by JL Madore
Austin laughed. “You don’t know the half of it yet.”
“But she will,” Zander said. “We’re a bit of an acquired taste, I’m afraid.”
“As much as I’m enjoying this outdoor face-plant, bonding. I think my cheek is frozen to the ground.”
Zander grabbed Kyrian’s elbow and gestured for Phoenix to get the other side. The two of them hauled Kyrian onto his feet and steadied him while Cassi hugged him and hid her face in his neck. Austin hadn’t realized how tall Cassi was until seeing the two of them together.
“We have a meeting to get to,” Zander said, testing Kyrian’s ability to stand on his own. “You good to travel?”
Kyrian opened his eyes and looked around at the group. His gaze grew glassy a moment before his nostrils flared and he eased back. His gaze locked on the woman in his arms and his massive wings unfurled. With a ferocity Austin knew well, Kyrian scooped Cassi into his arms and practically ran toward the clubhouse.
A general chuckle of understanding rumbled amongst Zander and his men as they watched the exodus. “You got twenty minutes, max,” Zander called. “Don’t make us come in there to get you. Your beast won’t take it well.”
Kyrian had won the fucking life lottery. As he and his garrison escorted Cassi back to Castle Wandread to address her subjects, he held his mate close to his hip. She’d chosen him and the laws he stood for over her father and the expectations that she’d bore so long. Austin and Zander had rallied and swung the balance his way, and he’d never fucking forget it. There were still details to work out, and Danel, Brennus, and maybe a few other of his brothers weren’t too pleased, but their trepidation would ease as they got to know Cassi.
There was time. A lifetime.
“Where have you been?” Emma descended the crumbling stone steps from the rooftop, flanked by five, well-armed Dimme soldiers.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Zander said. “A pressing situation came up and we got delayed. We’re here now, so let’s get this party started.”
Cassi nodded and stepped away from them.
Kyrian wanted to grab her and pull her back. The urge was possessive and dominant. He didn’t want to smother his female but man, how did Zander rein this instinct in?
Badly. He chuckled to himself and vowed to do better.
Cassi strode toward the small dais where Kyrian nearly lost his head not so long ago. Tight on her six, he trailed her more on instinct than decision. It felt as if he was tethered to her and couldn’t allow more than three feet between them. Yeah, that could be a problem.
He settled behind her and to the right, so his dagger hand was free to defend her in the blink of an eye. Zander joined them on stage, while the twins, Brennus, and Bo took crowd control and Hark positioned himself along the roof for sniper support. Looking out upon the courtyard, he couldn’t get over how far they had all come since the night they’d stood there last.
He blinked fast and fought not to play the part of the pansy-ass weeper in this stage performance. Thank you, Lady Divinity, with all my heart and soul. With everything I am, have ever been, and ever will be, I am blessed to serve you.
Cassi looked out over several hundred soldiers, hunters, and citizens and drew a deep breath. “Stryker always said that every storm eventually runs out of rain.”
She smiled down at Dougal, Sabine, Edmund, and two little blonde mini-me copies of their mother, who stood front and center. “Here in Hell, that is particularly comforting when the endless days of acid drips from the sky and traps us within a decaying castle. Some days, it feels more like a tomb than a home and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way.”
“Get to the point,” Thrash said, rolling her eyes.
Cassi looked like she might respond but thought better of it and continued her address. “Father was a strong and passionate male who fought for what he believed the Shedim needed. He used cunning and brutality to exact results and blood was shed because of it. He loved you as much as he loved this place and his position as your Master—I don’t.”
The crowd shuffled, looking confused. “I love you all more than anything. More than this castle. More than our reputation as cruel, powerful Darkworlders. More than the way of life we’ve always lived. And to that end, I want more for us.”
She held her hand out to him and Kyrian took it, moving to her side. “A crazy thing happened while Kyrian of Thebes was held as our prisoner. I learned that the Watchers of the Gray are far more than the nightmare tales we’ve been told since time began, just as Kyrian learned that Shedim are much more than a dominant demon species bent on killing humans and taking over the realm.”
