The Seventh Immortal (Hearts of Amaranth #1)

By J.M. Parry

A woman awakens in a hospital room with no memory of how she got there, except that she tried to kill herself. The staff is keeping her medicated--too medicated--at the behest of a mysterious man she is certain is no doctor.

Her name is Kait Selias, and she quickly learns why her suicide attempt failed: she cannot die. She is an immortal, and her appearance has sparked the interest of every powerful man and woman in the city of St. Louis.

With the help of a handsome doctor, Kait escapes the hospital and tries to piece together the mystery of her existence while evading the forces that seek to capture her. She discovers that her immortality is not the only thing that separates her from the rest of humanity. Her voice possesses the powerful ability to compel others to do her will, and her enhanced senses threaten to overwhelm her with desire.

Who is Kait Selias? More important, what is she? In the first installment of the Hearts of Amaranth series, Kait struggles to understand her place in a world she cannot remember and she comes face to face with the Gospels, six shadowy and seductive figures who control the city of St. Louis. The Gospels may be the key to her identity, but they have plans of their own for Kait Selias.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.M. Parry
• Release date: May 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301757114

Book preview

The Seventh Immortal

Hearts of Amaranth #1

by J. M. Parry

Copyright 2013

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Published by J.M. Parry on Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

The woman was close. She was so close that she could feel the cold embrace of oblivion. It was just within reach, as if she could push a little more and put her fingertips against the end of everything. Something pulled her back. It washed over her and pushed her away from annihilation. She fought against it. Struggled against it with all her might. No matter how she tried, her strength wasn't enough.

For most people, life is like a river. It flows in one direction, from birth to an inevitable end. Everyone fights against the current, clinging to life. The woman's river flowed backwards, away from death and towards some unknown purpose. She was swimming as hard as she could to destroy herself.

As the woman fought against the forces dragging her away from death, she realized that she didn't know why she was struggling. Even then, in the first moments she would remember for the rest of her unnatural life, she knew that victory meant death. And she couldn't recall why she wanted to die. Her memories were gone. She was a new person now. The old one, the one who wanted to disappear, had made it to the void that she couldn't quite reach.

The woman stopped fighting. And that is when she opened her eyes.

Chapter One

White ceiling tiles. A plastic, pastel blue curtain. Low, steady beeping. A dull pain in her arm. A clammy feeling across her body. The world returned to the woman as soon as quickly as she returned to it. She instantly became aware of her surroundings.

She was in a hospital room. This made sense to her, even in her confusion. She had died, or come very close to it. This was where she made her recovery. She tried to sit up in her bed, but found her body almost completely unresponsive. Her arms wouldn't move. Her legs would barely twitch. Something was wrong. Was she paralyzed? She could still feel the rough sheets against her skin. No... She was drugged.

Who are you? A deep voice asked. She wasn't alone. There was someone else in the room with her.

A man sat cross-legged in a chair across from her hospital bed. He was lean, and wore a pressed three piece suit that seemed perfectly cut to his frame. His hazel eyes peered at the woman from behind wireframe spectacles.

Who are you? he repeated as soon as she began to wake. The woman tried to speak but her mouth was too dry. Once more, she pressed her arms against the bed to push herself upwards. This time, she felt the strength beginning to return to her limbs.

The man realized that she was moving and quickly stood up. He walked over to the machine next to her—the one that was beeping—and pressed a button. Before the woman could move again, she began to feel her strength fading.

He was drugging her. He was keeping her unconscious.

I'm sorry, the man said. His voice was smooth and steady. It comforted the woman even though she knew what he was doing to her. We can't have you wake up just yet. We still don't know what we are going to do with you.

Her eyes began to droop. Everything went dark again, though this time there was no annihilation to strive towards. She was not dying. She was merely sleeping.

The woman did not know how long she was unconscious. Time passed strangely for her, as she still had very little concept of it. The drugs rushing through her body hardly left her with the faculties to keep track of the minutes and hours as they ticked by.

Once again, she felt herself pulled back into the world. The sensation returned to her skin. Light poured into the slit between her eyelids and she was able to peel back the darkness. Everything was bright. Everything was loud. And, just like before, the woman was not alone in her room.

C'mon... C'mon, hurry up! Wake up! I don't know how long we have.

The woman blinked back the sleep in her eyes and looked over, expecting to see the same man as before. She was relieved to find someone new—someone who looked like he belonged in a hospital.

His hands brushed her arm, then gripped the IV attached to her vein.

She looked up at him, still in a daze, straining to study him through her blurred vision. Was he a friend or foe? She had no idea. She didn’t know anything anymore. She forced a word from her throat and out of her mouth, the only one she could manage at first. Please...

Don’t worry. I’m here to help. His voice was low and firm but resonant with compassion. His figure came slowly into focus. He wore light blue scrubs over a broad-shouldered body with rich olive skin. The collar of the scrubs ran low enough to reveal the muscles of his chest, rippling as he reached down to grip her, but there was a tenderness to his touch, or perhaps hesitancy. Again, she wondered what this man planned to do with her, and fear shot briefly through her belly. But as soon as she stared into his bright green eyes, she knew she could trust him. He looked back at her with a mixture of awe and reverence, his gaze searching hers with equal intensity.

It worked. You’re awake, he said. Gently, he pulled the IV needle from her arm. For a moment, the world seemed to spin. Then his hand returned quickly to her body, reassuring, stabilizing. She fixed her gaze on him again, like an anchor holding her in place. His bright green eyes contrasted so beautifully with his olive skin and dark, messy hair. As she felt her control of her body returning to her, she found herself smiling at him. But he seemed hesitant to smile back. "Now, can