He ducks and leaves the kitchen in hysterics.
“Asshat.”
***
I all but run to the study after Asher leaves and don’t bother knocking once there, I just bound in. I stifle a screech when I see the gargoyle behind the desk isn’t Keegan, but Gage.
“What are you doing here?” I question trying to control my heart rate.
“Christ.” He stands and stalks to me. “What happened to your face, love?”
“McKenna,” I answer flatly.
A small smile tugs at his lips. “Then I’m sure it was deserved,” he says.
“Hey,” I shoot back. “Maybe she attacked me.”
His brows rise. “Did you she attack you, unprovoked, love?”
My eyes shift downward. “I might have said I wanted to mark Keegan.”
Gage’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “Might have?”
I roll mine. “Okay, I said it.”
He runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Do I dare ask what your reasoning was?”
I shrug. “Maybe I find Keegan attractive.”
Gage releases an ugly laugh. “They have eyes. They see the way you look at the dark prince.”
“Why are you here?” I change topics.
“Keegan summoned me. The council wants to see us,” he reminds. “Your turn, love.”
I watch Gage, watching me. “Michael was here yesterday. It’s true. All of it. Including your theory on Camilla’s murder.”
The bad-boy gargoyle goes still as all the blood drains from his face. Leaving him with a ghost of an expression. He rubs one hand over his mouth and jaw before resting it there.
Crap. Perhaps I should have delivered that softer. After all she was his mate. After a few moments, Gage sits down numbly on the leather sofa.
“You do realize what this means, love?” he asks in a non-Gage like tone.
I meet his sea green eyes.
“The council meeting is an ambush.”
21 A King Rises
THE ICONIC SCENERY OF COUNTY KERRY, IRELAND, adorned by crenulated coastlines and mist shrouded, endless green fields, criss-crossed by tumbledown stone walls does nothing to calm my nerves.
Domus Gurgulio Castle, home to the Royal Gargoyle Council of Protectors, is just as pretentious as I remember. I scrunch my face in disdain while I study the stain glass doors.
The odd scene depicts one large gargoyle with chocolate wings, centered in the glass, sitting atop the point of a gold throne. Two smaller, less significant protectors are on each side, bowing and looking at the larger being as if he is a God. Lovely.
Next to me, Keegan is speaking to the clan reminding everyone of why we’re here. My vision shifts to the jagged cliff drop and the wall of stone hiding the ocean. Immediately, I’m hit with all the sadness I felt the last time Asher and I were here.
When he left me, standing in the dark…alone, in the rain.
Asher steps in front of my sightline, forcing my chin up so I look him in the eyes. After a few moments of silently studying me, he brushes the skin under my eyes with his thumbs and stares deeply into them.
“Ilem jur pri tú-tim, ew tú-tim pri pos-tim ali ide in-zen, mání, vas-wís, ew ter-ort.
Esta-de ai esta Ilem de, Ilem pos-tim in-saengkt pri, tú-tim,” he says in Garish.
He’s said these words to me before, but this time, the mark pulses and my soul warms.
“I know,” I whisper, answering his vow of love and protection.
“Forever.” His tone drops and his lips brush mine.
“Forever,” I repeat across his mouth.
Asher’s lips caress my cheek before leaning into my ear to speak quietly.
“They can’t fucking touch me. I’m one step closer to laying my sword at your feet, siren.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and slowly nod my head in acknowledgement.
The entrance doors to the castle swing open, revealing the intimidating gargoyle, Rulf. His inky black hair shifts with the burst of wind caused when he yanked the doors open. From the surprised look on his perfectly chiseled face, I don’t think he was expecting to see the London clan on his doorstep.
“Rulf,” Asher clips.
“Welcome back to Domus Gurgulio, your highness,” Rulf says formally, taking a knee.
The gargoyle’s large brown wings cascade around his body, dropping almost delicately.
“We have an appointment with Lord Falk and the council,” Asher explains.
“I see.” Rulf knits his brows. “Please.” He composes himself, standing at his full height and ushering us into the stone foyer.
