Personal Warriors: Book 3 in the Personal Demons series

by Rachel A. Collett

  I pished beneath my breath. “No disrespect, huh?”

  Fiona sighed dramatically. “We’ve been over this, Gayle. This is a sanctuary. It is a blessing in itself.”

  Gayle held out her palm as if testing the temperature of the room. “And yet his energy remains. He had more demons than you think, Mother. You wouldn’t want that infection to spread to someone else.”

  “I think the room should be given to Cheryl,” Fiona said, ignoring Gayle’s comment. She looked to me, hopeful. “She’s requested to be the sole provider for Yvette.”

  Shock infused my words. “Really?”

  “Yes. They’ve grown close, and since Madelyn and Gerald are about to become busy with their new little one, it would make sense. Like yours, there is an adjoining suite to this one that can be used as a nursery. My grandson used it as a storage facility.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her how creepy that sounded, but luckily Gayle had no fear of saying it.

  “Heavens, no. Only someone spiritually adept and strong should ever take over this room. Leave the mortal woman and child where they are. The garden has special healing properties. They will require them.”

  Fiona seemed to process this piece of information.

  “Besides, what if you retain another healer?” Gayle asked. She opened several drawers, inspecting the leftover medicinal supplies.

  “There’s no one here that possesses that additional strength. Benito refused to take on an apprentice.”

  Gayle hummed. “You know I can do more than just see auras.”

  Fiona’s brows pinched together. “You?’

  “Why look so shocked, Mother? I’ve studied modern medicine for years. I find the practice often goes hand in hand with my special ability.”

  “Auras?” I asked, interrupting. “I thought that was a sham.”

  “No, it’s real,” Fiona said. “Although, there are many that fake the ability.”

  Gayle heaved an annoyed sigh. “Unfortunately, there are. But I can see the energy around any living being. Their mood, physical well-being, or simply who they are. I can see sickness, infection, and hidden physical ailments. They all present themselves in colors.”

  “Seriously?” My brow jumped high on my forehead.

  Gayle smiled, examining the room with a measured eye. “It’s how I found your sanctuary. It’s like a beacon of light. It’s never been able to hide from me.”

  I smirked, placing a hand on one hip. “What’s the color of my aura?”

  “Sorry.” She flicked her fingers at my question. “I don’t do on-call parlor tricks.”

  “Convenient,” I said, unimpressed. “An ability that no one can verify truly exists.” But there was a way I could know for sure that what she said about her gifts was true.

  I concealed a smile as I pressed outward with my own powers, but before I could connect with Gayle’s soul, humor touched upon a strand of awareness between us.

  “You have got to get that in check,” Gayle said. With a wave of her hand my connection vanished. My breath left me in a verbal whoosh.

  I grunted, unimpressed, and stood next to my aunt. She examined my face, an unknown question lingering in her eyes.

  “I’ll have to think on your proposal,” Fiona said, brushing her wild hair away from her neck. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had an active witch on the premises. I’m not sure how the residents would respond to one.”

  “Oh please. They’re all witches and warlocks.”

  Fiona shrugged. “That’s not how they see it.” She opened the door—an indication for us to leave her grandson’s suite.

  Gayle swept from the room. “I’ll check on Madelyn. Her aura is radiating white. A baby girl will grace us with her presence before long.”

  “How do you know the baby—?”

  “I always know the sex of a fetus before it’s born.” She turned to Fiona. “With or without me, this sanctuary will welcome another witch into its realm whether your people are ready or not.” She spun on her heel and sauntered down the hallway.

  I watched her retreating form. “She’s—”

  “Intense,” Fiona interrupted. “Believe me, I know.”

  I shrugged. “I like her better than Bailey.”

  “That’s not saying much.” A small smile lifted the corner of Fiona’s mouth. “But I believe Gayle would be good for this place. Witches aren’t all that bad, you know.”

  “What?” I asked, my brows furrowed as I peered over my shoulder.