“Says you,” Thrash said. “Sounds good to me.”
Cassi nodded. “I suppose it does to you, and to many of you assembled. But I want a different future. I’ve lived this life and I’m tired of fighting every moment. Instead of joining the rebellion and targeting Nephilim garrisons around the world, I brokered another alternative. For those who stand behind Stryker’s way, I introduce his other daughter, Emma—”
“Thrash,” she snapped.
“Stryker’s other daughter, Thrash,” Cassi corrected. “As daughter of a Shedim Master and the Dimme Queen, she holds considerable strength in the Darkworld. If you wish to stay here at the castle, join the rebellion, and fight the way Shedim always have, I leave her as your Master. If, however, you wish to trust in a new life in the Human Realm, I shall serve as your Mistress e’ermore, providing you with peace and opportunities never before available to the citizenry of our species.”
“What?” someone yelled from the back. “And live out our days hiding who we are to fit into a world that loathes us?”
“Humans are mindless cattle,” someone else said. “They wouldn’t know demons lived among them, if they had one chewing on their neck.”
Cassi offered them a patient smile. “The decision is yours and know that I love you all, no matter your decision.”
Kyrian read the faces of the crowd and his gut tightened. Cassi was looking at fifty percent support at most. Losing the faith of her people would cut her soul deep. His beast pulled at its tether, fighting to unfurl his wings and crack some heads.
He locked himself down and hoped he was wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Danel stayed to the shadows, concealed by a parked, black van and a blown streetlight. The group gathering across the street swayed a little as his stomach turned. His leather slicker creaked as he leaned a shoulder against the building until things steadied. He wasn’t sure whether he was more nauseated by two-weeks of pounding back anything on the bar rail, or the one-hundred and forty-six Shedim who’d gotten a fucking get-out-of-Hell-free card.
Was this really the reward for millennia of servitude?
Shedim scum create weapons that negate Nephilim immortality, slice and dice Tanek like he’s nothing, and start a Darkworld rebellion . . . and instead of reducing their species to dust, Zander grants them immigration and sets them up all comfy-cozy, in their own back yard.
What. The. Fuck. Sumerian?
“Hey D.” Kyrian eased up the sidewalk and gave him a hairy eyeball once-over. He stopped at the edge of ambient light, his shadow swallowed by the darkness. “Surprised to see you here. You tight, my brother?”
Not even a little. Danel met the guy’s cool, green gaze. “How do you stand yourself, Greek? Sleeping with the enemy is a fucking cliché. Out of all of us, I can’t believe you cashed in your code for Darkworld cunt.”
Kyrian’s wings flared and his fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists. “You’re polluted, Persian. How about you go sleep it off or make yourself useful somewhere else?”
“Not tired.” Danel held up his useless meat-stump. “And not much use these days—you know—without my dagger hand.”
Danel anticipated the Greek’s wince and shift of gaze. It had fast become the go-to reaction with his warrior brothers when he brought up his Shedim-given handicap.
“That was her father, D. Not Cassi.”
“Right. But it was your darling Cassi who tried to kill you—twice—and ordered a hit on the Sumerian’s precious Austin, right? That’s a ball-gnashing conflict of interest, my man. We seem to be drowning in them these days.”
Kyrian pulled out one of his custom tobacco cigarettes and lit up. After a deep inhale, he blew out a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke and his wings swept back and relaxed. “The only thing you’re drowning in, Danel, is self-pity. How ’bout you get gone and we talk about this when you’re not looking for a fight?”
Danel couldn’t imagine when that would be. Life had proven to be a steaming pile of shit, true, but he’d always believed in his brothers and what they stood for. Without that, he didn’t even have the strength to fight the toxicity of his beast.
Maybe he’d just wash his hand of the whole thing.
