Dark Secrets Resurgence (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Series Book 44)
Dark Secrets Resurgence
The Children Of The Gods Book 44
I. T. Lucas
Also by I. T. Lucas
THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS ORIGINS
1: Goddess’s Choice
2: Goddess’s Hope
THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS
Dark Stranger
1: Dark Stranger The Dream
2: Dark Stranger Revealed
3: Dark Stranger Immortal
Dark Enemy
4: Dark Enemy Taken
5: Dark Enemy Captive
6: Dark Enemy Redeemed
Kri & Michael’s Story
6.5: My Dark Amazon
Dark Warrior
7: Dark Warrior Mine
8: Dark Warrior’s Promise
9: Dark Warrior’s Destiny
10: Dark Warrior’s Legacy
Dark Guardian
11: Dark Guardian Found
12: Dark Guardian Craved
13: Dark Guardian’s Mate
Dark Angel
14: Dark Angel's Obsession
15: Dark Angel's Seduction
16: Dark Angel's Surrender
Dark Operative
17: Dark Operative: A Shadow of Death
18: Dark Operative: A Glimmer of Hope
19: Dark Operative: The Dawn of Love
Dark Survivor
20: Dark Survivor Awakened
21: Dark Survivor Echoes of Love
22: Dark Survivor Reunited
Dark Widow
23: Dark Widow’s Secret
24: Dark Widow’s Curse
25: Dark Widow’s Blessing
Dark Dream
26: Dark Dream’s Temptation
27: Dark Dream’s Unraveling
28: Dark Dream’s Trap
Dark Prince
29: Dark Prince’s Enigma
30: Dark Prince’s Dilemma
31: Dark Prince’s Agenda
Dark Queen
32: Dark Queen’s Quest
33: Dark Queen’s Knight
34: Dark Queen’s Army
Dark Spy
35: Dark Spy Conscripted
36: Dark Spy’s Mission
37: Dark Spy’s Resolution
Dark Overlord
38: Dark Overlord New Horizon
39: Dark Overlord’s Wife
40: Dark Overlord’s Clan
Dark Choices
41: Dark Choices The Quandary
42: Dark Choices Paradigm Shift
43: Dark Choices The Accord
Dark Secrets
44: Dark Secrets Resurgence
45: Dark Secrets Unveiled
PERFECT MATCH
Perfect Match 1: Vampire’s Consort
Perfect Match 2: King’s Chosen
Perfect Match 3: Captain’s Conquest
SETS
The Children of the Gods books 1-3: Dark Stranger trilogy—Includes a bonus short story: The Fates take a Vacation
The Children of the Gods books 4-6: Dark Enemy Trilogy —Includes a bonus short story—The Fates' Post-Wedding Celebration
The Children of the Gods: Books 1-6—includes character lists
The Children of the Gods: Books 6.5-10—includes character lists
TRY THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS SERIES ON
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Copyright © 2020 by I. T. Lucas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Dark Secrets Resurgence is a work of fiction!
Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations and/or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
1. David
2. Kian
3. Sari
4. Kalugal
5. David
6. Kalugal
7. David
8. Richard
9. Vlad
10. Stella
11. Eleanor
12. Syssi
13. David
14. Kalugal
15. Kian
16. David
17. Kian
18. David
19. Sari
20. David
21. Sari
22. Kalugal
23. David
24. Sari
25. David
26. Kian
27. David
28. Sari
29. David
30. Sari
31. David
32. Sari
33. David
34. Sari
35. David
36. Sari
37. David
38. Richard
39. Stella
40. Sari
41. David
42. Eleanor
43. Kian
44. Eleanor
45. David
46. Sari
47. David
48. Sari
49. David
50. Sari
51. David
52. Sari
53. David
54. Sari
55. David
56. Sari
57. David
58. Kalugal
59. Sari
60. David
61. Sari
62. David
63. Sari
64. David
65. Sari
66. David
67. Sari
68. David
69. Sari
The Children of the Gods Series
The Perfect Match Series
FOR EXCLUSIVE PEEKS
1
David
“This is crap.” David slumped in his chair.
If the manuscript had been written on paper, he would at least have the pleasure of crumpling the page and tossing it into the trash basket. But since it was digital, the only thing he could do was press delete.
