“Got it,” he said, concluding any argument from me.
As he suggested, Darius had dedicated time to spend with me outside of our callings. Picnics in the orchards. Swimming at the lake. Late night dinners at whatever café happened to be open after our duties were complete. And at the end of each date we parted ways at my doorstep with only a peck on the cheek. I would go to my room and he would go to his through the appropriate entryway. The perfect gentleman.
“Dang it,” I mumbled beneath my breath, earning a sideways glance from my boyfriend.
Boyfriend? I shook my head at how childish that sounded.
“What was that?” he asked, but he didn’t take his eyes from the road, ever vigilant. Unlike me.
I heaved a heavy sigh. “Nothing.” Is that all we were?
I peered at him through the rain. Muscles flexed in his tense jaw, the black collar of his coat pulled high around his ears. I fought the desire to reach out to him until he stilled, and I followed his narrowed gaze.
Two figures emerged into view. Both carried umbrellas. As they neared, I discerned a shocking difference in the age of the mortal bodies they possessed. One looked no older than twenty with auburn hair and freckles that dotted his pale complexion. Despite his younger face, the demon’s upper torso was freakishly massive beneath his trench coat. His muscles pushed against the wool fabric and stretched tight across his chest.
The other demon was over twice his age, his salt-and-pepper hair styled up and away from his handsome face. A light beard coated his jawline, adding to his strong appeal. One hand shoved deep into his pockets.
Darius cursed beneath his breath. The older demon smiled, stopping less than ten yards away. The younger one halted, drew a knife from his pocket, and checked the sharpness of his blade.
The older demon spoke first. “Greeting, Defenders. My name is Peter. This is—”
“We don’t care who you are,” Darius said in a growl.
The younger demon sneered, but Peter smiled, tipping his head to one side. “I wondered how long it would take you to recognized me.”
“You recognize him?” I asked, shifting closer.
Darius ignored my question, sniffing in disgust. “What you look like on the outside makes no difference. It’s ashes to ashes when we kill you.”
The auburn demon eyed his companion, but turned to Darius. “Strong words for a young Guardian. Where are the others? Do you think you can take us on your own?”
Darius flipped open his folding knife and held it loosely at his side, but before the younger demon could respond to the threat, Peter moved. Twisting with great speed, he slammed his blade into the chest of the demon, catching him by surprise. His umbrella clattered to the ground, his blackened soul wafted away along the wind.
Stunned, we watched Peter pull a black handkerchief from his pocket and delicately wipe the blood from his blade. “You do know me, don’t you, boy? But why would that surprise? How could a child forget his old man?”
My mouth dropped open. “Your old—your father?” My head jerked toward Darius. All color leaked from his face.
“This thing is not my father.” He crouched low, ready to spring.
“Did he just say father?” Laith asked over the coms.
Peter tsked. “Stay where you are.” He turned the sharpened tip of his weapon and placed it over his heart.
I connected to my immortal family. He just killed the other demon. Come to the edge of the town, but no further until we need you.
“Very well,” Laith said, then the coms went silent.
Peter smiled. “I seek an audience with the Guardian of mortals.”
“How elegant.” A familiar sensation tickled my spine as Jonathan came up from behind. He ran his fingers through his rain sprinkled hair. “But please, Peter, don’t kill yourself,” he purred. A wicked smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You have everything to live for, blah, blah, blah.”
Peter stilled. Worry flashed over his features. “The demon traitor.”
“We don’t need your help,” Darius said through clenched teeth.
Jonathan quickly scanned my appearance then shifted his attention. “Maybe not,” he said, retrieving the deceased demon’s umbrella. Peter retreated several steps. Jonathan smirked. “But I’ve become curious with certain topics that have grown in potency and had to see it for myself. Demon suicide. I didn’t know there truly could be such a thing, and yet... here we are.” He flicked his fingers toward Peter.
“Could you blame us?” Peter asked. “Through our sacrifice, and with our master, we have a chance at rebirth. We can never die. We choose that over being trapped within a pendant-sized black hole where their God sends His enemies to torture them for fighting against Him.”
Jonathan blinked back his surprise. “Wow. That’s what they’re telling you?”
I placed a hand over the inky surface of my mother’s necklace. It buzzed warm and alive against my skin. “That’s not—”
But Jonathan stopped my words with a fiery touch and a cautionary look. Peter observed the gesture with narrow eyes.
Jonathan said, “Tell me, Peter, why did you kill your comrade? That is strictly forbidden.”
Peter laughed. “Do you honestly think I’ll be punished? By the time my comrade goes back to the Destroyer and has enough energy to resurface as a physical entity, it could be years until this accident reaches the Master’s ears.” He shrugged. “And by then too much time would’ve passed for him to care. You know his paternal instinct only goes so deep.”
“You’re not kidding,” Jonathan said.
Peter’s attention shifted to Darius, who glared daggers at the demon.
“Why are you still in his body?” Darius asked.
Peter shrugged. “I’ve become fond of it. This one grows better with age. Besides, did you truly miss the bastard?”
Darius’s face broke out into angry red splotches. He spoke low, through clenched teeth. “I miss my mother.”