He chuffed at his own joke and pushed off the wall. “Whatevs, Greek. Go join the party. When you wake up and realize I’m right, it’ll be too damn late.”
“Yeah? Too late for what?”
“Hell’s Gate is open, my brother, and evil is taking root.”
Cassi held the gaping mouth of the scissors against the black silk ribbon. There was a hum to the night here, the city never truly asleep. There were strange smells too: the air, the nearby lake, the humans . . . so many scents to sort through. To her left, Austin and Zander stood her supporters. To her right, Kyrian beamed, proud and protective. She still couldn’t believe how far they’d come.
“In the past weeks,” she said, to her people, “we’ve all been adjusting to changes. Living in the Human Realm, being free to go outside—day or night—not worrying about ghouls, hounds, or dragons attacking, and for many of you, schooling and working toward acquiring jobs.”
Dougal and Sabine finished circulating through the crowd of one-hundred and sixty-six Shedim and set down the serving trays on the event refreshment table. Grabbing two flutes of blood-infused wine, they raised their glasses with the others.
“DonorWatch is an innovation. This business will put food on our table, provide jobs and income to our people, and set a new standard in feeding members of the Darkworld. Thanks to Austin’s awareness of organ transplant criteria, and the volume of unusable organs in each city, each day, we will now dispose of those organs to our benefit.”
She paused for a moment while the excitement in the crowd died down. “And with our new contacts in rescue services and provincial coroner offices, that supply of food earmarked for waste increases even further.”
“We’re proud of you, Mistress,” Sabine said. “We’ll make it work. Count on all of us to help.”
Cassi couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever been so filled with hope for the future. Her people were safe and soon to be full-bellied and healthy, they had a home and land at the closed hotel Kyrian and his brothers helped her buy, and she had a male who loved her.
His Nephilim family were beginning to trust her—except for Danel, who would likely never forgive her people for the loss of his hand—but now that Thrash had moved her army into Castle Wandread, the Watchers knew where the cache of red-metaled weapons were. She hoped, anyway.
Kyrian squeezed her shoulders from behind and Cassi marveled at how his simple touch of support scattered her thoughts. Her entire body warmed to his touch, attuned to his presence, anticipating the next moment when they could be alone. Remembering all the stolen moments they’d shared the past few weeks.
Kyrian cleared his throat, and she remembered where she was and with whom. If Zander smelled her arousal, he was gentlemanly enough not to let on.
With her cheeks burning, she got back to business. “We won’t eliminate the need for hunters altogether, but living within the quotas of the Otherworld accords won’t be a problem. Here’s to new connections and a new future.”
Cassi closed the scissors and sliced through the ribbon. Her Shedim family sampled the treats set out and wandered up the stone steps.
“Go in and explore,” she said, proud of the entire operation.
Kyrian had designed the layout, overseen the construction, and had a hand in all the finishes and furnishings. It really felt like they were in this together.
“What’s that look for?” he said, turning her to face him.
The nearness of him overpowered her control as it always did, and she hoped, always would. “You know, for the first time in my life, I feel like an equal to the man in my life. I love that . . . and I love you.”
Kyrian winked. “That’s good news because I’m a lawman, and it wouldn’t look good if I was stalking one of my charges and trying to make her love me. No means no, and all that.”
Cassi kissed his stubbled cheek. “Well, your honor is safe, and you get a standing yes from me any time you want.”
Kyrian growled and pulled her closer. He pressed his hips against her pelvis and ground his erection against her skirt. “Careful what you offer up, sweetheart. I just might test that statement and you have responsibilities here.”
She ran her fingers through the ebony feathers just behind his back and sighed. “Give me ten minutes to find Dougal and put him and Sabine in charge.”
“Yeah?” The smile he flashed her sucked the air from her lungs. “And then what?”
“Then, I’m all yours. For as long as you want me.”
