body and then back up at me. “That is complicated, Brother,” he said.

  “Of course, it is,” I answered, scoffed at the man. “You’re not my brother. You keep screwing with me, and you won’t be anybody’s brother for much longer.” My finger traveled to the trigger, though I was still concerned I wouldn’t be able to actually pull the damn thing. “You better start talking. Where are my friends, and who the hell are you?”

  “The wolf, the mother, the lucky one and the Antichrist never arrived here. Ask your vampire friend. Her senses should be honed enough to pick up on the scent of wolf if it was or had been anywhere near here.”

  “He’s right,” Aria said, whispering behind me.

  “Shut up,” I answered.