Something akin to compassion morphed across Peter’s face. “And that is why I seek an audience. I can’t have them find her.”
He waited for a response, but Darius stood frozen on the spot.
“What are you talking about?” I asked for him.
Peter ignored me, looking straight into Darius’s eyes “Your mother is alive, boy. You must get to her. Take her back to your sanctuary.”
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “My mother is dead. You killed her.”
Peter shook his head. “No. I kept her.”
“Demons don’t do that.”
“Don’t we?” Peter asked, giving Jonathan a look.
Jonathan took a hesitant breath and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Sometimes we do. Well, not me, but others do.”
“Why would they do that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “To keep up appearances. If it benefits them. If they are... attracted to them.” The muscles between my brows contracted as I considered my demon. Jonathan’s gaze penetrated my own. You seem so shocked, he said, connecting to my soul. I didn’t keep my wife, but I didn’t kill her either.
I nodded, once again surprised by the humanity of my personal demon.
A look of sadness crossed Peter’s face. “I originally kept her around in hopes that you’d look for her. But then I heard rumors that you’d been taken in by The Three. By then I’d become used to your mother. She’s… resourceful.”
Darius growled. “Shut up.”
“And a fantastic musician—she sings and plays for me whenever I ask her to. I’d even say she genuinely loves me.”
“Shut up.” Darius leaped across the distance and snatched Peter’s weapon from his chest, only to redirect it at his throat. His other hand grabbed a fistful of clothing beneath his neck. “I’ll cut out your throat so you can’t spew your lies any longer.”
Peter smirked at the threat but didn’t retaliate. “What I speak is the truth. I have no reason to lie. And if you kill me, she’ll die for sure thi
s time.”
I pressed my energy outward, engulfing the tangled men. Darius’s anger was violent and tangible. I closed off to him, singling out the demon. Beneath the Fallen’s calm façade, pure fear radiated, but it did not derive from us. He was concerned for his mortal mate—for Emily’s life.
“You care for her,” I said, keeping our connection. “Emily.”
Darius groaned upon hearing his mother’s name out loud. “He does not care for her!” He shook Peter hard once, then closed his eyes.
I delved deeper into Peter’s subconscious. Confusion and then shock darkened his features. He tried to block me from his soul, but I clamped down, solidifying my hold.
A whirlwind of emotion blew within. I sifted between each blurring strand. “It’s you that loves Emily,” I said when I realized a pattern within the chaos. “She’s your world. The only thing that has ever brought you a sliver of happiness. But it’s not complete, because you know deep down no one could love someone who’s taken them from their family—from their own son. Someone like you.”
“Get out of my head, witch.”
11
Break away
Beads of sweat formed upon Peter’s forehead despite the chill of the evening.
“I am no witch,” I said, offended to be compared to the likes of Bailey. “And it’s not your head that I’m reading, but your poor excuse for a soul.” I shut down the connection, pulling away from both men. I took a stand next to Jonathan. Darius shoved the demon away, throwing his dagger to the ground at his feet. He moved to my side.
I grazed Darius’s hand with my own, choosing my words carefully. “What the Fallen says is true. He’s hidden your mother, but he doesn’t know how long she has until the Annihilator finds her. He fears she may have already. He’s willing to risk your life to save her.”
Peter rubbed at his abused neck. “I would risk my own if I thought it would do something, but I would only attract more attention to her whereabouts. They know who I am and they know the Destroyer sent me for you all those years ago. The Destroyer and the other Fallen have never cared for what we do with the mortals we keep if it doesn’t interfere with more important plans.”
He slowly retrieved his blade. “The Destroyer has changed tactics. He’s allowing the Annihilator to collect Fallen support. He won’t force us, but he’s also not stopping her as he has in the past from using blackmail to grow troops. When the new master called, I had to come or she would have suspected.”
“So you left my mother? You son of a—”
“Watch your mouth,” Peter yelled, his face turning a deep shade of red. “Your mother never allows me to cuss around her, and you better not either. Clean up your act and go find her.”
He drew a second knife from his boot. A rubber band secured a piece of paper to the handle. “If you want her to stay alive, you need to get to her soon. Annie will use whatever means to ensure we fight her battle. She’ll locate your mother and she won’t hesitate to use her against you. I’ve written instructions on how to find her. And show her this so she knows I sent you.” He threw the knife with a flick of his wrist. It impaled the dirt only inches from where we stood.
Darius watched Peter with narrowed eyes as he yanked it from the ground.
“And cut yourself with this,” Peter said holding out his other knife.
My heart seized and I half-stepped in front of Darius. “What? No way.”
Peter heaved an exasperated sigh. “I was sent to scout the location of your sanctuary. Do you think I can return to my leader without my companion and not have a great battle to tell? I’d be killed for sure.”
“Not a bad idea,” Darius said. He grabbed my shoulder and directed me to his side.
Peter lifted a brow. “If your mother is found, she has directions from me to run to another hide-away. If that works, you’ll waste precious time trying to locate her.”
Darius took a step forward, but I grabbed his elbow. He waited without looking back until Jonathan pried my fingers away and tucked me into his side. “You need to trust him,” Jonathan whispered in my ear. “Your Guardian knows what he’s doing.”