  She nodded, indicating Gayle. “Witches. They’re not so bad. I feel like I’ve been unfair in how you may have initially perceived them. All that you’ve seen and heard of them has put them in an unfavorable light, I know, but most of them are rather fantastic.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “I gathered them together for a reason. Combined, they carry a special power—a bond that unifies them, creating a power never seen by common mortals. They are capable of great good. They can increase the bond of a community, even outside of their own, heal a land once deemed as desolate, and mend a soul thought past redemption. I have witnessed their strength time and time again, and when I do, I’m reminded of why I initially thought covens were a good idea.”

  “Then why do you seem so…”

  “I’m hard on them because of the choices that they’ve made. I expect more of them because of their knowledge. It’s tough love, I guess you could call it.”

  She laughed at my confused expression. “Once you get to know more of them, from all over the world, you’ll understand what I mean. And by the way, I didn’t want to give the room to Cheryl.”

  “Oh good,” I said, releasing a sigh of relief.

  Fiona pinned me with a cautionary glare. “I did it to pique Gayle’s interest. If I’d have asked her outright, she would’ve made me wait for an answer—dragged it out for performance’s sake. She’s a bit dramatic.”

  “I see.”

  She moved down the hallway towards her room. “For Cheryl and Yvette, we plan on knocking out the wall to the next room and creating a larger suite for the two of them.”

  “She’d like that,” I said.

  “I too have affection for the child. I’d like to keep her close.”

  She knocked on the door of Cheryl’s room, and Cheryl answered with a warm greeting.

  Yvette poked her head between the side of her body and the frame. “Lady Healer!” She pushed past Cheryl to wrap Fiona’s waist in a near-violent embrace.

  A smile twinkled in Cheryl’s eyes. “Yes darling, it sure is.”

  Fiona patted Yvette’s fire-engine red hair. “Are you busy?”

  “We were just done with lessons.”

  “Wonderful,” She lifted the child from her leg. “Would you allow me to spend some time with my favorite redhead in the garden?”

  “Of course. You never need to ask. Yvette, honey, be a good girl and go play in the Healer’s garden, but don’t get into the fountain again.” Yvette groaned a complaint. “I’ll come get you for dinner, and then maybe we can talk Maddie into giving us ice cream again.”

  Yvette halted in her protest and inhaled. “Yes! She makes the best ice cream ever!” And she ran back out the back door that led into the garden.

  Fiona smiled complacently and followed.

  Cheryl let me into the new space she would now share with Yvette as her permanent guardian. My heart filled near to breaking as I viewed pictures of flowers, plants, and colorful insects that covered the walls. Potted flora and children’s book lined the shelves. Payton’s aura—if there was such a thing—radiated the place, filling it with residual love.

  In addition to the original décor, schoolbooks stacked neatly on a desk. Yvette’s colored pictures and classwork plastered the door. The room smelled of lilac.

  “Where’s Darius today?” Cheryl examined my face. Worry wore in her eyes. “I didn’t see him at all. Normally he stops in to say hello.”

  “He does?” I asked, but she only nodded.
“He’s on—a special assignment.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Without you?”

  A pang of resentment resurfaced at her question, and I couldn’t answer. I took a deep breath and fell to Cheryl’s waiting bed, smothering my face into her comforter.

  “You look exhausted.” The mattress shifted as she sat next to me.

  “I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel exhausted,” I said.

  Cheryl laughed. “That’s right. You’re one of The Three. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be affected. I’d imagine you’re still suffering growing pains.”

  “But what about you?” I twisted my head and looked into her blue eyes, the exact shade of her son’s. Another bout of guilt ripped through me. “Cheryl, I’m so—”

  “Stop it. You can’t keep apologizing for something you had no control over.” She laid her hand on my head then tugged at the band that held my hair. Her fingers pulled through the mess. “You did not kill my son.”

  “But I’ve befriended the one that did.”

  Cheryl heaved a heavy sigh. “This world you’re a part of is complicated for sure, but I’ve come to terms with it.”

