Restoration

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  “They’re here.” Keegan’s two words officially end our moment.

  Asher nods in acknowledgment. “We’ll finish this later, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I exhale and suddenly my heart is in my throat.

  “Head to the stage for the crowning, and be on alert, Ash,” Keegan orders, walking away.

  Dread fills me, and I break out in a cold sweat. My hands cup Asher’s face roughly and urgently bring him in for a deep, sensual kiss. I pour my entire heart and soul into him through our fused lips, because the thought of losing him tonight guts me.

  Asher pulls back, dropping his forehead to mine. “It’s almost over.”

  We stay like this for another moment before Sora’s voice floats around the gala.

  “Good evening,” she says from the stage, commanding the attendees’ focus. “I am honored to be here tonight with you to celebrate the appointment of Asher St. Michael as king of the gargoyle race. Our community realizes the Royal Council of Protectors normally oversees such formalities.” She clears her throat. “However, due to unfortunate circumstances, the Spiritual Assembly is privileged to direct the ceremonies this evening as our young prince takes his rightful place with his newly bonded mate by his side.”

  Clapping and cheering breaks out across the guests, and Asher takes my hand in his, holding a little too tightly, guiding us toward the stage. A fresh wave of fear washes over me as I watch Asher’s eyes dart around wildly.

  We take the two steps onto the stage. Once we reach Sora, she curtsies elegantly.

  “Your Highnesses,” she greets.

  Asher dips his head in a regal manner and I follow suit. “Sora,” he replies, formally.

  Keegan and Callan take their spots, flanking Asher and me with their mates on either side of them. I scan the crowd, meeting several pairs of familiar eyes.

  The eccentric Sorceress Lunette offers me an encouraging smile. Next to her is Professor Davidson, the elder gargoyle and guardian of the divination of redemption. Tadhg places his heavily tattooed arm around Fiona, squeezing the shape-shifting panther into his side while her proud stare fills with water. I offer a warm expression to Rulf, Tabatha and Helena, standing in the front row.

  My gaze shifts over Lord Valentin, leader of the vampire world, and his second, Stephan, who’ve both traveled from Romania to be here. Lucian, king of the werewolves, offers me a respectful dip of his chin with Leo, his beta, by his side. I wish Aria were here. I can’t see them, but I can feel Gage, Nassa, Michael, and Uriel watching the stage and the crowd below, along with the gargoyle leaders: Marcus, Griffin, Sean, Angus, and Thomas.

  And hidden somewhere in the darkness, I sense Garrick, Deacon, and Lord Falk lurking in the shadows of the dark army, waiting for their chance. Knowing they’re watching, I lift my chin and stand taller by Asher’s side. As his warrior, I’m prepared to make any sacrifice necessary for him and the throng of supernatural realms in attendance on this night.

  Sora’s voice brings my focus back to the reason why we are all truly here today. “Asher and Eve, please take a knee in front of me,” she instructs, and we do.

  Keegan hands Sora Asher’s Angelic Sword. “Asher St. Michael, do you swear to uphold all aspects of gargoyle decree? Do you affirm you will lead your kin with righteousness and grace? Will you practice and instill protector bylaws of duty, honor, and protection during your rule, so long as you shall exist?”

  Asher’s gaze skates over the crowd, waiting for any sign of an interruption before landing back on Sora’s with a lift of his chin. “I do.”

  She places the tip of his sword to his right shoulder, then left, and finally the crown of his head. After each motion, she chants in Gaelic. “Dieacht, honor, agus Cosaint.”

  Asher squeezes my hand and Sora places his sword back into Keegan’s protection. Callan steps forward, offering my daggers to the Spiritual Assembly Leader.

  She stands in front of me. “Eve Marie Collins, do you swear to uphold all aspects of gargoyle decree? Do you affirm you will lead your adopted kin with righteousness and grace? Will you practice and instill protector bylaws of duty, honor, and protection by your king’s side, so long as you shall exist?”

  “I do,” I say firmly.

  Sora follows the same steps with my daggers as she did with Asher’s sword. After each motion, she repeats the Gaelic words, only this time, using English. “Duty, honor, and protection.”

