Son of Saints: A Dark YA Fantasy Adventure: Renegade Guardians: Book Two

by Kyra Quinn

  The women made a sharp left turn down an alleyway. Their auras flickered into view seconds before they disappeared. A soft sky-blue glow highlighted their silhouettes. Seth hadn’t had time to teach me what the various colors meant, but for my purposes it didn’t much matter. If an aura appeared, the person in question had magic in their blood.

  Halfway into the alley, the women stopped. They whirled on their heels and turned on me with fire in their eyes. The taller woman took a step towards me and narrowed her hazel eyes, her index finger pointed at my chest.

  “Why are you following us?” she demanded, her voice shrill enough to hurt my ears. “What do you want?”

  I froze, my tongue heavy in my mouth. Hundreds of people strolled down the streets of Carramar around us. How had they detected my presence?

  “It doesn’t matter,” the other woman said, sounding bored. “Kill her and let’s move on with our day.”

  “Easy, sister. Give the girl a chance to explain herself.”

  I hesitated, wrapping my arms around my waist. The three of us stood alone in the empty alleyway, tucked far enough back to avoid the wandering eyes of the other pedestrians and carriages. It would only take a few seconds to drain enough of their essence for them to black out like the woman from the tavern…

  “My apologies,” I said, my voice stiff. “I must have gotten lost in my thoughts and missed my turn.”

  The taller woman arched a bushy brow. “That doesn’t answer why you followed us into this alleyway.”

  I blinked and rubbed the back of my neck. My thoughts raced. Could I drain them both at once? What would I do if they screamed or told someone once they awakened?

  I sucked in a breath and steeled myself for what had to happen next. My feet locked into the soil beneath my boots. I rolled my neck until a satisfying crack of bones echoed from the brick walls surrounding us. When I lifted my head and locked eyes with the high-pitched harpie, her eyes flashed with fear.

  “These powers are still new to me,” I said.

  “What—”

  I slammed my palm against her forehead before she could finish, hopeful the physical contact would speed up the process. Her body trembled, but I tightened my grip around her arm and held her in place. Her flesh heated beneath my touch as her eyes rolled back in her head. An off-white foam dripped from her open mouth and down her shirt. Blood leaked from her nose and the corners of her eyes. I released my grip from her dead body and hurled her against the wall of the alley. The other girl opened her mouth to scream.

  The cry never made it past her lips. With her companion’s magiya boosting my powers, the feed came as effortlessly as breathing. By the time I’d finished the second girl off, every inch of my body vibrated with energy. I felt strong enough to take on Daeva alone with my hands bound behind my back. If anyone trifled with me, I’d tear their hearts out with my teeth and spit their own blood into their faces as they died.

  This isn’t you. You are not a killer.

  But the bodies behind me told a different tale. Seth had shown me how to stop a feed before I drained the victim’s life. Yet I hadn’t put forth a speck of effort to restrain myself. I hadn’t wanted to.

  Worse, as I stood shaking in the alleyway and waited for the remorse to strike, nothing came. I had no empathy for the women at my feet, their eyes glassy and empty as they stared up towards the afternoon sun. They deserved the fate I gave them. Death was a just reward for their loose lips.

  I had to run. I couldn’t afford for anyone to find me hovering over the bodies. It felt wrong to abandon them in an alleyway for the insects to nibble at, but I didn’t have a choice. Not unless I wanted to find myself branded a murderer.

  I scurried out of the alley in search of the dust den. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to race down the crowded streets and away from the scene of my mistake as fast as possible. No blood covered my hands or clothing. Even if someone discovered the bodies, no one had a reason to suspect a baby-faced eighteen-year-old girl unless I gave them one. What I lacked in combat skill I more than made up for in theatrical talents. I had spent my entire childhood playing the part of the dutiful daughter and concealing the darkness festering inside of me.