We enter the castle while Rulf gaze darts around the clan with growing curiosity. Sighing, his slate grey eyes land on me. They widen in surprise, causing me to crease my forehead.
“By the grace, you fucking mated with her, Asher?” Rulf growls. Oh. Right. Shit.
Thinking I’m somehow in danger, Asher steps in front of me, releasing his raven wings with an angry snap. The clan follows suit. “Eve is none of your concern, Rulf.”
“Dude, her eyes are indigo and I can smell you on her a mile away.” His nose scrunches.
Gage takes a place next to Asher, standing just as menacingly with his grey wings out.
Rulf’s vision slides to Gage before he throws his hands up in the air aggravated.
“Ah, shit.” Rulf exhales, shifting his focus to Asher. “Are you serious bringing him here?”
“As you know, the council is aware that Gage is Eve’s secondary protector. They approved his post and were present at his oath taking. I assure you, he is fucking welcome,” Asher bites back. “Now, if you will excuse us, we have an appointment.”
Rulf holds Asher’s eyes for a moment before speaking. “Is it a scheduled appointment?”
Asher remains silent, which confuses me. I thought the council asked us here.
Seeing that Asher won’t back down, Rulf dips his chin. “It would be my pleasure to accompany you and announce your arrival, your highness,” he says sarcastically.
“That won’t be necessary.” Asher tugs me toward a long stone hallway.
“It’s protocol that I announce you,” Rulf calls after us. “Asher,” he commands.
Asher stops, turns, and pins Rulf with a hard look. “As your future king, I decide what is protocol and what isn’t.”
“King or not, you do not dictate where the council is concerned,” Rulf seethes.
After a few tense moments of Asher not backing down, Rulf begrudgingly concedes and we continue to the chamber with the dark haired gargoyle in tow. “Fine. I’m joining you.”
“It’s nice to see your head is still up Lord Falk’s ass,” Gage says to Rulf.
“It’s nice to see you’ll still fuck anyone who isn’t Camilla,” Rulf retorts. “How is the sexy sorceress, by the way?”
In the blink of an eye, Gage grabs the front of the Rulf’s black shirt and throws him against the wall. The force of the impact causes the gargoyle statues in the alcoves to rock, threatening to fall forward.
“Gage.” Keegan’s warning is low and deep.
“Do not speak of her,” Gage roars in Rulf’s face. “That goes for Nassa as well, asshole.” He grunts and pushes angrily off the gargoyle, storming away in front of us.
Suddenly, I’m glad Nassa stayed back with Fiona to help Galena. With her temper and Rulf’s comment, who knows what kind of spelled hex she would impart on the protector.
“He started it.” Rulf rights himself.
“As an officer of the council, you should rise above and not engage.” Asher sighs.
“When it comes to Gage, you’re one to talk,” Rulf bites out with viciousness.
“Let’s keep going before we lose the element of surprise,” Callan says.
“I thought we were asked to come,” I whisper to Asher as we continue to walk.
“We were, siren. We’re just here a bit earlier,” he responds.
“Why?”
�
�You’ll find out soon enough,” Asher says, pushing open the carved wooden doors.
I inhale sharply when we enter the dark, stone chamber. The council members are all seated on the raised stage and Lord Falk is center stage with his back to us.
At the disruption, the elder turns and narrows his eyes at the group. “What is the meaning of this unannounced interruption?” Lord Falk’s voice booms.
“The London clan, Miss Collins, and Gage Gallagher are here,” Rulf answers.
“I can see that. You’re not expected until the day after today,” Lord Falk says.
“As next in line to the throne, and a member of this council, I didn’t realize I needed an invitation,” Asher argues as we make our way down the urn lit aisle toward the stage.
The room becomes silent, and the council shifts uncomfortably in their seats.
“You are a member of this council, and the royal court, by inheriting your position, prince. In this chamber, I am the elected authority. Remember that,” Lord Falk states coolly.
