Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2)

by Morgana Phoenix

  The door to the diner flew open with a resounding bang that rattled the windows and sent a squeal out of Imogen. But that was nothing compared to the three hulking figures that barged into the room, swords glinting in the dull light.

  “Fabulous!” Gideon set aside his drink and rose to his feet. “Company.”

  “Riley, take Imogen—” There was no time for Octavian to finish.

  The three by the door lunged.

  Gideon had no idea what they were, but they were fast. He barely had time to grab the chair he’d been sitting on and use it as a shield when the sword came whooshing down for his head. The blade struck the wood and stuck.

  Using the momentum, Gideon jerked, wrenching the weapon from the creature’s grasp. Going through the motion, he twisted his body and landed a solid kick to the thing’s chest. The force sent it staggering back just far enough to give Gideon a second to detach the sword from the chair and slam the hilt between the creature’s eyes.

  Disorientated, the creature wasn’t fast enough to see Gideon swoop down and kick its legs out from under him. He struck the ground with a force that shook the floorboards. Gideon straddled him, sword raised high and aimed for its chest.

  “Gideon!”

  Riley’s scream of panic had him faltering, had him spinning around just in time to see another creature right up against his back, dagger poised to strike. His heart took a split second to slam into his chest, but that was all.

  His calves were grabbed by the creature at his feet and he was sent sprawling to the ground. The sword went spinning out of his grasp. The wind left his lungs. But he couldn’t let that stop him as he flipped onto his back, just in time to kick the creature holding his leg in the face. It was also just in time to watch as Riley took a running leap and latched herself onto the back of the one standing over him.

  “Riley!” His terror washed through him even as he struggled to get to his feet, to get to her before she was killed.

  Across the room, Octavian took a blow to the back when he whipped around. He went down on his knees. But their father was there, tackling the creature back before it could sink the blade he was wielding into Octavian’s back.

  Breathing hard, Gideon rolled away from the creature on the ground and lunged to his feet. The creature did the same, blocking him from getting to Riley.

  He blocked the first fist flying for his head. The second one caught him in the ribs. He went down on one knee, clutching at the crippling pain spiking through his entire body. No amount of struggling to breath brought enough air to ward off the black splotches invading his vision. Even when every muscle screamed for him to get up, to get to Riley. He couldn’t move.

  Shaking, he crumpled backward so all he could see was the rafters overhead and the creature’s leering face as he moved to stand over Gideon.

  I’m going to die.

  His vision swam. He tried to fight it back, tried to remain conscious, tried to find feeling in his limbs. But everything was hazy, and yet bright. It hurt.

  Then there was a scream, high and deafening, harsh and cruel. It spiked through the cavity of his brain, jarring pain down the column of his spine. The figure above him lurched back, hands clamped over his enormous ears.

  Imogen. Was she screaming for him? Was he about to die?

  Gideon tried to roll over when a spike of light shot through the air, impaling the creature dead center. Blood spewed from the wound, bathing Gideon where he lay. The thing slumped out of sight. Then there was a face over him. An angel. Beautiful blue eyes peered down into his face, wide with panic. Red lips moved, forming words he couldn’t hear. Soft hands reached for him, grappling at his clothes, tearing the fabric away to get to flesh.

  “No...” His words slurred. “Don’t touch me.”

  Those breathtaking eyes blinked, shock and hurt reflecting in their clear surface for only a split second before they were filled with anger. Then she was gone.

  No! Don’t go...

  Another face replaced hers, this one covered in blood. Yet despite that, he recognized her immediately. Riley.

  “It’s okay,” she was telling him, her voice urgent and full of tears. “Just hold on.” She dragged his head into her lap. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Hang on. Just...”

  The rest of her words faded to a dull silence and Valkyrie’s tight features shimmered into view.

  “Kyrie...” His name for her decades ago was the last thing he recalled saying before the world closed to black.

