Restoration

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  Finally, Deacon gets bored with our standoff and lunges for me, making a grab at my right arm. I feint to the left. He might be twice my size, but I’m fast. I have Asher’s gargoyle speed now, and my anger. I kick at his knee, but he doesn’t move. That sucks.

  He lunges for me again. This time, his arm swings, and his fist aims for my face. I jerk back, avoiding the punch, but still getting knocked back a few steps.

  Asher steps forward.

  “NO!” I shout at him. “It’s my right.”

  “Eve,” he growls in warning.

  I shake my head, praying he’ll stay put.

  He does, with a ticking jaw.

  Deacon takes advantage of my distraction and dips quickly, viciously swinging his arm. I jump to the side, but not in time, and the tip on the blade of his knife slices into my upper arm, deep. I wince and release a small cry from the pain.

  He offers a sinister smirk. “You are no match for me.” Deacon disappears and reappears right in front of me, his fist slamming into my stomach. I double over, dropping my daggers and staggering to the ground, gasping for air. “I’m going to rip you apart, little girl.”

  Behind us, Asher rushes the half-demon with his sword. Just as he approaches, I kick my right leg out in a semicircle, sweeping Deacon’s legs out from underneath him. He falls quickly turning onto his back with Asher standing over him.

  Asher brings the Angelic Sword down on the half-demon’s throat, searing the skin. My eyes widen as three of the dark army’s demons charge at Asher from behind. Gage, McKenna and Keegan spring to action, taking them out quickly.

  “You will never lay another hand on her again,” Asher fumes.

  I stand and grip my daggers, watching. Callan’s words come back to me. Demons are smart, always one step ahead. Therefore, you too must always be one step ahead, cutie. I straighten myself and calm my breathing, knowing what Deacon will do next.

  In an instant, Deacon vanishes and reappears behind me, his knife to my throat now. I remain calm, because I’m one step ahead of him. Panic falls across Asher’s expression. I meet his eyes and give him a look that assures him I’ve got this. After a moment, he nods his understanding. We’ve practiced this a thousand times in training, and I’m ready.

  Deacon is barking ridiculous threats at Asher. I ignore the words. Asher responds, playing into Deacon’s anger. I’ve got one chance at this, so while he’s distracted, I lift my daggers, plunging them into each of Deacon’s thighs. He grunts, releasing the blade at my throat.

  Using my speed, I duck and spin behind Deacon. In the process, I yank one of my daggers out of his leg and push him toward Asher, who plunges his sword into Deacon’s stomach. The tip protrudes out his back.

  Asher’s eyes lock onto mine before he shouts. “Now.”

  From behind, I charge at Deacon’s back and push my dagger into it, piercing his heart. My mouth is at his ear. “This is for Aria and my mother.”

  Seconds later, Asher violently removes his Angelic Sword and thrusts into Deacon’s heart from the front. The five of us watch as Deacon begins to turn to stone from the bottom of his feet. I withdraw my blade and step around to the front, standing next to Asher.

  He interlaces our fingers and violently yanks his sword from Deacon’s half-stone body.

  Deacon’s expression is blank as he turns into a stone statue. When the marble hits his neck, his eyes narrow on me. “In life or death, Eve Collins, I will haunt you.”

  With those final words thrown at me calmly, the stone petrifaction finishes, and he is forever trapped in the confines of his stone prison.

  Asher exhales and pulls me into a tight embrace. “Well done, siren.” His lips brush my temple as he holds me tightly, sending healing energies into my body. The bleeding cut on my upper arm closes up immediately, and my stomach muscles stop throbbing from the punch. “See what we can do when we trust one another and work together, as a team?”

  I nod, unable to speak. My body trembles from the adrenaline.

  A loud crackle shatters through the woods, and the five of us turn our attention to the battle below. Most of it has ended. We look around the forest floor and see all of the faces we know and love staring back at us. Everyone looks rough, and tired, some bleeding, but they’re all there. Alive. Breathing.

