No soldiers lived. Their weapons lay discarded on the ground, some still held by severed hands or arms.
The coven appeared shaken, but alive, scattered around the bloody remains of the dead.
James was one of the few still standing. She extracted herself from Will.
“No, don't.” He reached out to pull her back.
She shook him off and kept going, stepping over limbs and walking around bodies. She breathed through her mouth, to avoid the stench and calm the nausea. She'd never witnessed death before, let alone in such a brutal way.
The same purplish luminosity shrouding the creatures surrounded James. The thin layer of his veins and muscle showed beneath his skin, his eyes a murky, pearl-white behind his ashen skin. For the first time, he fit her childhood image of a vampire.
She’d done this. In coming here tonight, she’d forced him to use his talent. He'd tried everything else to get them out of here. He'd used deadly force his last resort. A choice that must have been a difficult one for him to make.
His story about his transformation in Montgisard, came back to her. I couldn't stop. I killed them all.
She thought he'd referred to blood-lust, not his Vampiric talent. At the time, she didn't process it, two thousand dead. It wasn't something one man, no matter how good a soldier, could do. But a necromancer with a dead army could.
He'd been so ashamed. He would never forgive himself if innocent people were killed and she didn't know where the creatures escaped to.
She was afraid to touch him. Afraid the light radiating from him might harm her, but she needed to try. Holding out a trembling hand, she placed it on his chest. The air around him felt frigid—he was freezing to the touch.
“James, you have to stop now.”
He was unresponsive, lost to the trance he’d placed himself in.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body to his. He always warmed with her heat. “James.” She spoke louder this time, giving him a hard squeeze. “Come on, I know you're in there. We're safe now. Call them off.” She cupped his face. “Please.” She pressed her lips to his. “I love you.” Again, she pressed her mouth to his, and after a moment, she felt him kiss her back. Lilith's eyes shot open as his arms wound around her and held her close.
The roughness of his voice whispered in her ear. “I thought I lost you. You were so still.”
“Everything is fine.” She could hardly breathe, his embrace was so tight, but she didn't care. She pressed her face against his chest, happy to let him squeeze her to his heart's content.
***
James finished his shower, dressed and went downstairs. Lilith sat on the floor in the living room alone, surrounded by candles.
Trina must have gone to bed.
He sat on the couch while she finished, unable to hear any of her whispered words. One by one, she blew out the candles, until she reached the last, a thick red ball of wax. That one, she set in the empty fireplace and allowed to continue burning.
She turned to him and smiled.
“What’s all that?”
She glanced toward the stairs. “You heard the Historian, I won’t have my full powers until my other half is transformed.” She bit her lip, twisting the hem of her nightgown in her hands. “I petitioned the Goddess to bring my other half’s mate to us.”
James gaped. He couldn’t imagine that Trina—if she was indeed the other half of the Original—would be thrilled with Lilith’s plan. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
She let a sigh. “It’s not like I can ask permission without giving everything away to our enemy, now is it?”
He motioned her closer.
Lilith joined him on the couch, curling up beside him. “I know it might not be a good idea, I know she’s hurting right now, but how bad could her reaction be?”
James let loose a bark of laughter. He couldn’t help it. Whoever showed up here would have a hell of a battle with Trina.
Lilith swatted him. “Be nice. I want her to have what I have.”
“I know you do, but maybe you need to let it happen in its own time.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You've entered my life three times now. Each time at just the right moment—a moment when I was open to different ideas, a moment when I needed you, and a moment that changed my existence forever. I thought I was forgotten, but it was only that I was blind to seeing the angel right in front of me. What we have.” He gave her a little squeeze. “Is a miracle in its own right.”
She leaned up and kissed him, slow and sweet. And pressed her forehead to his. “And we owe this, us finding each other, to the Historian. I’m just helping move things along.”
“I know.” James tugged her back against him. Held her close.
“We can’t hide what happened tonight. The Council knows we’re back. Will wasn’t able to prevent the humans from capturing Crowley. We have to get him back.”
“I know.”
“And we need the other half of the Original.”
James sighed. “I know.” War was coming, he just wasn’t sure from which corner. This was the quiet before the storm, but they had to live for today. And today they would laugh and talk. He would retreat upstairs with Lilith and make love to her.
Tonight was hours away yet. They could worry about all the rest when it arrived. It was the only way to survive an uncertain existence.
Somehow they would find a way. They would recover and destroy Julius Crowley. They would survive whatever the Council threw their way.
They were together, and that's all that mattered. He had everything he ever wanted, and so much more.
Acknowledgements
A huge thank you to my family and friends editors, Jean and Yelena, my critique group partners Aedyn Brooks and Marissa John, my editors, & the wonderful women at Killion Group, Inc.
I’d be lost without the lot of you.
Lastly, I entered this book into several RWA sponsored contests under a different title. Sometimes it won, sometimes it lost, but I always received an abundance of constructive criticism and encouragement from the volunteer judges that make those contests possible. I can’t express how valuable you’ve all been to me.
Thanks.
Other books by Cara Crescent
The Last Marine
About the Author
Cara Crescent currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her children and three overly dramatic ferrets. When not writing, you can usually find her curled up with a book, engrossed in a movie or playing video games with her best friend.
Please visit her on the web at www.caracrescent.com
Copyright © 2016 Cara Crescent
ISBN: 978-0-9971872-2-9
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The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1) Page 32