Personal Warriors: Book 3 in the Personal Demons series

by Rachel A. Collett

  “Do you believe her?” Fiona asked. My gaze shifted to the Healer. The Great White Witch… did the Annihilator mean her? The mother of all witches?

  “Well obviously she lies,” Roslyn said, annoyance heavy in her words.

  I ignored her. She was a more likely candidate than my aunt, but even then, worry ate at my nerves. “Violet, what do you think?”

  Roslyn’s face turned a shade of red. “Why are we asking the demon? Why do we ask them anything?”

  “Violet?”

  Violet cocked her head to the side, considering. “It’s possible she could be lying, but the Fallen have no need to lie—that’s a vice more displayed by a lesser demon. The Fallen love a challenge, and the truth is a far better weapon in most cases.”

  “Have I ever lied to you, Ava?” Jonathan asked, and although his swollen eyes remained closed, the intensity of his words struck me.

  I crumpled the paper in my hands. “No.”

  The next day I sat at the edge of the lake, basking in the glow of the setting sun. I had grown so used to working the graveyard shifts that watching something so simple as the dimming horizon helped to lift my darkened soul, if only for a moment. Torturous thoughts weighed against the very bones in my body.

  I searched the landscape around me. For the comfort of the residents, Jonathan and Violet both had been escorted to the cells beneath the barn until their new home could be finished, which was to be sometime by the end of the week. Their rooms were kept unlocked and made as comfortable as possible, but even then, Jonathan, who was healed sometime in the morning, had disappeared shortly after without so much as a goodbye.

  I took a deep breath, drawing a nonsensical pattern in the dirt. “Typical,” I murmured beneath my breath. It was uncertain whether he had left the sanctuary completely or was sulking somewhere within. For his sake, I hoped it was the latter. Jonathan was more at risk now than ever, but we all were.

  The traitorous scrap of paper tucked in my pocket drew my attention far too many times. The messy scrawl of the Annihilator’s hand burned its image upon the backs of my eyelids.

  The Witch

  I breathed through the anger threatening to take control over all logical emotions. The others progressed throughout the day as they normally did, as if nothing had changed. And maybe nothing had. It seemed traitors and nefarious plots were common in this world. Maybe this reaction of mine was exactly what Annie wanted.

  It was bedtime before I dragged myself from my lakeside watch. A chill settled upon my skin and my bones creaked when I finally stood.

  The trees rustled in the wind, talking to me—whispering truths I already understood and conditions I was ready to accept. Energy grew, pressing against my back even before he could wrap his arms around my waist. I sighed as my temporary Guardian pulled me against his muscular chest. I breathed the aroma that was distinctly Darius.

  “You should be in bed, resting.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep,” I said. And how could I? Not when I knew there was another traitor to take care of—to add to my growing list.

  “You haven’t been seen for hours. You didn’t think I’d be worried?” His breath tickled my ear, sending a shiver up my neck. I nestled closer, enjoying the warmth his body allowed.

  “I knew you would. I hoped you would.”

  He kissed the soft spot beneath my earlobe. “I see.”

  “What’s the ceremony?”

  He paused, his lips grazing my skin. “What?”

  “The ceremony to accept you as my Guardian?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  I sighed. “Can you please just answer?”

  Again, the tension in his arms betrayed his wary reaction, but he didn’t pull away. “It’s not exactly a big production. It’s only ever been done one other time with your mother and father.”

  “Who would perform it?”

  “All the remaining immortals of The Three. It’s not only a bonding between man and woman, but a pact with the whole group.”

  “Well, that’s awkward.”

  “Only the ceremony involves them. To my understanding, a celestial and mortal witness must be present, but the rest is…” He pulled away, pacing toward the waters of the lake. He knotted the top of his hair in a tight fist, and even though he tried to mask his true emotions, frustrated energy pulsed from him. “Why are you asking these questions?”