Asher takes a menacing step forward. At the motion, I fight every part of me that wants to follow and protect him. “I’ve earned my right to both. It is you who would do well to remember who the authority is here.” His voice is even. “Now that we’re clear, I’m going to ask nicely. Why did you request an audience with the entire clan?”
Lord Falk stands taller, his large brown wings stretched to intimidate. “You are in no position to ask anything of this council, your highness. As we understand, under your protection and royal reign, the Eternal Forest has fallen. Innocent seers were violently slaughtered in their temple. A beloved queen was accused of treachery and beheaded, and your family is being charged with consorting with the King of Hell.”
Angrily, I take a step toward the leader before anyone can stop me.
“Wrong!” I shout, causing all eyes to turn to me, and Asher to go rigid. “Lady Finella was mated to Asmodeus. Together, with gargoyle assistance, they destroyed the Eternal Forest and murdered the priestesses. Her grace gave my mother to the Declan clan as a bargaining chip for me. Michael and Uriel, with the angelic council’s blessing, beheaded the queen for betrayal. Asher and the London clan have done nothing but protect these realms and the beings within them. To accuse them otherwise would be irreverent.”
The council elder tips his head to the side, assessing me. “Why are you here, Miss Collins? These are supernatural matters, not divine. Your human presence is not necessary.”
“Do not speak to her,” Asher growls out.
The warning is followed by an audible intake of breath from Thea, a female elder.
“Her eyes!” The gargoyle gasps, pointing at me.
All members turn their attention toward me. Crap.
Standing on each of my sides, Gage and Asher both take a protective step in front of me.
Lord Falk takes a step in my direction, studying my eyes. “It would seem that not only have you failed to protect the supernatural realms, but that you have also infringed upon the oath you swore to uphold with regard to your loyalty to both the human race and your charge,” the leader whispers in a chilling manner. “What say you?” he holds my gaze and waits for Asher’s answer.
“As the future king, and a member of this council, I take my oath and loyalty to my race and charges very seriously. In that respect, I have claimed Miss Collins as my mate and the future queen of the gargoyle kin.” Asher’s authoritative voice echoes off the stones. “If anyone on this council takes issue with my choice, I will excuse you from your position.”
Lord Falk’s eyes snap to Asher and a strange smile appears on his lips. “You are not king yet. Tread lightly with your threats, prince. As I understand, you becoming our future king, is contingent upon completion of your assignment. Of which, you just forfeited. Well done,” he whispers in Asher’s face before returning to his position on the stage.
“Who better to protect her than her mate?” Asher shouts.
Lord Falk’s eyes narrow and he lowers his voice. “The punishment for such forbidden defiance is stone petrifaction.”
My heart falls into my stomach even though I’ve heard the leader’s words before.
“So quick to uphold oaths, Lord Falk?” Asher antagonizes. “Go on then, get your sword. I’ll advise you to make sure your hand is steady when you shed royal blood.” His voice is calm and even.
On instinct, and stemming from my need to protect Asher, I move closer to him. Gage takes my wrist and pulls me away from Asher and closer to himself with a sharp warning look.
“If I did not know better, your highness, I would suggest there is an accusation beneath your flowery words,” the silver-haired leader seethes.
“Then you would be correct, Lord Falk. It would seem you are not as stupid as everyone has led me to believe,” Asher retorts.
“State. The. Allegation,” Lord Falk barks.
“Treason! I understand you are hiding a traitor amongst the castle walls,” Asher roars.
The council begins to murmur behind the leader in surprise as my eyes slide to Asher who is breathing hard through his nose. With every rise and fall of his chest, understanding begins to seep into my confused state. My lips part as I shift my focus to Keegan. He nods once in acknowledgement that my assumptions are correct. Asher knows who the traitor is.
That’s why we came a day early. The council is providing safe haven. It’s also why Gage and I are present. Fuck. Does he know I know? By his earlier actions, I’m going to say no.
“You have yet to deny the charge,” Asher says.
The council leader remains silent, but lifts his chin.