  The dark army has receded, and Michael pulls his lightning bolt from the ground. Uriel steps to his side and both archangels turn their focus to the stage, taking a knee and leaning on their golden swords in front of Asher and me. Everyone has halted their movements across the gala, transfixed on the two beautiful angelic warriors.

  “It is with distinguished honor we inform Your Highnesses the divine warriors have successfully ended the dark army’s threat this evening,” Michael says. “We are also pleased to proclaim that we have just received word from the Angelic Council. It appears an agreement has been reached, by both the divine and demonic realms. A second peace treaty has been signed.”

  I pinch my brows. “What does that mean?”

  Uriel and Michael stand and take steps toward the stage.

  “It means, Eve, that the dark army will no longer hunt you,” Uriel states solemnly.

  “Really?” I exhale. Why aren’t they happy about that?

  Michael’s expression is crestfallen. “For now, yes. Negotiations were set forth, and promises were made by both sides. Consider the next one hundred years a reprieve.”

  Asher exhales. “What happens when this treaty expires?”

  Michael’s eyes meet Asher’s. “Your Highness, divine records are sealed. As a warrior of Heaven, I cannot share the contents with the supernatural world.”

  Asher bristles at Michael’s answer but drops his chin in understanding.

  The archangel turns his attention to me, stepping onto the stage and lowering his voice. “Eve, trust my words. When this treaty ends, the world as you know it will cease to exist.”

  A sinking feeling curls in my stomach and my mind reels at all the ways the Angelic Council negotiated. I study Michael’s unreadable expression. After a moment, I realize it wasn’t the Angelic Council. Michael has agreed to something to get a second treaty signed.

  My eyes sting with tears as I meet his empty stare. “What did you do?” I whisper.

  Michael smiles. “Protect my daughter.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “Libby and I love you. We will protect you from above, always,” Michael states.

  Uriel steps closer to us. “Our assignment is over. We’re being called back.”

  Michael nods and brings his hand up, cupping my cheek. “I am unsure of when Uriel or I will return. I hope you will accept this treaty as a token of my paternal love for you.”

  Overcome with emotion, I wrap myself around Michael. “I love you.”

  A collection of light fractures the dark sky as the divine warriors take their leave, including Michael and Uriel. The supernatural creatures still here come back to life and take in the destruction surrounding us. The stench of sulfur and blue flames are everywhere.

  “What a fucking mess,” Keegan says, looking around.

  Callan and Abby join us. “Dad is gone.”

  Asher rubs his face and pushes his hands through his hair. “Good.”

  Callan shakes his head. “No, not gone gone. Gone as in disappeared. Escaped.”

  “Fuck,” Asher exhales, drawing the word out.

  All of us stay silent for a while, exhausted and pondering what happened tonight.

  Keegan sighs. “We should get down there and see what the damage is.”

  “Agreed,” Callan responds.

  We begin to work our way through the guests and mess. From the dance floor, I stare up at the statue that was once Deacon before my gaze shifts to Asher. He pulls me into his strong arms, and I relax against him.

  “Are you okay, siren?” he asks, his lips brushing my temple.

  “Yeah,” I mumble into his chest.

  “Not going to lie. Your fighting skil
ls are fucking hot.”

  I laugh and pull back. My gaze collides with his. “You’re not so bad yourself, gargoyle.”

  “We make a good team.” He smiles brightly and my breath hitches. “I think we’re going to be very happy together,” he whispers before closing his eyes and meeting my lips.

  Suddenly, I feel a searing pain. My eyes fly open, as do Asher’s, and we both look down to see a butter knife sticking out of my chest. My blood gushes around the silver cutlery protruding from my heart, staining my dress and Asher’s white shirt.

  “I disagree, son.” Garrick’s smug voice circles us.

  My eyes are wide as I stumble back in confusion. A waterfall of crimson liquid cascades onto the ground. Asher’s gaze swings to my blood running like a fast river through his dragon crest. Tears begin to stream down my face. I exhale a breath and my knees go weak.

  Asher folds me into his arms, gathering me close. We both drop to the ground and he pulls me on his lap, cradling my trembling body. His expression is filled with panic and horror as he thrusts his hand into my hair, pressing my face to his heart. Shit. The earlier pain I felt in my heart was a warning.