  1697, Hudson Bay, Canada

  “No fooling around,” his father said as he led the way through a corridor of marble toward a set of open doors. “Gideon...”

  Gideon, who had been studying the suits of armor, started. “Why must you always accuse me?”

  His father glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Because you are the only one who cannot seem to go a few minutes without making a snide remark.”

  “That would be me,” Magnus muttered from their mother’s other side. “But, please, continue chastising Gideon. He certainly deserves it.”

  Gideon shoved him, sending him teetering into Regulus, who glowered and swatted at Gideon, hitting Octavian instead.

  “Boys!” Halting mid stride, their mother and father spun on them. “This is what I am referring to,” their father snapped. “You must control yourselves, for just this one evening. I implore of you!”

  “He started it!” Gideon objected, waving towards Magnus.

  Patience reaching the end of its tether, their father pinched the bridge of his nose and growled deep in his throat. He stood that way for so long that they thought maybe he had fallen asleep. Then he raised his head and pinned them each with solemn gray eyes.

  “I cannot stress enough the importance of this moment,” he began slowly. “We must show the others we are a unit, a force of strength and power. If they see us squabbling like children amongst ourselves, what would they think? That we are not responsible and cannot be trusted. The other Keepers will not take lightly to your shenanigans.” He took a deep breath, calmed himself. “Signing the bound is by far the most imperative event in our history. Together with the other Keepers, we will make our territories safe and maintain order. We must carry ourselves with grace and respect. Understood?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to promise not to eat his food with his feet, but the seriousness in his father’s eyes stifled the urge.

  He nodded. “Understood.”

  Relief softened the tension in his father’s shoulders. He smiled warmly at them. “I know you will not disappoint me. Come.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  The room opened to an oval chamber warmed by a roaring hearth and candlelight. In the center, a large, round table housed the heads of all four corners, each seated at the element etched into the wood. Flames for the south. A jagged mountain for the north. Three lines for the east in horizontal waves and two vertical lines for the west. His father led them to the north point and drew out one of the two chairs, the one on his right. His mother smiled lovingly up at him before sliding into it. He took the left. Like the other sons and daughters of the Points, Gideon and his brothers remained standing, a tight group just over their parent’s shoulders.

  Across from them, a beautiful woman with exotic tan skin and a riot of darker curls inclined her head politely. Her long hands were folded neatly over the fire symbol of her element. On her left was a much older man, with hands bigger than Gideon’s whole head. His massive frame barely fit in the chair, and next to him, his wife appeared almost miniature sized.

  Past their shoulders, stood a woman with a face designed to make a man beg. Everything from her full, pouty mouth to her wide, dominating eyes dripped with sexual appeal. Her hair was a riot of dark, shiny curls pinned in an elaborate knot around her head with stray tendrils kissing her neck and shoulders. For a moment, she was all Gideon could stare at. He was enthralled by her beauty ... and the fact that he was pretty certain her tunic was se
e-through. Long, thick lashes lifted and those warm, brilliant brown eyes the color of caramel found his almost like she could sense him watching. Red lips curved in a slow, seductive grin that made Gideon uncomfortably hard. She winked and he felt himself flush—and nearly come in his pants.

  “Gideon!” His mother’s sharp hiss made him jump.

  Next to him, Magnus snickered and quickly covered it in a cough. Gideon elbowed him.

  “That’s Richella, daughter of Queen Tiana and King Armine, Draconians of the south,” Octavian mumbled from Gideon’s other side. “And I would keep all parts of myself away from her if you wish to remain intact.”

  Gideon chuckled. “She certainly looks like she could destroy a man, doesn’t she? But what a way to meet ones end.”

  Octavian snorted. “I meant because of Mother.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be telling her, now would I,” Gideon muttered.

  Octavian made a sound between a laugh and a sigh. “She and Father are old friends,” he explained, which only made Gideon frown all the harder.

  “So? I don’t mind older women.”