  “I thought that would be fairly obvious.”

  He turned to face me. “You want to marry me?”

  I nodded but didn’t speak. I held out the crushed note in the palm of my hand. He took it, a question in his eyes. He uncrumpled it, and his complexion paled in the moonlight. He watched me warily as I explained where it had come from.

  “So you believe the Annihilator? That one of the witches betrayed your mother?”

  I shrugged. “I can’t ignore it.”

  “You should let Fiona handle it.”

  “I—” But I couldn’t do that. Not if there was even a small possibility that she was the witch Annie referred to. “I have to do this, Darius. It’s personal, just as it was for you when it came to your mother.”

  He pursed his full lips, but before he could argue I took a step closer. “I want your help. Not Fiona’s.”

  “You can have my help, but what does this have to do with us getting married?”

  “After this last run-in with the Destroyer, I don’t think it’s smart for us to not be the strongest we can be. We need to be a whole undivided unit.” Darius looked away, avoiding eye contact, and my heart dropped. “I thought you’d be please.”

  “Why would I be pleased? You know I want to marry you. To be bonded to you. But not out of a sense of duty.”

  “I already told you that I love you. And what reason is there to wait any longer?”

  “Are you doing this out of love?”

  “Of course.” But guilt caused the blood to rush to my face, negating my words. “It’s not the only reason but…” I growled out a breath. “Fine. Part of it is our responsibility. We owe this to the mortals we protect, to The Three, and the God we serve.”

  “This is not what I envisioned. This is not normal.”

  “Normal? Really?” I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. “And you are the picture-perfect example of normal, right?”

  “Ava—”

  “Even then, when have I ever done anything that’s normal? I collect knives and have demons for friends. Dreams of a fairytale wedding have never been a goal.” I heaved a heavy sigh then cupped his tensed jaw, peering into my favorite pair of amber-colored eyes. “If you want some gigantic ceremony and for us to invite all of our family and friends, then I’ll do it. For you. But my invite list will be really small.”

  He huffed a laugh, pulling my hands from his face. “I don’t need something big. I just want this to be done for the right reason.”

  “The right reason is in there with all the others. I see no need to drag it out further.”

  “Very well.” He smoothed out the crumpled note, folding it nicely. “Then my answer is no.” And he walked away.

  My mouth opened and closed with the shock of his rejection. “Wait, what?”

  He did not turn around. “I’ll help you with this issue,” he said holding up the paper, “but I will not marry you.”

  Rejection stung like a slap to the face. Before I knew what I was doing, I had caught up to him. I tried to yank him back, but his energy redirected my touch and it slid away. He peered at me from over his shoulder.

  I glared. “What do you mean, no?” But before he could even answer, words spewed from me like a broken faucet. “How could you say no after all that’s happened? You drugged me, dragged me here to this compound, became my temporary Guardian… Oh, but now you want things to be done for the right reasons?”

  “Yes.”

  I stomped my foot. “Are you kidding—”

  Eyebrows raised, he watched my childish response. “Ava, you had no idea of what you we
re destined for. Of what was taken from you. You needed—had the right—to choose whether or not you wanted this life. You could have left at any time.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He blinked. “Yes, and I would have accepted it. You still can, but you needed to be given that choice. I stand by my decision.”

  “So you can make these important, life-altering decisions, but when I do it, it’s not good enough?”

  “No… not when it comes to a bond that’s supposed to be eternal.”

  A scream escaped my lungs. Without thinking, I clenched my hands at my side. “Are you kidding me?” I beat against his chest, surprised at my own reaction, and he let me.

  “I will not accept your proposal.”

  A breath squeaked from my lungs. “How dare you! I did not propose to you!”

  Darius tipped his head. His brows drew together in confusion, but he remained unmoved. “You can be mad at me all you want. I’m doing the right thing.”

