Cara MIA - By Book One of the Immortyl Revolution - By Denise Verrico Page 0,48

gracefully against a column with folded arms over his chest. “She’s sparred with Gaius.”

“The old Wolf? She is bold. She knows about that lot?”

“I enlightened her.”

“What do you think of him, Mia?”

I made a face. “Not much.”

They laughed.

“If her wits match her audacity, you may have something here.”

“Had her wings singed the first time, now she plays him cool and slow.”

“Ethan won’t take me to meet his women.”

Philip sat up, running his hand through his curls. “Oh my dear, you can’t be serious? They aren’t women. They aren’t anything resembling women.” A slow hungry smile appeared on his face. “Well, some parts of ‘em… ”

I challenged him. “And I suppose you aren’t men anymore?”

“In Philip’s case the jury was decided before it convened,” Ethan said, dryly.

“Your slights on my manhood aren’t to be borne.”

“So if I am an Immortyl, I’m no longer a woman?”

Philip looked at me closely, clearing his throat. “There are certain qualities one considers desirable in your sex.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you Philip,” Ethan said, shaking his head.

“Such as?” I insisted.

Philip cast about for an answer, a look of adorable bewilderment on his face.

“Get out of this one, I dare you.”

“You’ve tampered with her mind!”

Ethan laughed, crossing to the bench where I sat and pulling me to my feet. “I assure you she came this way— a new breed, that sees the feminine frills for what they are, useful weapons. I’m her helpless victim.”

“Bullshit!” I broke away and looked out on the bay. The moon was high and full, the waters calm and black along the ribbon of light. I climbed up and walked along the narrow marble balustrade in the manner of a tightrope walker, gracefully maintaining my balance with outstretched arms.

Philip said slowly, “Di-a-bolical.”

“Enlighten me,” I begged.

“You’ve been enlightened far too much. I fear for us all.”

Ethan snatched me up, lifting me high in the air like a ballet dancer. I made an arabesque to show off. “Behold my bird of prey. She’ll topple the idols and see them fall.”

I burst out laughing. “Stop! Ethan has delusions of grandeur. He got this idea from seeing me in that Ibsen play, and gets a thrill from loosing me on mortal men.”

Ethan set me down. “She’s being modest. You should see the gleam in her eye when she kills.”

Philip put his arm around me, whispering in a conspiratorial tone, “Come now Mia, we’re family here. You’re a daughter of the blood. It’s proper for you to be proud of your accomplishments.”

I broke away from him. “You two act as if it’s my drawing we’re talking about.”

“Your drawing is abysmal.” Ethan laughed. I looked at him indignantly. It was a joke; still, I didn’t feel any better about it. Ethan’s jibes always disguised an element of truth and they stung. “She’s getting riled up, look at her eyes, pure fury.”

“I hate when you do this,” I sputtered, heading for house.

Philip laughed as Ethan caught my arm, pulling me to him. “Our world must change— we’ve outgrown the ways of the ancients and must take our place in the world at large. Science will release us from our bondage and we’ll become the supermen we’re destined to be.”

I gasped. “You’re crazy!”

“He’s a visionary and they’re often madmen,” Philip commented. “Well, I suppose we must tell her now.”

Ethan held me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes. “Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to men. So shall we.”

He couldn’t be serious? Did he propose that we give immortality to all men? I looked into his frosty eyes and saw he was firm in his purpose. I’d always suspected the mission in his teaching. Didn’t he see the horror of this? “Ethan, we’re made up of degenerates and beasts. You’ve often told me so yourself. If we seize power we have no right to it will be disaster. Besides, you don’t think much of humanity either.”

He calmly took a seat in a carved stone chair. “There are some who have potential to be a god among men.”

“And who’ll decide this? Is one person better than another?”

“The best will shine forth like the stars.”

“The worst also have the habit of glittering in our eyes,” I muttered.

“You’ll be part of this work, Mia.”

Philip ushered me away, holding his arm protectively around my shoulders. “Don’t take his raving seriously. He’s been expounding his anarchy for a century. It’s one of his charming quirks of personality. He keeps me around to deflate his pomposity. You’re frightening the child, Marlovian monster.” Philip