More Than Mortal Read online

  More Than Mortal

  by Abbie Zanders

  Copyright © 2019 by Abbie Zanders

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at https://abbiezandersromance.com

  Cover Designer: Clarise Tan, www.ctcovercreations.com/

  Cover Image: Eric David Battershell, www.ericbattershell.com

  Cover Model: Eric Ten Brink

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Teague

  Ceri

  Teague

  Ceri

  Teague

  Ceri

  Edan

  Ceri

  Teague

  Edan

  Ceri

  Edan

  Teague

  Edan

  Xane

  Teague

  Edan

  Teague

  Ceri

  Edan

  Teague

  Tristan

  Teague

  Ceri

  Edan

  Ceri

  Teague

  Ceri

  Edan

  Maggie

  Ceri

  Edan

  Ceri

  Edan

  Ceri

  Tristan

  Xane

  Edan

  Ceri

  Ceri

  Ceri

  Tristan

  Ceri

  Tristan

  Tristan

  Tristan

  Ceri

  Dionys

  Edan

  Ceri

  Dionys

  Epilogue

  Thanks for reading More Than Mortal

  If you liked this book...

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Also by Abbie Zanders

  Teague

  Teague leaned back and scanned the popular nightclub, feeling the stirrings of burgeoning lust and a vague sense of anticipation. His private table in the raised tier VIP section of Orgasmic afforded a perfect view and provided the ability to look down on the masses relegated to the lower levels. The college-age crowd was abuzz with energy, ready to imbibe and shed their inhibitions for an evening of hedonistic revelry. It was nights like these that made the rest of the week bearable.

  He inhaled deeply, drawing in the scents of youth, vanity, and desire. While Teague might look like one of them, he wasn’t. For one thing, he’d been around a lot longer than they had, and for another, he could do things they couldn’t. He knew he was more, but exactly what he was, he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

  “Oh, fuck me,” his companion Crowe murmured beside him, zeroing in on the trio of women headed their way.

  The trio’s tight, low-cut tops, accentuated sway of their hips, and determined look in their eyes told him everything he needed to know.

  “I love you, man. I fucking love you,” Josh added, licking his lips in anticipation.

  Unlike him, Crowe and Josh were typical college students. Their goals for the evening involved getting drunk and getting laid, not necessarily in that order. Both were guaranteed when they hung around Teague, which, of course, was why they did it. He allowed it because, relatively speaking, they were two of the more tolerable sycophants he’d come across. That, and he’d learned the importance of blending in.

  Their eyes followed the women’s approach with barely repressed awe while Teague fought to stifle a yawn. The night would progress just like every other. Females would flock to him, drawn by his unusually good looks and a high concentration of pheromones, anxious to please and be pleased. They’d leave satisfied, and with luck, he’d achieve a mild state of contentment.

  “Hi,” purred the leader, setting down two pitchers of draft on the table in such a way that her ample breasts nearly escaped her low-cut top.

  Her sensuality simmered in waves just above her skin, not unlike the distortion of air atop hot asphalt on a summer day, visible only to his eyes. Apparently, “normal” people couldn’t see and identify the pulsing energies around others, but he could.

  Teague assessed her between one lazy blink and the next. Blonde hair, probably not natural. Big tits, definitely not natural. He pegged her as yet another vapid clone. Hot but wholly uninteresting. Easy. Boring.

  “Ladies,” Crowe greeted smoothly, standing so that two of the women could slide into the large, semicircular booth on Teague’s right side.

  Josh mimicked the action on the left. It was a well-practiced move, one they would probably use several times before the night was over.

  Teague didn’t need to say anything. With a sensual glance and a barely audible, rumbling hum from deep in his throat, the women on either side drew closer—wanting, needing to touch and be touched—while the third hungrily looked on.

  The blonde on the right already had the button on his jeans undone and was reaching into his pants beneath the table. Teague made no move to stop her. The shape of the booth ensured privacy from the back and sides, and the three-foot wall of black-mirrored glass in front of them took care of the rest. Attempting to put a halt to her advances would do no good at this point anyway. She was already too caught up in her own sexual fantasy. She wrapped a perfectly manicured hand around his thickness, her eyes glittering.

  “Yes,” Teague said softly, answering her unspoken request, and it was all the encouragement she needed.

  The girl slipped to her knees beneath the table while her friends looked on with eagerness in the grips of their own sexual urges.

  He turned to each of them, annoyed when their eyes held nothing but lust. He could feel it, swirling around them, an overly sweet, cloying perfume. They didn’t even try to resist. No substance. No fucking dignity. They’d do whatever he asked.

  “Take care of my friends, will you?” he suggested to the other two.

  They didn’t hesitate, slipping down beneath the table, too. Crowe sat back in his seat, letting his head drift back and his eyes close. Josh kept his eyes open and peered beneath the tabletop. He liked to watch.