  “The right—” Red exploded in my vision. I shoved him as hard as I could, but my hands didn’t budge him even an inch. Violent power grew within, my breaths deepening in intensity. I struggled to contain the fire that raged within.

  Darius stepped back, drawing his own power. “I won’t fight you, Ava.”

  I screamed, letting the energy rip from me. He rotated away from the hit, too fast for me to target. His voice came from behind me. “Is this making you feel better?”

  I dropped, spinning low on the spot, missing him completely. I growled through my frustration. Would I ever learn? Every attack was deflected, every emotional sling of my power was absorbed. Traitorous tears threatened from the corners of my eyes.

  Pain infused his features as he watched me. “Go home, Ava. Go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning, okay?”

  Hiding my projection, I grabbed his wrist and twisted. He spun through the air, but landed quickly, his hands flying out to gather my energy. It sucked from me leaving behind a raw mess. And then it hit me. A grief and love so strong that it brought me to my knees. I choked back a sob.

  Suddenly, Darius was in front of me, his hands cupping my face, speaking words to me, consoling me in ways I didn’t deserve. “I’m so sorry, Ava.” He soothed, brushing back my wild, wind-blown hair. “Don’t be mad at me. Don’t hate me.”

  A chill overpowered my emotional frame and I shook beneath his touch. “I love you,” I breathed, my voice less than a whisper.

  I had already confessed as much to him, but even then, I had been careless—lied to even myself at the depth of my affection.

  “I know,” he said, reassuring me. “It’s okay.”

  “No.” I took his hands from my face.

  Every muscle of his body tensed, his worried gaze pierced through me. He deserved so much more than my clinical, careless reasons to be bonded, but to tell such a truth meant exposing one of the deepest most vulnerable parts of me.

  The intensity between us was overwhelming. I swallowed down the lump of guilt and fear that had lodged itself into my throat. “I can’t live without you.”

  His brows pinched together as he regarded me. “What?”

  “That’s what I found out. This whole time, everyone kept pressing me to find a mate, but it wasn’t until you told me you would leave if I chose another that I realized…” My voice trailed off. I shook my head as frustration clouded my mind. I wasn’t doing this right. “When you were gone all that time looking for your mother, I thought I would go insane, I missed you so much. Then, that day on the beach when you fought Grayson, when I thought I could be taken from you, you were my strength. You were the reason I was able to do what I did.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it with a snap. I groaned, lowering my head to his chest. His heart thundered beneath my touch. “I can barely breathe—to think of you no longer in my life—because it is you, Darius.” Steeling my nerves, I met his gaze, fisting his sleeves in a tight grip. “I choose you. I need you.”

  He crushed me against him in a tight embrace, and like a twitter-pated fool, my heart relished the act. His lips met mine and my arms wrapped around his neck. Warmth flooded through me as his soul opened to mine. I finally understood in a dizzying whirlwind of passion the reason for his initial rejection. He didn’t just want to be accepted. He needed to be loved—equally yoked in devotion, desire, and duty. And I would give that to him. Even better, I wanted to give that to him. All of me.

  And I would.

  20

  A Promise of Forever

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” My aunt held me at arm’s length, examining every detail of my face.

  Darius stood behind me, a silent sentinel to such an embarrassing examination, but I held firm.

  “Yes.”

  Elisa stepped forward, wrapping me in a tight embrace. “If you’re sure.”

  “Why are they acting so surprised?” I looked around the library to the others.

  Laith chuckled, his deep voice reverberating within his chest. “I don’t think they are.”

  Laith and Cedric hadn’t responded at all to the announcement that Darius and I were ready to be bonded, only sat back watching as their mates peppered me with maddening questions.

  Did I want a big ceremony? Did I need a dress? Who would I want as a witness? When did we want to proceed?

  “Tonight,” I said, interrupting, “I want it done tonight.”

  Elisa stammered, but Fiona only laughed out loud. “So much like her mother.”