  I watch as she hands my weapons back to Callan and motions for us to stand. Turning to the silent crowd, she smiles. “It is with most distinguished honor that I present to all supernatural realms, the king and queen of the gargoyle race, Their Highnesses, Asher and Eve.”

  Excitement ripples through the guests with applause and hollers. This should be a moment of great happiness. Instead, those of us on stage are on high alert.

  After receiving a number of congratulatory wishes, we return to the table and rearm ourselves with our weapons. “What the hell is going on? Where are they?” Asher snaps.

  “Something isn’t right,” Keegan responds. “I would have bet my life they would have interrupted the coronation.”

  “They’re definitely here. The guards have seen them and I can sense them,” Callan adds.

  “So do we wait some more?” Abby asks.

  “Or draw them out?” McKenna interjects.

  We all fall silent in contemplation, which is cut short by the clinking of a glass.

  After the third clink, the end begins.

  Chapter 19

  In the End

  Garrick stands in front of all of us on the stage, with Deacon and Lord Falk on either side. A champagne flute in one hand, and a butter knife in the other, clanking the glass to gain attention. He smiles out into the crowd before meeting the clan’s eyes.

  Their father’s face reflects kindness, though his body language is giving off nothing but malevolence. Nassa and Gage step out from behind the musicians. Gage turns to me, his face stricken with panic, and I know, I just know, something awful is about to happen.

  Garrick patiently waits for the murmurs and rumbles to die down before he begins his speech. “How wonderful to see so many familiar faces this evening. I’m sure that my son and his new mate are pleased you’ve joined them tonight on this special occasion.”

  Asher’s gaze slides to mine, his jaw clenched in anger. Keegan takes a step toward the stage, but Callan stops him. “Let’s just see what Daddy Dearest has to say.”

  “If you all would be so kind as to indulge me, I do believe a toast to the new monarchy is in order and within my rights as your previous king and the new ruler’s father.” He pauses for dramatic effect. With an eerie confidence, Garrick locks eyes with Asher. “Now that you have everything, son—your mate, your title, the love of your race—would you give it up? Would you dare let it go? Are you prepared to sacrifice love . . . for your kin’s existence?”

  Everything around us becomes silent, unnaturally still. My heartbeat syncs with Asher’s, and our combined beats slam against my ribs as we listen to Garrick.

  “My bloodline, your bloodline, has been cursed over the years. Our race was bred by the divine for one purpose—to protect. While the Heavenly army fights for virtue, the demonic legion struggles for control.” Garrick barks out a laugh. “The sad irony here is, both sides engage in an ongoing battle that neither will ever win. But you already know this, don’t you, son? And during this cycle of waging war against one another, the gargoyle line continues to sacrifice their existence in order to save Heaven’s precious human race.” He sighs, passing the champagne flute to Deacon. “And for what? Free will?” He tsks. “How petty. It seems a shame to allow humans an avenue to continue to fuck up.” He tilts his head in contemplation. “Though, perhaps that was the plan all along. Perhaps, the divine prefer mankind to stumble so they can continue to feel superior to lesser races.” Asher’s father passes his gaze over the group. “What do you think will happen to the supernatural realms when it is no longer essenti
al to shield mundanes from evil? Gargoyles were created for protection, so if there is nothing to protect, we cease to exist.”

  Asher seethes. “There will always be a threat. Our continued existence is set in stone.”

  Garrick’s expression saddens. “Love blinds you, son. Isn’t that right, Eve?” His gaze slides to mine and my stomach bottoms out. “For those of you unaware, my son’s human mate is the daughter of a divine archangel, which, unlike nephilim, makes her bloodline pure. As a result of her parents’ treachery, her father positioned her as a weapon of Heaven, designed to end the long-standing war. A struggle, we all know, will never end. Knowing this, Michael bound his daughter to my son’s bloodline. You see, as long as Asher and Eve exist as a bonded couple, the dark army cannot attack Heaven’s gates. Mankind, however, is once again left to seek protection from darkness by the gargoyles.”

  “That is enough!” Asher’s voice bellows around the forest.