“Since there is no denial, I am excusing you from your rank, Lord Falk,” Asher states.
The silver-haired leader looks amused. “Only your father, the king, can excuse my post. After what I’ve witnessed today, I assure you, you will never be your father.”
“He isn’t here. I am. And I am nothing like my father,” Asher answers angrily.
“No. You’re not. He is a revered king, beloved by this council, his family, and race. You’re just a sniveling little brat, now mated to a human of all things,” the leader retorts.
“Is?” Asher questions.
My eyes slide shut and my stomach drops, before reopening them.
“What?” Lord Falk asks, taken aback.
“You said is. Not was, Lord Falk,” Asher points out. “As you know, my father, along with the rest of this clan’s parents are no longer. Yet, you speak of him as if he were still here.”
“You are naïve, prince,” Lord Falk says on a quiet tone.
My eyes shift to the walls of the chamber as dark shadows and make their way into the room. They slither down the wet, cool stones and onto the floor before morphing into demons.
“The dark army,” Gage says.
Asher’s fists clutch at his side. “Where is he?”
“Who, pray tell, are you asking about?” Lord Falk taunts.
“Where the fuck is he?” Asher bites out.
“I’m right here, son.” Garrick, Asher’s father, speaks in a booming voice.
Lord Falk’s face morphs into a sadistic grin as the dark army’s shadows take positions around the chamber, closing in on us. The buzzing from their presence is causing the energy source within me to hum.
The council gasps in shock, as Garrick St. Michael, the gargoyle king, and leader of the London clan, rises from death and walks into the chamber. Flanked by Deacon and Jade.
Our traitor. Blood. Family.
At the sight of his dead father, Asher’s face drains of all color. Behind us, Callan exhales.
My breath escapes me as I slide my gaze to Keegan’s and we lock eyes. He offers a solemn look before grabbing McKenna’s hand. She just looks pissed off. I don’t turn to see Abby. I don’t want to see the hurt in her face.
Garrick is the spitting image of Asher, only older, more esteemed looking. His eyes match all three sons as they scan the room and land on me la
st before he slowly approaches us.
“To say I am disappointed with you boys, is an understatement,” the king scolds.
Asher swallows. “Are you fucking real?” he whispers.
“I am,” Garrick assures.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Callan says on an exhale.
“Dead? No. Missing? Yes,” Garrick answers.
“You faked your own death? Why?” Keegan demands from behind the group.
“To save our race,” Garrick replies unapologetically.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Asher says through a twisted look.
“The last time Heaven and Hell went to war, our race was caught in the middle. Protecting humankind almost ended our existence completely,” the king explains calmly. “When I became king, I vowed that my kin would not suffer like that again.”
“Your kin?” Asher snaps. “Where the hell is Mom? The girls’ parents?”
Garrick’s expression falters slightly. “They exist no more.”
“At your hand?” McKenna’s cool voice slithers over me.
“They believed in our cause. Fought and sacrificed their lives for it,” the gargoyle king explains. “As did your father, Gage. He was an amazing protector and a loyal friend.”
Gage releases a choked laugh. “Fuck you, Garrick.”
The king’s expression becomes dangerous. “Watch your tongue I am still your king.”
“No. You are not,” Gage replies in a low tone.
Garrick studies Gage before dipping his chin. “I see you still hold some residual anger from Camilla’s death. For that, I am truly sorry, son.”
“I am not your son.” Gage steps toward the risen king. “And don’t ever, ever, say her name in my presence again, or I will cut your tongue out without thought, you piece of shit.”
“I will forgive your insolence this one time, because I too lost Vivian in the name of sacrifice. It is a cold lesson, one that hardens our hearts and turns our veins to stone. In the end, oaths and loyalty come first. Something none of you understood,” Garrick rambles.
“So you decided to teach us?” Keegan barks.
Garrick paces in front of us. “Of all of my sons, Keegan, you are the most like me.”
“Not likely,” Keegan replies.
Revolution (The Revelation Series Book 4) Page 23