  “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, siren. I’ve got you,” he says over and over again while pushing healing energy into me. The dark tendrils twist between us.

  My head lolls back as the blackness threatens to take over.

  Asher’s gaze snaps to Garrick.

  “It’s over, son. It’s time to let. Her. Go,” Garrick coos.

  My lungs try to expand and drag in air, but for some reason, I can’t do it. I force my eyes open and closed. My chest is on fire.

  Garrick appears behind Asher, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The knife is made from an Angel Blade, son. It’s destroying the divine light in her. Your healing energy won’t work.”

  Asher’s eyes widen and fill with fear as he clings to me. Damn, the Angel Blade. The same one Jade used across my neck in the park. The only weapon Asher can’t heal me from.

  “I’m sorry, Asher,” I whisper as Gage comes into view behind Garrick, his sword drawn.

  Asher’s brows pull together in confusion. Gage looks down between us and my gaze slides to his. “Now,” I barely manage to say.

  In the next second, I see Gage lunge for Garrick. My vision blurs, and as if in a tunnel, I hear an odd gurgling sound coming from Asher’s father as Gage plunges his sword into Garrick’s heart.

  “That is for Camilla, you fucking asshole,” Gage seethes.

  I focus on Asher’s eyes as he leans over me, trying to heal my wound. With great effort, I lift my hand and trail the tips of my fingers over his jawline. I don’t want him to watch his father being murdered at Gage’s hand. Instead, I demand his attention stay on me.

  “This is my favorite . . . my favorite part of you,” I choke out.

  “Siren.” Tears form in his beautiful eyes.

  A cold emptiness falls over my body. My heart beats at a slow and sluggish rate. My breathing is labored. My chest seizes. My fading gaze shifts to Asher’s distraught face.

  “Stay with me,” he demands as his voice cracks.

  I watch a single tear as it slowly rolls down his cheek. Using the last of my energy I brush it away before my hand slips and falls with a thud on the ground.

  Asher brings his mouth toward mine, breathing into me.

  “I-I . . . won’t . . . I won’t let go,” I struggle to say across his lips.

  A hard sob wracks his body. “Don’t fucking let go, siren. Don’t let go.”

  “There is beauty in darkness,” I exhale on a last breath.

  In the end, Asher’s darkness is the last thing I feel before my light goes out.

  Chapter 20

  Restoration

  The golden rays of sunshine filter into the room, casting warmth and natural light across the bedroom as Asher watches me sleep. I can feel his eyes roaming over my body, taking in every inch of me in a slow, predatory manner. It’s as if he’s memorizing me, willing me not to vanish into thin air.

  He reaches across the bed and caresses my face. I turn to face him. My eyes flutter open and he exhales slowly.

  “Good morning, siren,” he whispers softly.

  I smile, cupping his left cheek with my hand. The stubble I love so much lightly scratches my palm as I whisper back.

  “Hey you.”

  Asher leans into my palm, holding it to his face before closing his eyes and inhaling.

  “I can’t believe we are really here. In a place of peace.”

  I lean up on my elbow, my hair cascading down my bare back onto the sheets.

  “Open your eyes, gargoyle. I promise it’s real.”

  Our intense gazes collide as Asher bends his forehead to mine. “I’m so grateful.”

  “I’m the one who is grateful. Your darkness saved me and protected my light,” I whisper.

  Sometimes, I have to remind myself to breathe because this is my life. It turns out the darkness Asher transferred to me during our mating ceremony is needed to keep my divine light. When Garrick stabbed me with the Angel Blade, he assumed the light in me would cease to exist, killing me. He was wrong. Asher’s darkness wrapped itself around my soul, protecting my light. Keeping me alive so that he could heal me in stone state.

  I smile, lightly grazing his lips. He cups my face and deepens the kiss, showing me what he feels his words are failing to say. His other hand brushes over my shoulder, down my back, caressing his mark. The touch sends heat throughout my veins.