  The gala’s guests appear stunned and worried by Garrick’s bold words.

  He smiles widely. The gentleness is gone from his expression. In its place is a sadistic look. The dark army lingers in the shadows. Deacon and Lord Falk seem too calm.

  Garrick releases an awkward laugh. “I realize toasts at these events tend to go rather long, my apologies,” he says in a creepy, smooth voice, reaching for his glass and raising it toward Asher and me. “To the new monarchs. May Asher and Eve’s love for one another continue until they take their last breaths.”

  My mouth hangs open at the evident warning. I seem to have forgotten how to breathe. A violent pulsation flows through my veins, and I realize I am experiencing Asher’s blood boiling at his father’s threat.

  “Shit,” Callan exhales and positions himself in front of Asher’s fuming body.

  Garrick throws the crystal flute into the throng. The crowd parts and the glass hits the dance floor in front of us, landing on the St. Michaels’ family crest. It shatters into a million tiny pieces.

  “I have ensured the gargoyle race continues to exist by aligning with the dark army. I. AM. STILL. YOUR. KING! Under my rule, I will lead us to everlasting existence without the burden of protecting human life.” Garrick’s eyes lock onto mine. “Darkness will always prevail.”

  In the blink of an eye, Asher is around Callan and stalking toward the stage. “NO! You sold your soul to the darkness for your own selfish wants!” he yells, pointing at his father. “Do not manipulate what you’ve done as anything but.”

  “WRONG!” Garrick shouts back. “I did what I had to do to save my race as KING!”

  Asher stops in front of the steps. “Who are you? Where is the father I revered as a child? You had it all. A loving wife, adoring sons, and a kingdom that worshiped the ground you walked on. Instead, you chose to embrace and turn to darkness. The very things you taught us to rebel against our entire lives,” Asher pants. “I don’t recognize this self-serving asshole you’ve become.”

  Garrick’s nostrils flare. “You cocky little prick.” Asher jerks back as if slapped. “You know nothing of what it takes to run a kingdom, to be responsible for the success of a realm. I had everything, but I am a KING! I sacrificed love. I gave it up. I dared to let go, so that my race could continue to exist. My kingdom could thrive. My realm could grow. You know nothing.”

  Asher straightens his posture, morphing into warrior mode. I flinch, knowing he’s about to attack. “I might be a cocky prick, but I’m sure my mate can attest to the fact that I am certainly not little.” Asher throws a wink over his shoulder at me. In response, I give him a pointed glare that clearly says not the time. “Let me point out where your regime failed. Without my love for Eve, none of this matters. I don’t, I can’t, exist without her. So fuck you and your ideologies of what must be sacrificed to save our race. Eve makes me a great leader just by standing by my side. In the end, if my love for her is my downfall, then I’ll be ten times the king you ever were.”

  “She will be your downfall, son.” Garrick’s cold stare meets mine.

  I remain silent. Keegan and Callan step slightly in front of me. My light energy buzzes inside of me at the approach of the dark army. Garrick nods his head as if signaling something. The small amber light bulbs twinkling against the inky sky above us begin to pop and spark as the crowd runs to take cover.

  McKenna grabs my arm, pulling me backward as Keegan and Callan disappear from my sightline.

  Mass chaos erupts as the dark army slithers out from the shadows of the trees with the divine legion behind them, weapons drawn. Protectors from each of the gargoyle clans stand ready to fight. The leaders of the Royal Supernatural Court begin dishing out orders to members of their realms.

  I look around and watch as the gala transforms before my eyes into a full-out war zone.

  A loud crack of thunder booms and explodes throughout the night sky, shooting large shards of light into the woodland site. I flinch back and withdraw my daggers. Standing, I watch in horror as our supernatural guests engage in battle.

  McKenna pushes me toward Abby. “Stay with her!” she orders before taking off toward the stage.

  I look back and see the dark army already closing in on Abby. Immediately, my energy floats through my body, down my arms and out my hands, hitting the small group of demons and ending them. Abby’s wide eyes turn to me, and she nods her thanks before wiggling her fingers and conjuring up a massive windstorm. The air whistles and whips around through the trees as the dark shadows continue to descend.