Not nearly as satisfying.
The dialogue sounded stilted, and the long paragraphs of narrative read more like an academic paper than a fiction story.
Eight years had passed since he’d written and published his first and only science fiction novel, and he was obviously out of practice. The numerous papers he’d published since had all been well written, in part thanks to the skill he’d developed while working on that novel, but regrettably the effect was more harmful than helpful in the other direction.
The crisp and clear writing style he’d adopted had helped his papers get accepted into prestigious publications like The American Journal of Psychiatry and many others, but it didn’t lend itself to storytelling.
With a sigh, David deleted the chapter, closed his eyes, and imagined the conversation taking place in a movie. The characters were discussing the two-caste system their highly-regimented society was based on, and the challenge was making them sound like real people but still alien.
Perhaps he could model them on some of his British colleagues? Or maybe the Swedes?
Heinz Fransson was a hoot. His friend’s offbeat humor could liven up the stiff dialogue. Or maybe he could use Karen Shaffer as a model? Except the conversation was between two men. Besides, Karen’s humor was not the kind that l
ent itself to a book he hoped to market to young adults.
The publisher’s editor would cut it out.
He was just starting to get into the role play in his head when his cell phone rang. Irritated, David opened his eyes and glanced at the display.
The number on the screen was unknown, but he was used to getting calls from strangers, professors and post-docs asking for permission to use his research data or wishing to collaborate with him on a paper.
He answered in his professional tone. “This is Professor Levinson.”
“Hello, David. This is Kajeck Zolotovsky. We’ve met a couple of times to discuss your research on post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Oh, yes. I remember. How can I help you?”
It had been more than two years ago, but he remembered the Russian well. The guy had an incredibly sharp mind for someone with no formal education, and Zolotovsky had paid generously for David’s time.
“I apologize for calling you on your private line, but I called your office first and was told that you are on a sabbatical. The department’s secretary was kind enough to provide me with your cell number.”
“That’s okay. I’m always glad to hear from you, Mr. Zolotovsky.”
Tori shouldn’t have given his number out without consulting with him first, but in this case, David didn’t mind. If Zolotovsky wanted to have another two-hour talk with him in exchange for six thousand dollars in cash, he would gladly oblige him.
David’s pay during the sabbatical was reduced, and the extra money would come in handy.
Sadly, the novel he was working on wouldn’t bring in much as far as royalties were concerned, if at all. The prestige of being a Stanford professor and having written a novel before might help him get published again, and he might even get a nice advance from the publisher, but that was as much as he could expect. His first novel had been a moderate success, and he’d made close to fifteen thousand with it, which was not bad given that most writers didn’t make even a fraction of that. But it wasn’t nearly enough to justify the two years of sleep deprivation.
Except, David wrote science fiction not for financial gain but because he needed an outlet for his interests and ideas. Specifically, those he couldn’t address officially without becoming the laughingstock of the department, or worse, getting fired.
In academia, only a handful of brave souls dared to tackle controversial topics like memories of past lives and near-death experiences, and he wasn’t one of them.
Not officially.
His close friends knew about his fascination with the subjects, and he was okay with that, but he was never going to publish a paper about either topic or include them in his lectures when he returned to teaching.
“Are you spending your sabbatical here in the States or abroad?” Zolotovsky asked.
“This time, I opted not to accept a guest position abroad. I’m staying right here and using the sabbatical to write a novel. The idea for this story has been brewing in my head for the past seven years, and now I finally have time to sit down and write it.”
“A most worthy undertaking. I wish you the best of luck with it.”
“Thank you.”
“A sabbatical is also a good time to spend with the family. Do you have children, Professor Levinson?”
That was an oddly personal question.
During their prior conversations, Zolotovsky had only been interested in discussing David’s research. He hadn’t volunteered any personal details about himself and hadn’t asked for any in return.
Perhaps the reason for the inquiry was that Kajeck wanted to meet again. The other times they had talked it had been at David’s office in the university, but now that he was on a sabbatical, he would need to invite the Russian to his home, which could have been a problem if there was a bunch of children running around.
Regrettably, that wasn’t the case.
“I’m not married, and I don’t have children. My house is free of distractions.”
