Personal Warriors: Book 3 in the Personal Demons series

by Rachel A. Collett

  “We’re having another meeting, of sorts, but not with the council,” he said. “Come with me.”

  He guided me away from the morning workers. I clung to his hands; my legs stumbled to keep up with his long stride. My body ached to rest, but something warned that that would not be possible any time soon. Nausea roiled in the pit of my stomach—if an immortal could be nauseated.

  I hadn’t allowed myself to think it, but now I couldn’t ignore the growing facts any longer. A storm was brewing, on the verge of breaking. The coven leader’s death was only the beginning of something more ominous.

  How deep had Gayle fallen into the pockets of the Destroyer and his twisted mate? Was she the only one involved?

  Darius opened the door to our room and steered me to our bed. My heart hammered, and warmth infused my body when I thought about his obvious motivations.

  My brows pulled together. “Really, Darius, do you think we have enough time to—” But before I could speak another word, he sat on the mattress, pulling me closer. His face nestled into my chest as he tightly wound his arms around me.

  I squirmed, but his hold tightened. “Darius?”

  His muffled voice spoke into the folds of my clothes. “I’m sorry, Ava. I acted… I’ve never felt such a terrible feeling. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’ll never think of your father in a bad light ever again.”

  I blinked several times, unsure of what to do. Whatever I thought was going to happen, this was far from it. “What do you mean?”

  He shifted, turning his face to the side. “I understand. I understand why he took you away. Why he kept you from living this life. This calling… it’s intense.”

  I almost laughed, if not for the seriousness of the moment. Nonsensical joy filled me with such love for this man that I almost cried.

  He pressed the top of his head against my stomach.

  I warmed to his embrace, drawing in his essence. My hands soothed his ruffled hair, then slid to cup his jaw, raising his face to mine. “I’m safe, thanks to you.”

  He relaxed into my arms. My fingers trailed the lines of his impressive shoulders and back, soothing his tensed nerves. I halted over a line of angelic Chords tattooed upon his neck.

  “What does it say?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  He looked up, his eyes holding me in place. “It’s my life story.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Some of it. I don’t feel like my life began until after my dad became possessed. But my real father was so full of hatred and anger, and we were always afraid. That’s not living. Things did get so much better. I guess that’s where I must give Peter some credit, because life did get a lot nicer and a lot more interesting. This is your name.” He pointed to a spot at his chest.

  “No.” I almost laughed, tugging at his shirt.

  He helped me by removing it in one easy swoop. My finger trailed where he indicated, and he closed his eyes.

  “That’s brave of you, to get a name tattooed on your chest—a name of someone you had never met.”

  “Is it? I already knew we were meant to be. It wasn’t until later that I realized how unfair it was to assume you’d just go along with the plan.” He laughed, and the sound traveled along the inside of my heart. “But you taught me.”

  “Would you have had it removed if I hadn’t accepted you?” I traced my angelic name gently with my nail.

  He closed his eyes to the touch. “You would’ve come around soon enough.”

  “Oh?”

  Slowly, his hands slid to my hips. I could hear the smile in his words. “There’s no question.” His fingers dug into the bone, eliciting a shudder. He drew me to him, lifting me easily to his lap. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking my ankles together, trapping him to me, but there was no need.

  His teeth gently grazed my ear, where he murmured a request—a request that shot tremors throughout my body at an alarming pace. His lips trailed my jawline, my neck.

  And I cracked.

  My lips crashed against his as I thread my fingers into his hair. He deepened the kiss, winding his arms behind my back, crushing me to his chest. I gasped, breathing in the scent that was only Darius, and allowed every errant feeling and worrisome thought to fade away into the background. And I welcomed the blissful respite… even if it was for only fifteen minutes.

  26

  Demons, Demons, Demons

  We hurried through the barn doors, already late for whatever this meeting was. The place had recently been re-painted, the lacquer smell blending into that of feed, hay, and manure.