  “Come here,” Teague murmured a few minutes later.

  The blonde was skilled, bringing him to climax faster than most. Skilled but unremarkable. In five minutes, he wouldn’t even remember she existed. In less than thirty, there would be another in her place.

  The young woman eased back up beside him. Barely a hair was out of place, though the top button of her shorts was undone, as she’d pleasured herself while pleasuring him. It was a common occurrence. Most came at least once or twice without him having to lift a finger.

  Not that he wouldn’t enjoy it, but when he did actively participate, the results could be unpredictable. The last woman he’d had sex with ended up unconscious for more than twelve hours.

  That was not a concern with this one, however. She wore her sexuality like an expensive fur, reveling in blatant admiration and openly inviting others to stroke and touch. As long as he maintained a tight rein of control—second nature to him now—she would experience only pleasure with no adverse side effects.

  Innocents were the only ones he needed to be especially wary of. Those just blossoming into their sexual
awareness. Unfortunately, they were also the ones who stoked his internal fires the most. Raw, untrained sensuality in its purest form was the most potent aphrodisiac of all, he’d found.

  Teague guided the woman’s face toward the crook of his neck, his large hand cupping the back of her head to hold her in place while his other hand slid up her thigh, easing into her shorts with precision and skill. Within seconds, the girl’s strangled cry was muffled against his hotter-than-normal skin, her face a mask of dreamy ecstasy. He closed his eyes and soaked in the energy of her orgasm, an adequate chaser to the BJ she’d just given him.

  He didn’t know why he could do the things he could, but he did know that women—and sometimes men—felt they needed to please him and that the extreme rush that came from their pleasure fueled him. Even his buddies’ orgasms electrified the air around him, made it crackle with life and sensation.

  It was a win-win. Everybody got what they wanted.

  Teague eased the girl to the side, allowing Crowe to pull her the rest of the way into his lap while he took care of the redhead and then the dark blonde when she finished up with Josh. In less than fifteen minutes, the women were sent happily on their way with dreamy smiles and dazed eyes while the guys poured themselves fresh beers from the pitchers they’d left behind.

  “Can you fucking believe it?” Josh mused to no one in particular, shaking his head and smiling.

  “You gotta teach me how to do that,” Crowe said in reverence, looking at Teague as if he were some kind of rock star.

  Teague ignored their blatant hero worship. They were as uninspiring and shallow as the women who flocked to him. Let them think whatever they wanted. Soon, Teague would move to another university, another college town, and they, too, would be lost in a seemingly endless sea of the mundane and unremarkable.

  Ceri

  “Come on, Cer,” Jenn coaxed, grabbing her hand and tugging her forward.

  Casey provided backup, using her athletic build to keep Ceri moving from behind. “At least pretend you’re as shallow as the rest of us.”

  “I don’t think you’re shallow,” Ceri protested over her shoulder. “I’m just not interested in—”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know.” Jenn held up her ID to the big, muscular security guy at the door and then pulled Ceri’s out of her bag as well. “Hot guys and fun aren’t your thing.” Jenn flashed Ceri’s ID, smirking when the bouncer looked at the photo, blinked, and then turned his full attention Ceri’s way.

  Uncomfortable, Ceri offered a weak, shy smile of her own and dropped her gaze.

  Casey adjusted the strap on her form-fitting cami while they waited. “Think of it as an audit,” she suggested.

  “An audit?”

  “Yeah. Just pretend you’re auditing a class on the bizarre mating rituals of the modern-day college student. Take mental notes or something. Jenn and I will quiz you on it later if it makes you feel better.”

  Ceri felt the heat rush into her cheeks. The bouncer stood taller, puffing out his chest.

  “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he offered. “You can sit out here with me.”

  Jenn and Casey exchanged knowing glances while Ceri tried to shrink further into the shadows. They were amused and awed by the phenomenon, what they called the Ceri Effect. For some reason, men seemed to trip over themselves around her, their chivalrous and protective tendencies rising to the surface. Wherever she went, doors were held open, seats were offered, and dropped items were instantly recovered.

  Ceri was at a loss to explain it. She didn’t like the attention, but apparently, her friends did, which was one of the reasons they so often invited her along. Oh, they liked her well enough, but they readily admitted the added male attention was a nice bonus.

  For her part, Ceri would have much preferred a quiet weekend in the halls of the research library to a night of drinking and dancing in a rowdy, upscale college bar.

  The bouncer was looking at her hopefully, waiting for a response to his invitation. Ceri reached out and lightly touched his forearm with her fingertips. His eyes widened at the contact, and then his expression eased.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, “but I’ll be fine.”

  “Why not ask him to let us in for free?” Casey murmured out of the side of her mouth.

  Even as she spoke, the bouncer started to return their money, but Ceri put the bills back in his hand and closed his fingers around it. He beamed at the extended contact.

  “Take a break, Kev,” said a deep voice from behind them.