  Smoke trailed from my lips with each breath, but I no longer noticed the chill. Seth had asked for an hour before we met at the dust den. It had sounded reasonable enough, but I also hadn’t intended to murder anyone on our brief trip into town.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Love and War

  Ludas is a quiet god, happy to witness the fruits of his labor from a distance rather than personally meddle in the affairs of mortals.

  -The Sacred Texts, 43:27

  “Sweet shadows, that’s a lot of blood.”

  Morrigan’s eyebrows rose as Aster staggered into the house carrying a glass pitcher filled with thick crimson blood. She didn’t recoil or flinch, but her face drained of color. The size of her eyes suggested she had questions.

  Aster shrugged. “We have a lot of magic to perform while Lili and the others are away. I didn’t want to run out before we finished, so I thought it best to grab a little more than we needed.”

  “I see.” Morrigan frowned, her eyes still on the pitcher in Aster’s hands. “And what is it we’re doing today?”

  “We need to figure out a way to limit the amount of damage Seth can do within these walls. He’s a sweet kid who means well, but he feeds on emotions and dramatics. We must do what we can to prevent him from stirring that up here and spiraling our team into chaos. We also need more wards, and I’m hoping to have enough left over to enchant some of our weapons.”

  Morrigan pressed her lips into a pout. “You have enough planned to distract us for hours. I’d hoped we might get to spend a bit of time together while everyone is away.”

  Aster hesitated. She enjoyed Morrigan’s company as much as anyone else’s, but the last few days had left her drained and numb. She didn’t have the energy to force smiles and pretend to still have love to offer. She hadn’t slept since her visit with Madre.

  “I told Remiel and Lili I’d have this done before they came back,” she said, her voice tight. “The war is close.”

  The light in Morrigan’s eyes died, but she forced a smile. “Of course. We have the rest of forever to spend together after this is over.”

  Aster almost choked on her own saliva. Forever? Most days, Aster had no idea what she wanted a week in the future, let alone the rest of her life. But she couldn’t bring herself to destroy Morrigan’s hopes twice in one conversation.

  Aster reached forward and squeezed her lover’s hand. “That’s what this is for. To ensure we have a future.”

  Morrigan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can handle the wards if you want to dig through your books upstairs and figure out what to do about the vampire.”

  Aster’s chest swelled with gratitude. Wards didn’t take much talent, but she’d always found them time-consuming and tedious. As far as Aster was concerned, Seth’s potential for internal chaos posed as great of a threat as the angels or demons. Morrigan’s help would save her hours of work and an irritating crick in her neck by the end of it all.

  “I can rub your shoulders after,” Aster said, dropping her voice into a low purr.

  Morrigan laughed. “I’m sure I’ll need it when I finish. What do you have in mind to deal with Seth?”

  Aster had no better idea what to do about Seth—and Lili, though she’d never admit it aloud—than she did the war to come. Seth struck her as strong, but Lili’s abilities transcend any magic she’d practiced. She chewed the inside of her cheek and mulled the question over, but no spell came to mind for such disturbances.

  “His talents have proven useful before, but he must feed to maintain his energy levels. Trying to stop him would both weaken our team and hurt our new ally. But we must temper his urges while he’s here. Let him find some strangers to feed from.”

  Morrigan tapped her chin. “Maybe the solution is
simpler than we think. Something less magical.”

  Aster raised a brow. “How so?”

  “Seth is an animi, but he has thoughts and feelings like anyone else. What if we sat him down and had a conversation about our concerns and the importance of hunting his meals down elsewhere? A few ground rules, if you will.”

  Aster had considered the idea herself earlier but dismissed it as too insulting. Seth had risked his life to save Viktor and asked nothing in return. He’d left his home behind and followed Aster around Astryae without a single request of his own.

  “I don’t want him to feel singled out or not trusted. From the time we’ve shared, Seth is a wonderful creature and we are lucky he joined us. But we must take precautions to ensure the safety of our team.”

  Morrigan shook her head. “If Seth’s powers work the way I think, none of your barrier spells or charms will work. He doesn’t use magic to feed, so there is no magic to block. How much help does anyone need to get a group full of people to find a reason to bicker?”