  Violet awaited our arrival on the top of a bale of hay. She pushed off, landing with delicate grace.

  “I’ve invited her. Her insight could be useful,” Darius said, and she beamed.

  She pulled my braided hair over my shoulder. “I’m glad to be of any assistance, if it helps my Ava.”

  Darius opened the hidden door set into the ground and led us down the concrete stairwell.

  It was colder than I remembered. The fluorescent lights and white-washed walls didn’t add any warmth to the space. I wrapped my coat tighter around me as we wound down to the compound prison. Our boots echoed noisily on the steps, announcing our arrivals to those that waited in the center of the room.

  Low light seeped into barred windows and each ten-by-ten cell, but there was no prisoner. Confused I glanced around the room. The remaining Three were there, along with Ray. Then I spotted him.

  Peter sat at the prison guard desk, his feet propped on its top. His head rested back against interlaced fingers. He was the picture-perfect description of ease, but the others glared their discomfort.

  Elisa stepped forward, taking my hand in hers. She opened her mind to me. I’ll ask one time. Did you kill Gayle?

  I shook my head, answering aloud. “Of course I didn’t kill her.”

  She squeezed my fingers, then released them to walk back to Laith.

  “Sit up,” Darius said, kicking the demon’s chair.

  Peter smiled, slowly removing his boots.

  “Why is he not in a cell?” Violet asked, one delicate brow raised.

  Peter exposed a set of straight, white teeth. “Because I’m not a prisoner. I pose no threat and I’ve done no wrong.”

  She glared. “Today.”

  He ignored her comment, and pointed an accusing finger at me. “And you. Stay out of my mind, witch.”

  “I’m not a witch,” I said through clenched teeth.

  He waved away my comment like a bothersome fly. “Witch. Witch killer. Whatever. I’ve come for my wife.”

  My face flushed red. “Why did you let him in?”

  Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t worry, young Defender. I came willingly, but I’m not brave or suicidal. I won’t fight against The Three.”

  “We had to,” Laith said. “He was drawing too much attention.”

  “I was drawing too much attention? I warned you to keep your movements to a minimum. If you would have stayed quiet in your little hideout, this might have been avoided.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  A sadistic smile twisted his features. “They’re coming for you.”

  An awkward silence filled the space. I swallowed against a swollen throat. “Annie?”

  “Word has it, possibly even the big man himself.”

  Elisa gave a start. “The Destroyer? Why?”

  “Once again, your recent activities have merited his attention. He now has an active interest. Fallen are being deployed. If you ask me, you brought this on yourselves.”

  “How long do we have?” Laith asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but if you don’t do something, they will kill you all.” He cocked his head to the side. “Let me have Emily. I can hide her again, or try at least to spare her from the death that is surely coming.”

  Darius’s laugh was coarse. “What? You won’t fight for her?”

  Peter looked at him, surpri
sed. “And lose?”

  “Coward.”

  He shrugged, letting the insult slip off his back like oil. “I have my orders. I’ll be here to fight for my leader. Just don’t make me kill your mother. She’s innocent in all this.”

  “And the others?”

  “I don’t care about the others. Is anyone truly guiltless in your Eden? Most of the mortals are here because they invited us into their lives.”

  I jerked back. “That’s not—”

  “This type of questioning is useless,” Laith said, interrupting. He ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you know of your leader’s plans?”

  “I know nothing of their plans, and I’m the last person they would tell. And don’t think that loser Jonathan will help you. He’s stripped of his ranking. You might as well consider him a lesser.”

  “You came while the Defender and Healer just happened to be gone. Was that a coincidence?”

  “It is.”

  “Then why did you call her a witch-killer?”

  “You didn’t build this prison to keep noise out. Your little haven is full of talk. I believe a phone call was made from the coven.”

  I growled, turning to Fiona. “I thought you said they don’t own phones.”