THANK YOU FOR READING
I sincerely hope you enjoyed, Watcher Redeemed, Book Two in the Watchers of the Gray series. If you’d like to review the story while it’s fresh in your mind, I’d love to read your thoughts. Amazon
Book Three, Watcher Reborn will be available April 26th.
To pre-order that book at $0.99, click here.
I hope you enjoy them all!
If you’d like to read an excerpt from Watcher Reborn, scroll to the next pages.
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In gratitude,
JL Madore
CHAPTER ONE
“Large coffee, double double and an everything bagel, lightly toasted with herb and garlic cream cheese, right?”
Danel glanced up from the billfold he’d fished from the pocket of his leather trench and forced himself not to roll his eyes. The blonde barista at this place was always way too perky for the hour of the night . . . or morning as the case may be. Annnnd she was staring. What the fuck was she staring at?
Right, she’d asked him a question. “Yeah, fine.”
With his order confirmed she sprang into action and he tossed a five on the stainless-steel counter. He’d never understand it. These stupid sheep led such mundane lives yet most of them didn’t seem to notice. Some of them, like barista-Barbie here, actually seemed joyous to wear her sad uniform, make minimum wage, and serve Toronto’s night-crawlers.
It made Danel’s balls knot. Nothing worse than being bombarded with sunshine when you felt like death. Ignoring the idle chatter-babble she was splattering him with, he accepted the take-out tray she slid toward his good hand and made a break for it.
“Have a nice night.”
Yeah, Fan-fucking-tastic. In three long strides he was face to face with the way out. And that’s when his shit-kickers stalled dead. Damn. He couldn’t face his brother’s coming in from patrol tonight. Deciding to put off the awkward nightly ritual, he hung a louie and eyed a booth in the back corner.
By-passing the rows of empty tables, he passed the only other customer in the place, a homeless guy reading yesterday’s news, and ass-planted in the shadows. With his back to the brick wall, and a good line of sight into both the coffee house and the street outside, he slid his tray onto the table and got down to business.
Damn it. His coffee cup sat wedged tight and he had to lay his useless stump of an arm on the tray to leverage it free. God,
if he wasn’t such a java-whore, he’d never put himself through the humiliation of public display. After liberating his mug, he set the thing on the table and tugged the black bandana over what was left of dominant his dagger hand.
Sucking back a large swallow of liquid ambrosia he let that thought fester. Yep, this was his retirement gift after three thousand years of battling evil and saving the lives of mindless humans. Screw the gold watch, he’d had his hand lopped off at the wrist and been retired from rotation indefinitely. Fuck-you-very-much.
He tossed his bagel back onto the paper, his appetite lost.
If he wasn't a warrior, who in the three realms was he? Just some unlucky asshole who’d given a hundred and ten percent and been left a cripple. The fact that his brother's couldn't even look him square in the eye was a real ball-gnasher.
The hum of his phone vibrating on his hip broke through his wallowing. He set down his coffee and checked the ID.
“Cop.”
“Hey, D, you forgot to say goodbye. I’m hurt.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive.”
“What happened? One minute I’m changing the targets for you and the next minute you’re vapor.”
“Just had enough target practice for one night. That’s all.”
The long silence on the other end of the phone gave Danel the scratch. He trapped his phone between his ear and his shoulder and took a long haul on his coffee. Didn’t help.
Colt cursed under his breath and when the guy spoke again, his tone was far too reasonable. “It’ll come, D. You’re hitting the mark every time now. In another few sessions you’ll be just as deadly as a southpaw as you ever were. Give it time.”
He flexed his blistered fingers, man his hand was still numb from the hours of abuse he’d been putting it through. “With the rebellion gaining ground, the squad can’t afford me to be on the disabled list. Tanek’s dead, Kyrian’s awol most of the time worrying about his Darkworlder female and with Austin’s pregnancy advancing, Zander is only half focused on the streets. With me off rotation, that leaves us down four. The front lines are getting thin, Cop.”