  A heaviness settled into the center of Aster’s chest. “What if I cast an uplifting aura over the house? Would it ward off his tricks?”

  “Only if your spells affect the undead. I’d wager it won’t, though. What is the harm in talking to him, Aster? Express how much his presence here means to you. Ask if he can agree not to stir up controversy between anyone here. It isn’t complicated.”

  Aster snorted. For her, maybe. But what did Morrigan know about complicated situations? The eldest daughter of an infamous High Mage in the coven, her success in life had come assured with her birth. Her father’s high rank within the coven granted her access to anything her little heart desired, free from any of the pressure or responsibility Aster and Chay had grown up under. While some mages spent their entire lives in the Grove, Morrigan came and went as she pleased with no need for explanation or apology. Where Aster had spent most of her life fighting for what she wanted, Morrigan had it offered up to her if she pouted enough.

  “We still need a backup plan. Give me time to dig through the texts.”

  Morrigan sighed, the sound both disappointed and frustrated. “This is why so much of your soul is gone. Magic has a price, Aster. A price we can’t afford to pay.”

  “We also can’t afford for me to sit and watch everyone else save the world,” Aster muttered. “Or allow some unexpected hiccup to send our plans to shit. Focus on the wards, love. I’ll handle the rest.”

  Morrigan reached for the pitcher of blood, her eyes fixed on the ground between them. “I worry about you. About all of us. Madre does what she can to protect us, but blood magic is corrosive. Every spell we cast gives Daeva a sliver of our soul.”

  The same worries had once plagued Aster’s mind for weeks on end. She had questioned Madre for weeks about why the gods forced blood mages to pay for power when other Feyfolk’s powers came as effortlessly as blinking.

  But she didn’t have time for Morrigan’s existential crisis with so much happening around them. She shook her head and said, “Life is rarely fair for anyone. But most still prefer it to the alternative. Meet me in the kitchen. We can discuss this over a glass of wine.”

  She didn’t wait for Morrigan to respond. She spun on her heel and sped out of the room, forcing herself to disregard the weight pressing against the center of her chest. Morrigan deserved better. Someone who loved and cherished her and protected her from danger. She deserved everything Aster did not understand how to offer anyone.

  The others returned soon after Aster opened the bottle of wine. Everyone soon sat squished around her small wooden table. They drank until a second bottle of wine ran dry, the conversation moving from light-hearted chatter into heated discussions of strategy within minutes. The longer they bickered, the more Aster wished she had Viktor nearby to back her up.

  She leaned back in her chair and scowled, folding her arms over her chest. “Have you lost what little sense you had? That is the single stupidest thing you have said since we met.”

  “Why do you refuse to take my word on this? I have spent more time in the Shadowrealm.” Remiel slapped his palm against the table with a thud. “I know Daeva and Zanox better than anyone in this room.” “Which only lends a bias to your perspective,” Aster said. “Anyone in their right mind can tell you what a terrible idea it is to consort with demons.”

  “No one is suggesting we befriend them,” he argued. “Only focus more on the army of angels determined to destroy us.”

  “Because the demons are so different?”

  “They need Astryae to survive as much as we do.”

  “Only so they can use our souls for their own personal gain,” Seth pointed out. “Not especially altruistic of them.”

  Morrigan chewed her nails. She had said little since the debate broke out around the table. She and Lili wore identical open mouths and wide eyes. Aster had her own opinions on trusting Daeva or Zanox, but Remiel refused to budge.

  The debate had carried on since the moment Remiel returned from Shadow City and revealed what he’d learned from Zanox. Seth appeared almost amused by the squabble, his posture too casual for the conflict in the room.

  “And what about Viktor?” Aster asked, drumming her fingertips against the table. “What might he say about this sudden decision to pardon demons and Shadowfey?”

  “Viktor is mature enough to understand we must sometimes compromise to survive and strengthen alliances. He may not rejoice in the idea, but he has always done what he must to serve the greater good.”