  I sat up, pinning her with a doubtful stare.

  She smirked. “That doesn’t mean I want to go have dinner with the reformed demon, but I have forgiven him. And now I have a purpose again. Yvette already knows fears and has seen evils that Ian could never have even imagined. I want her to see the good in life as I was able to show my son.”

  “How can you forgive so easily?”

  “Nothing about it was easy. But my understanding of God has helped.”

  I gazed out the bedroom window that displayed a stunning segment of the Healer’s garden. Vibrant colors of purple, red, orange, and yellow painted the lush green landscape but had little effect on my gloomy perspective. “What has God helped you understand?”

  “That there is purpose to all things.” She patted my hand, drawing my attention. “It’s amazing how little you know of the God you serve. You need to work on that.”

  I flopped back down to her mattress, grumbling an unintelligible response.

  She nudged my arm. “Isn’t there something you have to get to?”

  I shrugged. “We’re in a new area. I have yet to receive a vision, but I’m sure one will come soon.”

  “You’re the Defender. I doubt your time is ever your own anymore.” She smiled. “Much like a mother.”

  “Or a policeman,” I grumbled.

  “Speaking of which. Don’t you have to take a certain demon her dinner?”

  Puffy clouds hid a warm sun, casting me in temporary shadow. I rested my head in the palms of my hands and gazed at the green canopy of leaves above. The breeze tickled my skin, breathing through my favorite white pajama shorts and tank top. My bare feet savored the soft feel of the fleece blanket beneath me, lulling me into peaceful meditation

  My eyes flashed open. There was no cry of birds or other animals, no crunch of leaves. No sound warned of his arrival, but I knew he was there.

  “My mother used to do this,” I explained to the presence that ambled near.

  “I see,” Jonathan said.

  I waited for him to settle next to me. His sigh reverberated within my chest. The sides of our arms touched, but the dream dulled the fiery energy that would have been there if our contact had been real.

  But Jonathan was real when he entered my dreams. The connection we shared allowed my subconscious thoughts to be another way of communication between us—which was why I had to be careful.

  He watched me curiously. “So, Darius left without you?”

  “You know he did.”

  I closed my eyes again as the sun popped through a gap in the clouds, bathing me in its light. Heat warmed my skin. Jonathan played with the end of my hair, gently sweeping the blunt tips across my face. I swatted him away.

  “So, you finally come visit me.”

  He stilled. “It’s become difficult.”

  “To what?”

  “To redefine who I am. Who we are. You don’t belong to me, but yet, I belong to you.”

  “We’ve been over this,” I said in a growl. I turned to my side and propped up on my elbow. Jonathan matched my position. A wicked smile lit up his onyx eyes, but I refused to be distracted. “You’re not mine, I just—”

  “But I am yours,” he said, leaning closer, and I froze. Our lips were mere inches apart. “More so than you think.”

  He slid a finger along the chain of my pendant, his touch skimming my neck. Fiery goosebumps erupted along my skin. I caught his hand before it could trace below my neckline.

  He tsked, then pried away his fingers. “You always ruin my fun.” He gently picked up the black stone, examining it at different angles. “This is such a curious artifact,” he said, gazing into the Demon’s Eye.

  “You think it has something to do with the Eye?”

  “Undoubtedly.” He dropped it to the blanket. “But I still don’t understand what causes our attachment to be so strong. I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never experienced before, which is why I once mistook it for love…” His voice trailed off, his attention lowering to my lips.

  Heat rose into my face as his eyes devoured me. The current between us electrified. Confusion waged war with excitement.

  I don’t want this. I don’t want to be with Jonathan, my heart cried.

  An image of Darius flashed through my mind, but before I could react, another thought took over, pressing all other emotions to the side.