Darius sauntered to Peter, his gaze never leaving his face. Peter held out his weapon, but Darius grabbed his hand and bent the demon’s fingers tightly over the handle—his knuckles white. Peter grimaced, but only a moment before he steeled the discomfort. With a wicked smile, Darius slid the blade across his palm. The instinct to protect him exploded. Red clouded my vision and I began to shake.
Jonathan held me even tighter. “Control yourself, darling. You don’t want his mother to suffer, do you?”
Darius wrapped his bloody hand around the blade. I could almost feel the steel gouging even deeper into his flesh as he pulled the demon closer.
I took deep, ragged breaths, fighting the anger—the raw emotion to protect what I loved. No, I didn’t want his mother to suffer, and I repeated that fact in my head to maintain control.
Darius drew his face mere inches from Peter. “If this is a trick... if you hurt anyone I love, there will be nothing you can do to hide from me. You saw what she can do,” he said, jerking his head my direction. Peter’s gaze shifted to me. Fear oozed from his soul. “Now that she’s connected to you, she’ll be able to find you, and when that happens, the last thing you’ll fear is her Demon’s Eye.”
He released the knife, propelling Peter away with a powerful blast of energy.
Peter caught himself before falling to the muddy ground. He smiled, but there was a nervous twitch to it. He held up the knife coated in Darius’s blood. “This will make for an excellent story. She will be excited to hear that you’re still weak—I will know otherwise, of course.” He flexed the hand Darius had hurt. “Perhaps I’ll say that I plunged this knife into your gut, just missing your heart, before the others came to your rescue. And I’ll also tell them where your sanctuary lies for the time being, which is…?” His voice trailed off suggestively.
“West, less than fifteen miles from here, just outside of Manchester.”
Peter nodded, sliding the soiled knife in his boot. “I suggest you wait a couple of hours for her to send her spies to verify that information, then move it. But don’t move it anywhere near your mother.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“And keep your activities to a minimum. You draw too much attention to yourselves.”
“That’s not possible,” I said. “But we will protect her.”
Peter smiled. He backed away slowly. “You should thank me for keeping her alive. I didn’t have to.”
“So why did you?” Darius asked.
He paused. His eyes slid to mine. “I’m not sure.” Then he disappeared into the evening fog.
Laith and Elisa arrived at our side. “What’s the plan?” Laith asked.
But Darius only spun on his heel, heading toward the trucks.
“You know it’s probably a trap,” I said, following.
He gave me a sideways glance. “And if it was your mother?”
“I—” My mouth clamped shut; my face burned. “Of course I would go.” There would be no hesitation whatsoever.
He took my hand and together we continued to the waiting trucks.
“We’ll get to her,” I said, sensing the tension that boiled from him.
“You’re not going,” he grumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
“This sounds like a good time to make an exit,” Jonathan said. Before I could turn around, he disappeared.
“Coward,” I mumbled beneath my breath.
Don’t worry, I’ll find you, he said, and he left me to stew.
Fiona and Cedric pulled up in their vehicle. Cedric leaned out the window. “Where are we going?”
“Florida,” Darius said, handing to slip of paper to him. “And only I am going.”
Laith rapped against the hood of the truck. “Come on, man. You should know by now that’s not how things work around here.”
“It’s my mother and no one’s call to make but my own. Ava might be right: this could be a trap. If my mother is alive and in trouble, why didn’t she contact me herself? I’m not risking anyone’s lives over a demon charade. Besides, I’m the most replaceable member of The Three.”
“Replaceable?” My voice rose an octave, but before I could argue further he interrupted.
“There are too many eyes watching. If we all go, it’ll draw attention quickly.”
“But two men wont,” Cedric said. “They expect us as a group, or in pairs of man and woman. Two guys wont flag anything right away. Most lessers don’t even know what we look like.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “This is ridiculous. How can we act like a unified team if Darius runs off by himself, especially with something as important as this?”
But the others didn’t answer.
Elisa placed a soothing hand on my arm. “It’s his mother, so it must be up to him. But I think Cedric is right,” she said, pinning Darius with a stare. “He should go as well.”
Fiona placed a hand along his jaw. “We understand why this is so important to you, but despite what you think, you cannot go unaccompanied. I would feel much better if my husband went on this mission with you. He is a strong warrior.”
“I know he is.” Darius pulled Fiona’s hand gently from his face.
“You are our family. You will not face this alone,” she said.
“Wait.” An idea flashed into my mind. “Aaron!” I called to my angel before Darius could voice his objection—something I knew he would do.
Darius groaned. “Ava, no.”
“Interesting,” Fiona said. Her eyes searched for my friend and previous caretaker.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Aaron materialized within seconds, sitting on the hood of the compound truck. My heart warmed to his familiar face. His deep-green eyes scanned my appearance as rain speckled his messy, reddish-brown hair. He shot from the truck. Taking the umbrella from my hand, he scooped me up into a warm hug, then stepped back to take another look.
“Hello, my Defender. I was worried you had forgotten me,” he said.
Personal Warriors: Book 3 in the Personal Demons series Page 11