  Ceri started at the sound and whirled around to find herself face-to-chest with the speaker. She inhaled sharply as she lifted her gaze to find dark auburn hair, strong and masculine features, and rippling muscles beneath the well-fitting black Orgasmic polo. He smiled down at her, amusement dancing in his beautiful, hypnotic green eyes.

  Amusement but not adoration. She liked him instantly.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, that’s two, and we haven’t even made it inside the club yet. Come on,” Jenn prodded, catching Ceri’s wrist and wrenching her forward, “before all the good tables are taken.”

  Sandwiched between the two women, Ceri had no choice but to move forward. She looked back over her shoulder, but the auburn-haired guy was talking to the first bouncer.

  “You have a gift, girlfriend,” Casey commented.

  “Yeah. I mean, men go nuts for you, Cer,” Jenn added. “Letting that guy wave the cover would have made his night. You totally crushed the dude’s feelings.”

  “We got him in trouble, I think,” Ceri said, biting at her lip.

  “Nah. The big guy’s just staking his claim. He wanted a piece of you, too.”

  Not like the others, Ceri thought, looking back over her shoulder again.

  Before she could analyze that further, they passed through the entranceway and into another world. All thoughts of the handsome man were pushed aside as Ceri braced herself for the sensory onslaught. The flashing strobe lights sent a series of quick, sudden stabs through her eyes, the cacophony of music and voices an explosion in her ears. Her stomach roiled at the combined scents of more than a hundred writhing bodies, alcohol, and other things far less pleasant.

  Ceri’s hand automatically reached up to curl around the icy-blue crystal she wore on a thin leather cord around her neck. It responded instantly to her touch, warming against her skin as it drew away some of the excess energy and gathered it in a highly concentrated form.

  Inwardly, Ceri imagined the quiet and solitude of her private sanctuary. The gentle rush of flowing water from the Asian tranquility fountains she had strategically placed throughout. The quiet tinkling of the crystal wind chimes in the fresh, fragrant currents of air from her always-open windows. Thinking of those things brought her peace and allowed her to coexist in a world that felt strangely foreign to her, though it was the only world she had ever known.

  It wasn’t long before she felt the familiar pull deep in her center, the draw on her core energy—what some people referred to as chi. It happened whenever she was in the presence of others, particularly large crowds, which was one of the reasons she preferred solitude over socialization. After even a few hours among people, they felt better, and she would be exhausted, as if they had sucked the very essence from her. If she wasn’t careful about limiting her time in public, she would become so weak that it could take days for her to fully recover.

  Over time, she’d learned some tricks that made limited interaction possible. Open-air spaces, like the student quads and botanical gardens, weren’t nearly as difficult for her as dark, enclosed areas. And anyplace near water—lakesides, beaches, waterfalls—was even better. When neither of those was an option, she resorted to crystals, like the one she gripped now, and ancient meditative techniques to center herself and form temporary shields to block out the worst of it.

  As the crowd surged around them, Ceri wished she hadn’t given in to Jenn and Casey so easily, though they really hadn’t given her much
of a choice. They’d been insistent on including her, even going so far as threatening to follow her home and camping out all weekend if necessary. Ceri had no doubt they would have done it, too. Their auras, normally light purples and pinks, had grown darker, taking on shades of red, indicating their determination.

  That was another unusual “skill” Ceri possessed—the ability to see a person’s mood, to read the inherent personality traits in the ever-present nimbus of varying colors surrounding them. Once she’d learned how to interpret the colors, that ability served her well. Oftentimes, she was able to steer clear of potential trouble. When it was impossible or impractical for her to avoid a situation entirely, she could at least prepare and sidestep in order to minimize potential impact.

  Tonight, it had been very clear that her friends were not going to back down, and Ceri had opted for the path of least resistance. As much as she liked the two women, Ceri could not permit them—or anyone else—to invade her private sanctuary.

  I can do this, she told herself, even as the energy of the crowd pressed down on her.

  She would satisfy whatever bizarre need they had to drag her out among the masses, assuaging the guilt they felt at leaving her behind every weekend even though she repeatedly assured them that she preferred a quiet night in to drinking, dancing, and flirting. They didn’t understand that she was different, and Ceri couldn’t explain it to them because she didn’t understand it herself.

  An hour perhaps, no more. She could maintain her shields for that long. That should be more than enough time to satisfy their Good Samaritan urges, and by then, they would be so engrossed in having a good time that she’d be able to make a quiet exit.

  And so, instead of turning and running out the door like her self-preservation instincts urged, Ceri stepped back against the wall and withdrew into herself. Outwardly, nothing changed. Anyone glancing her way would simply assume she’d paused to let her eyes adjust to the lights. Inwardly, however, she re-absorbed the highly focused energy from her crystal and used it to erect the blocks that would protect her from the sensory onslaught and allow her to pretend to be normal, if only for a little while.