  His brother’s gray eyes dropped down to his, sharp with intensity under dark brows. “They are old friends,” he repeated very slowly.

  The truth hit him and hit him hard enough to deflate his erection immediately.

  “Exactly,” Octavian said when Gideon visibly grimaced.

  He glanced at their mother and noticed the hard line of her mouth, the sharp slants of her shoulders and the way she refused to look anywhere near the south, which was hard to do considering they were straight ahead.

  On the right, a man with twice the amount of gut chortled at something one of the girls over his shoulder whispered in his ear. His gut jiggled as did his many chins. His brown eyes were lost in the deep crinkles straining out on either side. Gems glinted on each stubby finger as he pressed his hands to his belly, which was naked. He wore nothing but a yard of fabric around his hips and wooden sandals. The last time Gideon had walked out of his room wearing nothing but a towel, his mother had nearly taken a switch to his backside. She clearly hadn’t met this guy.

  “That is King Jub,” Octavian murmured. “His wife died during the war. He rules the east with his daughters, whose names elude me.”

  Gideon turned his attention to the left and the ramrod straight man staring down the length of his nose at everyone. He sat with his hands on the table like Queen Tiana, except it wasn’t with care. His was a show of power. It showed in the hard lines of his shoulders and in the tight slash of his mouth. His hair was as gray as the tunic he wore. It mirrored the smocks adorning the five girls behind him. Each one very pale with blue eyes and dark hair, and each one more beautiful than the last.

  “King Arild and his wife, Queen Cressida, Harvesters of the west,” Octavian mumbled with just a hint of dislike. “Their daughters, Alva, Erle, Anika, Serinda and Valkyrie.”

  At the mention of her name, Gideon’s entire body stiffened. His heart began palpitating with anticipation and excitement. He had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. But sure enough.

  Valkyrie.

  He couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t seen her since that night in Salem, yet there she was, the picture of absolute beauty with white lilies in her hair and another in her hands. Unlike her sisters, who were looking straight ahead as though they’d been turned to statues, she kept shifting like her legs were getting tired. Her lips were twisted in a grimace. She raised a hand and tugged on the collar of the dress, then on the skirt. It was adorable. Until the girl on her right, Serinda, Gideon assumed, elbowed her.

  With a huff, she straightened, but he could see her frustration glimmering behind her eyes. Then those eyes darted to the right and widened. Recognition flashed. Her mouth slackened into an O of surprise.

  Gideon grinned widely and raised a hand to give her the slightest wave. And for a second, just a split second, her lips quirked. Her eyes shone with silent laughter as she started to wave back.

  Her sister hissed at her and muttered something low that had the light fading from Valkyrie’s eyes and her shoulders slumping.

  With a last look at him, she turned her gaze forward. But if she had hoped that would deter him, it hadn’t.

  While the council spoke of unity and peace, of joining forces and banding together for the greater good, Gideon watched her. Everything about her called to him, sang to his soul. Part of him wondered if she was part siren, a beautiful creature with the power to render men weak and helpless before dragging them to their watery graves.

  Her gaze flicked to him from the corner of her eye. Her mouth quirked on one side in an almost conspiratorial grin, like they shared a secret. Gideon dared a glance at her sisters, then at the rest of the room, but everyone was focused on the table.

  “Hello,” he mouthed.

  Her grin widened. “Hello.”

  There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask her, but he wasn’t sure he could mouth them all without giving them away.

  “How are you?” he asked finally.

  Valkyrie shrugged, her blue eyes rolling heavenward.

  The movement caught the attention of her sister and she was given a sharp glare and an even sharper jab in the side. Valkyrie pursed her lips and went back to staring grudgingly straight ahead ... just until her sister wasn’t looking. Then she shot Gideon a smirk that sent his insides whimpering.

  A fire was lit in a wooden bowl in the center of the table. Queen Tiana held her hands over the leaping flames. Her dark eyes were closed as she hummed softly. Gideon had never seen a fire elemental at work and stared fascinated as the flames licked her fingers. She seemed immune to their sharp nips. Carefully, she slid her palms down the sides like she were petting a dog and pulled away when she got to the bowl.