  She made a face. “I said most don’t own a phone. There are some younger, more contemporary witches who had plenty of time to make a call during the period you couldn’t be found.”

  “You don’t have much to offer us, do you?” Laith said.

  “I’m offering to take Emily away. Other than that, I have nothing to give.”

  Laith smiled. “You know, I think we will call on Jonathan for help. He’s proved very useful in the past.”

  Peter rolled his eyes, looking away.

  “Ava, call your demon. If he killed Gayle, I have a feeling he had another reason than defending your honor. Maybe he knows things that Peter’s unwilling to share.”

  I stepped away from the group, self-conscious of their stares. Closing my eyes, I connected with him. Jonathan, will you come to me?

  “Will I be in trouble?” he whispered in my ear. I whirled. He was already there in his spectral form, yet so real I had to reach out to affirm the solidity of his presence. My fingers slipped through his shoulder as he turned a circle. I dropped my hand.

  Eager anticipation lit his face. “I’m shocked. I didn’t think I’d be welcomed back at all.”

  Peter whistled low. The sound grated on my nerves. “Demons everywhere. An infestation. And you wonder why your sanctuary is so transparent now.”

  I palmed my mother’s pendant. Could it be true? Had my interactions with Jonathan and Violet caused the breakdown of the sanctuary’s powers?

  I looked to Laith, but it was Ray who responded. “I highly doubt that’s the reason.”

  “We’re getting off track,” Laith said. “Jonathan, Peter says there’s an attack coming. Possibly even the Destroyer himself. Do you know anything about this?”

  Jonathan froze, glaring at the demon. “That would make sense.”

  “What would?” I asked.

  “There’s been a decrease of Fallen activity for almost a week. After the Destroyer… had his way with me, I was contacted by the coven.”

  “How were you contacted?” Laith asked.

  “An unsealed letter. I found it intriguing enough to pique my interest. Since then, my attentions have been split.”

  “I’m sure they have been,” Darius said, a snide lilt to his tone.

  Jonathan’s smile was anything but kind. “Forgive me. I’ve also been highly focused on staying alive, but somehow, I’ve managed. I might not have all the answers, but I’m not much use dead.”

  “No, you’re not,” I agreed, placing a soothing hand to Darius’s arm.

  “Agreed,” Fiona added. “Jonathan, do you think the decrease in activity is due to what Peter is saying?”

  “The Fallen has no reason to lie, but he could be omitting certain—”

  “I omit nothing. You know I’m not ranked high enough to know that information. I’m here for Emily alone.”

  Jonathan’s gaze narrowed. He turned away from the Fallen. “I would take what he says as serious. You should move your location as soon as you can.”

  “Can you see the veil from the outside?” Laith asked.

  He trailed a finger through the prison bars. “The light your sanctuary emits comes in and out of focus, but it’s bright and pretty trippy. I found it easily, though I didn’t try to enter. I assume most others wouldn’t unless they’re sure they won’t get… zapped.”

  An awkward silence infused the room. Peter looked around, his confusion transferring to annoyance.

  “Well,” he said. “Did you hear the man?” But when no one answered, he slammed his fist on the desk, his face turning red. “You need to move this sanctuary. Now.”

  Laith smiled. “Peter, thank you for coming. We’ll escort you back to your realm.”

  He held up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “Come with us. Now.”

  “Wait. I just want to keep her safe.”

  Elisa moved toward the stairs. “We will keep her safe.”

  “Then at least let me see her,” he pled.

  Darius’s laugh was callous. “I don’t think so.”

  Peter pinned him with a glare. His black eyes burned like melting tar. “I saved your mother. You owe me.”

  “The only way I’ll let you see my mother is after I tell her what a coward you are, that you’ll kill her when your leader says the word, and after they pry my dead corpse from the ground and toss me into a grave.”

