Bonus Epilogue
Isaiah
Thirteen Years Later
There was nothing worse than a Raeth teenager. Despite Isaiah’s lengthy history filled with loneliness, exhaustion, and despair, he had concluded that having a youngling anywhere between the ages of thirteen and nineteen was literal torture.
“You will go,” Isaiah stated plainly to his son. “This is not up for debate.”
“Why? Eve won’t be there.”
“Your mother is, and she’s waiting for us. We are going to Paracel.”
A casual shrug. “No thanks.”
Isaiah turned to fully face his son. Surprisingly, his hard stare didn’t immediately make Isaak cower the way it did his enemies. The brash youngling simply glared back, a challenge burning behind his eyes. There was no weakness in his knees, nor did he look particularly distraught to be facing down a Reaper.
None of Isaiah’s tricks worked on his son, but even when irritation reigned supreme, a part of him adored Isaak’s stubbornness. Immortality was a test of endurance, and the boy would need it in the years to come. Fighting the urge to smirk, Isaiah remained silent.
He would not be the one to look away or give in.
After what felt like eternity—an obscenely long time to an immortal—Isaak curled his lip and grumbled, “Fine. But I’m not being the babysitter this time. I love Aunt Circe’s kid, but I’ve got my own stuff to do.”
Sweet, sweet success.
Resisting the urge to grin, Isaiah teleported them both to Paracel’s great hall. Rukia immediately swathed her teenage son in a bear hug. Though outwardly Isaak grimaced and rolled his eyes, there was no mistaking the love he held for his mother.
When she retreated and ruffled his hair, Isaak made a show of glancing around to look for Eve. An almost belligerent sigh reminded his parents that this was the worst day of his life. Having confirmed his girlfriend wasn’t here, the youngling stalked off presumably in search of Myko or Jeremiah.
Isaak was far more interested in Eve—Nina and Zeke’s daughter—than being to Paracel with his parents. The problem was that she was equally as interested in him.
Two years ago, Jaeda had sensed the mating bond that would eventually develop between the two teens. Zeke, having experienced the disastrous union and subsequent death of his sister centuries before, had been understandably worried about the situation.
Key had given them all peace of mind.
She’d foreseen the bond as well. The foresight had confirmed that neither would bear any ill effects from an early mating. As they were the same age, nothing would complicate matters. It left the teenagers’ parents with no real reason to deny the relationship, much to the humor of everyone else.
Isaiah greeted his mate with a kiss. “Your son will be the death of me. He grows bolder by the day.”
“Takes after his father, then. Can’t say I’m sad about that.”
The pair of them walked into the conference room near the offices, their linked hands swinging slightly between them. On the way, Rukia gave him the rundown of the latest disaster to cross their desks.
Over the last decade, the Search and Rescue operation had ballooned. Their requests for assistance had skyrocketed when the world had discovered that Elementals could help control mother nature. Isaiah, now deemed one of their official ‘Teleport Taxi’s,’ simply followed Rukia’s direction. It gave him a sense of purpose—even though he continued to sneer for appearance’s sake.
It’d taken him nearly a decade to fully recover from his brush with death. The psychic shock after the Citizens battle had slowly dissipated, and the physical ailments had lessened as the years drew on. While he still occasionally experienced a slowly-refilling psychic well, he was more or less back to normal.
His palms remained sooty black—the same color as the clan mark sprawled across his chest. He doubted it would ever go away.
Nina and Key had taken slightly longer to feel up to fighting weight. Though they never spoke about that night, the three of them would always be united in a unique camaraderie. It was an odd thing to sign up for one’s death alongside two other people.
All Isaiah knew was that he was here—alive—and he would never take that for granted.
Squeezing Rukia’s hand, he opened the war room door for her, and they joined the others. Gideon, standing at the head of the table, was conferring with Circe. The pair were pointing out positions on the map, heads together and deep in conversation.
Remmus, tugging Ava along with him, entered the room behind them. The blond-haired Raeth looked up from where a phone was clutched in his hand.
“Jeremiah, they’re predicting another series of tornadoes in Oklahoma,” Remmus said. “You game to ‘port down there should they become a problem?”
“Of course.” The wind Elemental smirked. “Bringing out the big guns.”
As expected, Rukia smacked his shoulder.
Remmus and Ava had joined the Paracel Search and Rescue team alongside Lucius and Circe several years ago. The technopath was exceptionally handy to have on hand, and Circe’s ability to find people who might’ve been buried or injured was extraordinarily helpful in times of trouble.
While it hadn’t always been easy, making their existence known to the humans had had an overwhelmingly positive reception. A myriad of organizations popped up in the aftermath of their reveal. Those groups, focused on cross-cultural integration and collaboration, had further aided in the effort.
Immortals no longer had to hide behind a veil of secrecy. Their gifts could be used to better the world at large or allow them to fade into the background. Vampires had begun teaching history at universities, Raeths had started businesses offering teleportation, and werewolves— hilariously —had created a wildly successful ‘Run with The Pack’ program.
Perhaps most important was that Elementals had begun saving lives from wildfires, tornadoes, floods, and earthquakes. Raeth healers cured cancers and Arbiters found human soulmates. Vampires used their blood in emergency rooms to heal those who would’ve died otherwise.
They no longer had to hide how they helped humanity.
What Key had foreseen—terror, extermination, enslavement—hadn’t happened. Instead, her visions had shaped Isaiah’s life in the same way she’d shaped them all. As a direct result of the foreseer’s work, he’d found his mate and become a father. Every immortal around this table owed their lives to her.
Thirteen years after the final battle with the Citizens , the fourteen couples that’d been part of Key’s original group had fallen into an unparalleled camaraderie. Their lives had interconnected, crisscrossed, and linked, weaving them together in a way that could never be unraveled.
Every single one of them had been imperative to this future—the one where they lived. Thrived. While each immortal had begun this journey alone, none of them would walk into the future that way.