Kajeck chuckled. “Except for pesky admirers, I’m sure.”
Damn. David was well aware of his reputation as a womanizer, which was not entirely fabricated, but it was no doubt exaggerated. Still, it was surprising that someone outside of the university had heard the rumors.
It was flattering to be called the hottest professor on campus, but it was also a little embarrassing. He’d rather be called the best teacher, or the most brilliant researcher, but regrettably he was neither.
Still, he wasn’t breaking any laws.
David never hooked up with his own students. That would have been incredibly stupid and would have gotten him fired. But students who didn’t attend his lectures were not off-limits.
Besides, he’d never been the pursuer, he’d been pursued, and quite relentlessly. None of the ladies could claim that he’d seduced them or enticed them into his bed with anything other than his good looks.
David was a relatively young professor, single, and he was a handsome man if he said so himself. Fake modesty had never been his thing, and his good looks were not just the result of good genetics. His athletic physique took a lot of work. He was still rowing in Redwood Creek almost every morning, bicycling around the Stanford sprawling campus, and lifting weights regularly, either in the university’s gym or at home.
His admirers were not limited to faculty and students either. His Instagram profile picture drew a large, mostly female following, and David was sure that not all of them were fascinated by the factoids he was posting about psychology and psychiatry.
Shifting in his chair, he switched the phone to his other ear. “The rumors you must have heard are vastly exaggerated.”
Kajeck snorted. “I was referring to myself. As you know, I am a great admirer of your work. Would it be possible for us to have another lovely talk? Naturally, it will be at the same rate we have agreed upon previously.”
“Gladly. I look forward to it.”
2
Kian
“What do you think?” Kian waved his arm around.
He was trying to figure out how to maximize seats in the new dining room once it was finished. Pushing the side wall out added square footage but not in the right direction. Instead of growing lengthwise, it grew widthwise, and a wider dining table wasn’t going to add a significant number of chairs. They would be able to accommodate two more on each side, but that was not nearly enough for the large dinner parties Syssi had in mind.
“Looks good,” Anandur said. “But watch your step. There are nails everywhere. These guys are not very tidy.”
One of the Chinese construction workers cast him a baleful glare as if he understood the comment. Other than the supervisor, none of the men were supposed to know English, but Kian had noticed them listening in on several occasions, so he assumed that it wasn’t entirely true. They must have understood it at least to some degree.
Feeling uncomfortable about the crew working inside the village, he’d had a chain-link fence installed around the house, and it was also covered in tarps. Officially, it had been done to prevent construction dust from getting into the greenery and the adjoining houses, but the real reason was to keep the crew contained and the village protected from their prying eyes.
To that effect, he’d also convinced Syssi to temporarily move into the house Annani had stayed in during her last visit. The other reason was that the noise and dust were not good for the baby.
“How big is the new dining room going to be?” Anandur asked.
Kian grimaced. “Not big enough. I’m starting to agree with Kalugal that we need a larger house. Syssi wants to host family get-togethers, and even the new and enlarged dining room is not going to accommodate more than sixteen people comfortably. We might be able to squeeze in twenty, but that would be a stretch.”
“What’s the alternative?” Anandur followed him out to the walkway. “There is no more room in this part of the village to build a new house.”
Brundar glanced at the next house over. “You c
ould demolish this one and yours and build one big house on both plots.” He closed the chain-link gate behind them.
The idea had occurred to Kian, but he’d dismissed it. “That would be tremendously wasteful. These houses are brand new.”
“What other option is there?” Anandur snorted. “Do you want to build a castle for you and Syssi next to Kalugal and Jacki’s?”
Given the need for camouflage, the fanciful castle idea had been impractical, and Kalugal had wisely discarded it. Instead, he was building a large and luxurious home, but most of its square footage was going to be underground.
“I was thinking about the eastern slope.” Kian turned and pointed. “Since Kalugal is paying us top dollar for building his section of the village, and the contractor is already bringing more crews, we can use the money to develop more plots over there.”
Anandur shook his head. “It’s too far from the village center. Besides it being a security issue, you also need to think about the distance to the village square and the entry pavilion. For you, the extra ten-minute walk will not be a problem, but as Syssi’s pregnancy progresses, it’s going to be difficult for her.”