  Peter shot up from his chair. The metal legs scraped against the concrete, but the others were ready for him. Darius and Violet crouched low in front of me. Knives flew from holsters and pulled from pockets. They pointed straight for the demon’s heart. Jonathan’s transparent self circled.

  Peter took in the situation and immediately dropped his aggressive stance. He lifted his chin high. “Very well.”

  He went quietly to the border with The Three surrounding him. Without a backward glance he crossed over into the mortal realm, disappearing completely in the morning fog. Once he was gone, tensions relaxed from the group, but they didn’t completely dissipate.

  I stepped from the veil, my Guardian close behind me. The others followed, their stares pressed against my skin, boring holes in my flesh. I inspected the shield protecting our home. I didn’t know what the demons could see, but the veil hadn’t changed to my view. Frustrated, I turned a circle, peering through the mist.

  It was a beautiful morning. Soon the growing light would chase away the remaining fog and dry the wet dew from the grass. Cows and sheep would meander the fields, happy and content, but I couldn’t appreciate any of it.

  Jonathan appeared in physical form. He cast his eyes about, ever watchful. “Peter left a lot easier than I thought he would.”

  “He didn’t come to cause trouble,” I said.

  “We should go inside,” Darius said, placing a hand to my shoulder. He was on high alert outside our home, his anxiety palpable, but I skirted his touch. I fingered the Demon’s Eye, pressing out with my powers, but felt nothing. Could I somehow be mistaken? Did our enemies have a way of shielding their presence? Were they watching us now?

  I tapped the Demon’s Eye, searching for Hepzibah’s consciousness. “What do you think?” I asked out loud. “Is it safe?”

  “I’d rather not have you out here,” Darius answered.

  “I was asking Hepzibah.”

  A moment later, her response was clear. Yes.

  “Thank you.”

  Darius cleared his throat, but none of them asked the awkward question stirring in the air. Why had I asked the Demon’s Eye? I wasn’t entirely sure. My mother had kept their presence a secret, but could that omission have added to one of the many reasons she was dead? I wasn’t sure, but I wouldn’t make that same mistake. Demons or not, the
y had proven helpful.

  Ray’s voice cut the quiet. “I didn’t want to say this while Peter was here, but from everything I’ve recently studied, a sanctuary can only completely breakdown with a serious breach of security. The veil reacts when there’s contention within. It’s most likely reacting to our recent outbreak.”

  “Outbreak?” I asked.

  Elisa moaned, and Ray reddened.

  “We were going to tell you,” she said, placing a hand on my arm. “When you were gone, some of the residents had their… their own council, to discuss things they were unhappy with.”

  My eyes widened. “What are they unhappy with?”

  But the moment the question slipped from my lips, I knew the answer.

  “Me,” I whispered low. Hurt cast ugly blotches on my cheeks. “They’re unhappy with me.”

  Jonathan smirked, scanning the landscape. “Family issues. How horrible.”

  But there was more than what she was telling me. It traveled along the edges of her mind in an effort to stay concealed.

  I cursed beneath my breath. Annoyance colored my tone. “Bailey was the ring leader.”

  Elisa only nodded.

  Fiona smiled despite the growing tension. “It doesn’t help that you don’t keep that mind-reading thing under check.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they love that new ability of yours,” Jonathan added in a sickly-sweet voice. I glared, but he threw up his hands. “I don’t see the problem. Dump the trouble-makers and leave.”

  I ignored his advice. “Roslyn said she sent Bailey on an errand. Do you think this was it, or did she do it on her own?”

  Fiona picked a leaf from the ground, examining its color. “I don’t know, which is why we can’t leave just yet. Roslyn wants to press charges against the Defender and her demon.”

  Jonathan chuckled beneath his breath. “About that. Don’t you find it interesting that a coven of witches would ask a demon to join in their revelries?”

  “You think they have something to do with Annie or the Destroyer.” A statement, not a question.

  “I think they aren’t as innocent as they pretend, and it’s too conveniently coincidental to be overlooked.”