  “Through and through,” Cedric said. “But have you considered the residents? Mortal traditions are important to so many here. They may be put-off at not being a spectator to something so huge.”

  Heat ignited my face. “But—”

  “Rachel and Alexander didn’t have a public ceremony,” Elisa said.

  Cedric nodded. “True.”

  Darius cleared his throat, squeezing my shoulder. “We’d prefer it to be private. We could always announce it with a small celebration when things calm down a bit.”

  I raised a hand in a helpless demonstration. “I don’t really care. I just want it done tonight.”

  “Very well,” Fiona said. “The garden should make for a private enough meeting place. Will you allow Elisa and me some quick preparations?”

  I sighed, smiling. “Of course.”

  “Perfect.” She clapped her hands together, the sound ricocheting off the bookshelves. “I suggest you men get started,” she said over her shoulder as she dragged me from the room. Elisa opened the double-doors following us.

  “What about Violet?” I asked as we neared my room.

  Elisa answered. “She’s looking for Jonathan. I think she worries…”

  “That he’ll come to you in the night,” Fiona finished for her. “She doesn’t trust him not to soil you with his demonic ways.”

  I huffed a laugh, my face heating. “He wouldn’t.” But even I could hear the doubt in my own words.

  Fiona hummed. “Perhaps it is a good thing this is happening now.”

  I didn’t argue.

  Elisa took a detour to her room, leaving me to the commands of Fiona, who tugged out my ponytail, gently pushing me in the direction of the bathroom. By the time I had finished with a quick shower, Elisa had returned flush-faced, producing a white gown more beautiful than I had ever seen.

  “I’ve been holding this for you. I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “It’s not a traditional wedding gown. This is very simple and flowy.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice filled with awe. “But will I be the only one in a dress?”

  She smiled, tracing a finger down the side of my face. “You’ll be the only one anyone looks at tonight. What we wear is unimportant.”

  “How do you know it will fit me?” I asked in a whisper, gently touching the delicate material.

  She pshed beneath her breath. “You really think I need to measure you?”

  There was a closet full of clothes that s
tood testimony to that. I shook my head, unable to speak. They both worked miracles on my hair. drying it until it shone, then curling every last strand. They weaved it into an intricate braid, pulling it to the back of my head. Makeup was applied, but minimally.

  When I stepped into the dress, the lace fabric came down low in the front, exposing more cleavage than I had ever displayed. It hugged my curves to the waist then draped to the ground in a light, soft material. I rejected the shoes, terrified of the three-inch heels they had brought to me, and blushed pink when they guided me to the mirror to see their work. I inhaled deeply, shocked at the woman staring back at me. I awkwardly pulled up at the neck line.

  “Give me a break, Ava. It’s not that low.”

  They double-checked the hallway before preceding me from the room. Just as we passed the double entry doors I froze. Jonathan stood outside, a ghostly white figure in the night. I hesitated in my steps then went to him, but he put a hand out to stop me just before I could reach for the handle.

  “Don’t open the door,” he said. “I cannot come in.”

  “Why—” I scanned the entrance, searching for the reason for the impediment. “Why not?”

  He swallowed hard, his eyes trailing the shape of my body and the length of the dress. “Because—I will kill him.”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared at me through the windows, struggling to find his composure but failing.

  “I knew you would choose him. I always knew. I just…” He shuddered, his skin even more pale than I thought imaginable. I could feel the presence of Elisa and Fiona as they stood behind me, but they didn’t speak. Slowly Jonathan backed away from the compound. Then turning, he sprinted away toward the fields, disappearing within seconds.

  My heart sank, but it was not broken.

  Fiona interrupted the silence. “He’ll be alright. Even he knew this was coming.”

  After a moment, I nodded. “Yes, he knew.” But that didn’t make the shock at the hurt in his eyes any less painful.

  “He’ll come back,” Elisa said, answering the silent question that turned my stomach in knots. “Do you still want to go forward with this ceremony?”