  Michael’s divine warriors appear in droves, rushing at the dark army. Shrill, heart-stopping cries break out through the commotion as his army annihilates the demons, destroying them with an ease and speed I’ve never seen before. Howls of pain rip through the air as the Heavenly warriors obliterate and devastate the demonic legion.

  Seeing Michael and Uriel have the dark army under control, my gaze snaps to the stage, seeking Asher out. I turn back to Abby, but the wind is making it difficult to hear, so I point my dagger toward the area, letting her know that is where I’m heading.

  Once again, she nods, and I take off. I try to block out the nightmare coming alive in vivid details around me as I disappear into the battling mob. The sounds of clattering blades, screams, and shouts mingle with the sounds of flesh being ripped apart and life extinguishing, surrounding me.

  My hair is gripped violently from behind, my neck snapping back. I spin and come face-to-face with a demon. I clench my teeth, taking a deep breath, and engage the fiend. I slam into its chest with my foot, causing it to release my hair and stumble backwards. As it rushes at me again, I grip my daggers tighter and duck out of its grasp. I swing my right hand around and land my blade into its chest, causing it to extinguish in blue flames.

  I stand straight. “Asshole,” I pant out and turn, only to have another demon come at me. Crap. I sink my other knife into this one’s throat. I don’t wait for the blue flame, because when my gaze lifts, I notice that Asher has his sword across Lord Falk’s throat and doesn’t see the demon ready to attack from behind.

  I bolt toward them, running at the dark being. It doesn’t sense me coming from behind it. “No one touches my mate but me.” I plunge both daggers into its back, ending it.

  Asher spins, Lord Falk in his clutches. His eyes drop to the blue flame, and then back to me. “I’m not going to lie, that was damn sexy,” he grunts.

  “Thanks.” I nod my chin at Lord Falk who is watching us with disdain. “Need help?”

  “Nope. I’m glad you’re here though.” Asher sinks his blade a little farther into the council leader’s throat, causing his eyes to widen in fright. “I’m about to painfully end this asshole’s existence for what he did to you. Anything you want to say to him?”

  I swallow. I’m not a cruel person, but I really hate this jerk. “Rot in hell.”

  In the background, I hear a loud popping noise and know Abby released her sonic boom. I keep my eyes focused on Asher. He now has the council leader on his knees, whis
pering in his ear. Lord Falk’s face is ghostly white, and without warning, Asher whips his sword through the air in a graceful and brutal manner, landing it in the middle of the gargoyle’s head. He runs it down the vertical length of Lord Falk, literally splitting him in two, before plunging the tip in the leader’s heart, turning him to dust. I wince. That was violent.

  Asher faces me, breathing heavily. “Where is Deacon?”

  My eyes roam around the slowly ending battle. There are a lot of bodies on the ground, some demon, others supernatural. My stomach roils. Asher follows my gaze and sighs.

  “Right here.” Deacon emerges from the shadows on the stage, pulling our attention.

  Gage, Keegan and McKenna are right behind the half-demon, half-gargoyle, trapping him between the five of us. Memories of what happened while being his prisoner hit me, but I immediately push them away.

  “Hello, little girl.” His voice is filled with malice.

  “Deacon,” I reply.

  “Interested in some play time?” he goads.

  Asher steps forward angrily, but I cup his elbow, pulling him back.

  “We’re mated. That means I get to follow supernatural rule. Hence, it is my right to end him,” I explain to Asher.

  “No fucking way,” he retorts.

  I ignore him, stepping toward Deacon.

  “An eye for an eye,” I say.

  Deacon laughs cruelly. “I’ve taken great pleasure in your friend and mother’s deaths.”

  I clench my teeth at the reminder. “As I will take in yours.”

  The right side of his lips tilt in a smug smirk. “Come get me then,” he baits.

  I grip my daggers and meet him halfway. We circle around one another, seething at each other for a few moments. In the background, I see the four other protectors watching, ready to attack if need be. Deacon has to know he’s outnumbered. Out of respect, though, they let me try. I wait patiently, putting into practice everything Callan and my demon training instilled.