  Asher pulls away, his breath on my face. He lovingly brushes my hair over my bare shoulder. “Every choice I’ve ever made, every mistake that has come from those choices, it was all for you. This, was all for you. I love you, siren.”

  My throat closes up, filled with emotion as I place my hand over his protector tattoo. After a few moments, Asher brings my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Don’t be long.”

  I lie on my back; staring at the ceiling fan and watching it rotate. My body and muscles ache in the best possible way when I stretch. I turn my head on the pillow to eye the empty spot beside me on the mattress. My hand runs over the warm sheets, and a small smile forms on my lips, recalling all the amazing things Asher and I did to one another last night.

  The sound of a kitchen cupboard being shut draws me up and out of bed. I feel around the floor for my tank top and matching shorts, finding them and quickly sliding them back on. I hop into the bathroom and twist my hair into a messy bun, then brush my teeth and touch up my gloss before heading downstairs.

  I take the last step of my childhood home’s stairs and turn toward the kitchen, stopping short in the doorway. Silently, I watch the shirtless gargoyle pour two cups of dark hot chocolate. The muscles in Asher’s broad shoulders move with him, making the dragon on his back come alive as he throws mini marshmallows in the mugs.

  I release an appreciative moan, and he snaps his head up. His gaze meets mine, and he presents his full-blown signature sexy smirk. Good god. That smile hits me in the chest like a punch. It’s intimate and affectionate, something only lovers share.

  In one stride, he crosses the small room and hands me a cup. My fingers wrap around the mug at the same time his lips graze mine. It’s official. I’m addicted to the taste of Asher St. Michael in the morning.

  His mouth kicks up on the sides at my reaction to him, knowing what the sight of him half-naked in black pajama bottoms and bare feet does to me. I retreat a step and make my way to the couch, curling up into the corner and burying my feet underneath me. In a casual manner, he strolls over and sits next to me, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks.

  I shrug and take a sip of my cocoa, basking in its warmth. “Better. It’s only been a few weeks, but the scar seems to be going away,” I reply, pulling down the left side of my tank.

  Asher’s expression instantly changes from soft to hard when he sees the tiny scar above my lef
t breast, where Garrick stabbed me with a butter knife, of all things. The look he has is unreadable as the muscle in his jaw ticks. I feel like he’s trying to see into my soul as his frown line appears between his brows.

  I place my mug on the coffee table and cup his cheeks, moving closer to him. “Hey,” I dip my chin and shift my head until he meets my gaze. “I’m here. I’m all right. It’s over.”

  His finger lifts and he brushes the tip across the raised skin. “Is it weird that it matches mine?”

  With a shake of my head, I lift the strap back. “Nope. It means we complete each other.”

  Asher shifts closer and smiles down at me. He brushes his lips across mine, and my hands find their way around his neck.

  The color of his eyes becomes darker with desire, and immediately, he crushes me to him. His lips demand I open my mouth, and I do, allowing him the access he so desperately wants.

  This kiss is deep, possessive. All Asher St. Michael.

  “Baby, be careful.” Abby’s voice interrupts our morning make-out session.

  We pull apart and watch her following Callan into the kitchen. He sets down two cases of what appear to be small glass jars.

  Abby turns around and her eyes widen at us. “Oh good, you’re both up.” She claps cheerfully. She skips over, pushing her way in between Asher and me on the couch, forcing us apart. Callan sits across from us, propping his flip-flop-covered feet on the table.

  “What’s that?” I point to the cases of jars.

  “Callan is making organic baby food now.” Abby beams.

  “Really? What brought this on?” I ask, reaching for my mug.

  Abby averts her eyes, and Asher covers his mouth with his palm, hiding a laugh.

  What the hell is going on?

  Callan smiles widely at me. “You did, cutie.”

  “Me?” I squeak out as McKenna and Keegan hop down the stairs at the same time Rulf and Gage come inside from the front porch, smelling like cigarette smoke.

  I watch as all the large gargoyles try to maneuver their way around my small vineyard house, attempting to grab coffee and breakfast as they perch themselves in various spots between the open kitchen and living room.