  But this would be perfect—no longer responsible for an unwanted and unprepared for calling. She would descend along with her Fallen. Her fall would be the window of opportunity needed…

  I inhaled a sharp, loud breath, realizing these thoughts were not my own. I rolled away from Jonathan and into a low crouch. I reached for my knife, but I only wore my nightclothes. Jonathan was at my side in an instant.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes shifting from me to where I scanned the thick line of trees.

  My heart beat at a breakneck pace. “We’re not alone.”

  His brows cinched together. “Are you not wearing your dreamcatcher?”

  My face paled. “No. I—I wanted you to come whenever you needed—”

  Soft laughter mixed with a sudden burst of wind that blew through the thick leaves.

  “Who’s there?” I asked, even as my confidence drained from my heart.

  Nikolaos emerged from behind a tree, more transparent than the solid form of Jonathan at my side. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end.

  Jonathan hissed in anger, but before I could respond, he grabbed my arms and gave me a violent shake. “Wake, Ava!”

  13

  A Debt Paid

  My eyes flashed open, my breathing ragged and shallow. Fear in the form of sweat dripped from my forehead and down my neck. I leaped from my bed to splash cold water on my face.

  My reflection was less than human, pallid and ghostly. I scrubbed at my cheeks, then breathed heavy breaths into the cold hand towel.

  Nikolaos had entered my dream. Like Jonathan all those months ago, he had found a way in. A chill shot through me. I threw the towel to the ground and stormed to my bed.

  The moon shone through the gaps in the curtains, lighting my bedroom in an unnerving glow and illuminating my dreamcatcher upon my nightstand. Even though I was wide awake, I slid the token over my head, gripping it to my chest.

  I knew I should tell the others about the invasion, but it was the middle of the night. I would have to wait until morning.

  I walked the distance to Darius’s door and found it unlocked but still empty. Sorrow washed over me. I leaned my head against the frame.

  I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, Darius had said. There wasn’t a day that passed when I didn’t remember his confession.

  My heart ached. I missed him, now more than ever. He wouldn’t mind if I woke him after such a nightmare. He would scold me for being foolish an
d sleeping unprotected, but he would be kind and would even comfort me.

  But he wasn’t here.

  “I’m so tired of being alone,” I said to nobody. A tear slid down my cheek, but I quickly dashed it away. “Darius, you are never allowed to leave without me again. Ever.”

  I climbed to the center of his bed and slipped beneath his sheets, dragging his comforter to my chin, but I didn’t fall back to sleep. I inhaled deeply as a smell unique to him wafted from the blankets: a mixture of deodorant and soap. I took in another intoxicating breath and settled even deeper into his pillow. Wide-eyed, I stared at the bare ceiling, my thoughts just as vacant.

  Several minutes later, a soft click came from my bedroom, then the energy shifted. Quietly I rolled off his mattress and tiptoed into my room, not wanting to be caught in Darius’s bed.

  A familiar shadow paused at the threshold. I sighed in relief, glad for the company even though she was out of her locked cell, again. “You can come in, Violet.”

  “You’re beginning to sense me so easily now.” Violet smiled as any pleased parent would. Her teeth flashed white, though her face remained shadowed. She wore a small, cream colored nightgown that fell mid-thigh and matched my own. How long had it taken her to convince Hector to add it to her growing wardrobe? She walked barefoot along the walls, her finger following the path of a single vine. “Madelyn is in labor.”

  “Oh,” I said, releasing a heavy breath. “Am I needed?”

  “If you were, I highly doubt they would send me.”

  “Maybe I should go to them.”

  “No.” Violet halted her steps, her finger poised over a painted flower. “It’s kind of a private thing, isn’t it? Giving birth.”

  “I suppose so.”

  A strange sensation crawled up my spine, but I ignored it. I went across the room and searched through the books on my shelf. “I thought you’d be proud of me. I’ve had some free time to read.”

  It took me a moment to scan through the titles in the dark, but I found the novel. By the time I had turned back, Violet was at my bedside, hovering over my nightstand and the pictures of my parents.

  I took a step, but halted when I saw my drawer open.