  The Keepers rose. A sleek, silver dagger was given to Gideon’s father. Gideon watched as the edge was gouged into his palm and dragged lengthwise from finger to heel. His mother flinched, her protective mate instincts prickling at the sight of her husband’s blood. But she didn’t stop him as he lifted his fist over the fire.

  “Liam Avery,” he pronounced clearly. “Water elemental of the north.”

  Three drops of blood hissed as they landed at the bottom of the bowl. He pulled his hand away and it was all Gideon’s mother could do to keep from taking the injured hand in hers. His father smiled lovingly down at her as his free hand touched her lightly on the back, a gesture of reassurance.

  Then it was her turn and Gideon saw the tight bunch of his father’s jaw as the cut was made across her palm. Unlike her restraint, after she had declared herself, he took her small hand in his and lightly kissed the heel, unabashed, not caring that the others were watching. Her smile to him was dazzling and scorching with all the love she felt for him.

  Gideon would have been mortified if he hadn’t been so used to their absolute devotion to each other.

  The others went next, each one stating their name and elemental position. Each offered blood for the fire. After Cressida went with a quiet murmur, the flames turned a blinding blue that had everyone squinting and averting their eyes. Then, just as suddenly, it puffed out of existence and the bowl remained, unscathed.

  It was done. They had made their pact. The meeting was over and everyone rose to greet one another. While they mingled, Gideon made his escape. His gaze swung to the spot Valkyrie had stood and found it empty. His heart plummeted even as he told himself she couldn’t have gone far.

  “She went outside,” Magnus mumbled just for his ears. He jerked his chin towards the terrace doors across the room.

  Gideon smacked him on the shoulder in gratitude before sprinting after her.

  The night was crisp, still sharp with the fading winter months. The snow had melted, leaving tufts of grass shining with dew. Naked trees shivered like pale souls in the darkness. The terrace doors opened to a stone landing that cut down to two winding stairways that met at the bottom an
d disappeared into the garden in a path of white marble. Below, seemingly glowing, a white lily lay discarded as though cast carelessly aside and he knew she’d been there.

  “My sister will be very upset if I am caught speaking to you.”

  Like a dream, she peeled out of the shadows. With her alabaster complexion and white dress, she appeared almost ethereal. Her dark hair was void of the flowers someone had woven into the thick strands and they tumbled around her shoulders in a wild mess that made his hands ache to fist into it.

  “Well, your sister is not here.”

  Her soft, pink mouth turned up in that secretive grin of hers. “No, I suppose she is not.” She wandered closer and stopped when they were too close ... or not close enough. He couldn’t think. Her scent was incapacitating all thought from processing. “Should I be concerned for my virtue?”

  God, her virtue ... his gaze slid down the length of her, drinking in the way the soft, white fabric cinched at her waist and flared over lush hips. Yes. Her virtue was definitely in danger.

  His heart rocketed off the walls of his chest, making him oddly breathless when he spoke. “Would you be appalled if I said yes?”

  Her laugh exploded through him. She swung around and started for the stairs. It took every ounce of his resistance to remember it was impolite to touch a woman without permission. But that was all he wanted to do. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to brace her against the shadow kissed wall and devour her. The almost animalistic hunger was frightening and undeniable.

  “Where are you going?” he called after her.

  She peeked over her shoulder. “How badly would you like to know?”

  Her teasing spurred him down after her. Her tinkling laughter followed them to the path. Her hair swung like a dark cape as she pivoted on her slippered feet and faced him. The light from the terrace above shone over the soft lines of her face.

  “I was certain I would not see you again,” she declared.

  “Neither did I,” he confessed. “You left so quickly the last time.”

  “I had to get home.” Mischief glinted in her eyes. “My father was unaware I had left.”