  Aster rolled her eyes. “There’s that self-righteous phrase again. Who left you in charge of determining what’s for the greater good, angel?”

  “Only one of us has led the people at this table into danger.” Remiel’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward against the table. “You may question my methods all you like, but my results speak for themselves. As does your lack thereof.”

  Aster’s face flushed. She opened her mouth, snapped it shut, and narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Let’s say we try things your way, then. What do you suggest we do when a demon grabs Lili again?”

  All eyes at the table shifted onto Lili. She squirmed in her chair under the heat of their stares, her eyes focused on her hands clasped in her lap. “The demons haven’t come for me yet. Not since we escaped the Shadowrealm.”

  “Zanox ordered them off,” Remiel said. “Turns out he had no idea what his wife had plotted in his absence.”

  Aster gave a sound of disbelief. “Did he explain his impersonation of Osius, too? Or why he tried to send us to our deaths?”

  Remiel frowned and shook his head. He ran a hand through the pale strands of his hair. “Zanox is the god of chaos. Little of his explanation is trustworthy.”

  “But he offered one?” Lili asked, her voice edgy. She shrank back as everyone turned her direction. “What did he say?”

  Remiel pursed his lips. “Zanox claimed he heard a rumor from one of his demons. His wife supposedly gave birth to a child with a certain Archangel he’d held prisoner some years before. He sent a handful to Astryae to gather information, but someone slipped word to Daeva he knew. She sent soldiers of her own to find Lili and do more than study her. She wanted her dead before Zanox could find her.”

  “But Zanox found Lili first,” Aster said, the wheels in her head spinning.

  “Aye. He did not say how he discovered our plan, but he claims he impersonated Osius to get close enough to investigate for himself. He sent her down to the Shadowrealm to see how his wife would handle the confrontation of her secrets.”

  “So I was a prop in his game?” Lili asked, her voice hard.

  Remiel shrugged. “He is the personification of chaos. Are we surprised?”

  “And yet you suggest we join sides with him.” Aster scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “Viktor would shake you if he heard the nonsense spewing from your lips.”

  Remiel’s face hardened to stone. He opened his mouth to speak, but Aster had heard enough.

&nb
sp; “Speaking of Viktor, this team is still down one of its strongest members. I’d suggest we pour extra hours into Seth and Lili’s training to compensate for the loss.”

  “Temporary loss,” Lili grumbled. “Viktor will return. He promised.”

  “Let us hope so.” Aster rubbed her temples. “If we don’t regain control, we might lose this war before it begins.”

  * * *

  Aster had led Morrigan upstairs to her bedchamber soon after the others scurried away. Her impromptu trip to Killara had left her uncertain if she’d see her lover again, let alone feel the warmth of her skin. They used Morrigan’s stave to seal the door, and the two spent the rest of the night in bed making up for time lost.

  Morrigan fell asleep at some point, leaving Aster to study the rise and fall of her chest as she slumbered. She had loved Morrigan, once. In another life, they might have found a cottage and lived together forever surrounded by the light of their love.

  But fate had always had other plans for them. Aster had tasted the end on her lips in the middle of their first kiss. And poor, sweet Morrigan had experienced so little love in her life she didn’t realize they’d lost it ages ago.

  She ran a hand through the waves of her hair and exhaled a shaky breath. She had planned to stop by Lili’s room and check in on her, but Morrigan’s legs had entwined with her own until she couldn’t tell where her limbs stopped and Morrigan’s began. No matter how she tried to maneuver, any attempts to escape the bed would wake her lover.

  Her hand wandered to the small scar in the center of her chest, proof she needed Morrigan even if she couldn’t love her the way she deserved. The fractal of her soul gem would help, but not enough to protect them from the devastation to come. She didn’t have enough soul left to barter for the amount of dark magic required to keep them safe.

  But Morrigan did, and Morrigan had proven she’d do damn near anything for Aster. Her stomach twisted as she moved her eyes from her lover’s wild curls to the sharp curves of her body.