Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6

by Heaton, Felicity

  Cass caught her arm and pulled her towards the door, aware of the other two gods in the room with Cal, standing over him.

  Keras and Ares, two men she had discovered were formidable in their desire to protect their younger brothers, and in their ability to fight.

  What she wanted to tell Mari was liable to spark both of those things in them.

  “Mari,” she whispered, hoping the gods wouldn’t hear her. “I think Cal is going to be sleeping for a while.”

  “How do you know that?” Keras’s deep voice was calm, emotionless.

  Dangerous.

  When the firstborn of Hades sounded like this, he was a step away from unleashing hell upon someone.

  In this case, her.

  She looked at him, refusing to let him see that what she really wanted to do was mutter her strongest barrier spell and distance herself from him.

  Because he wasn’t going to like what she had to say and, like his father, he had a tendency to shoot the messenger.

  “I used a spell on Valen to probe a little into his physical condition.” She braced herself for his reaction.

  But it was Daimon who was suddenly beside her, his voice a black snarl as he advanced on her.

  “You did what?”

  She stood her ground, stoked her courage and squared up to him. “You said I could heal him. I just wanted to see what damage I was dealing with so I could find the appropriate spells.”

  She didn’t take her eyes away from his icy blue ones. They were rapidly brightening, turning white ringed with navy, sparks of silver lighting them as the anger she could sense in him mounted.

  “Did you hurt him with that little probing spell of yours? Because I didn’t give you permission to do that,” Daimon snapped, and Cass wanted to bark right back at him, but she kept her temper in check.

  Because she had been wrong about these brothers, had judged them without knowing them, but if she had been quick to do such a thing, it had only been because she felt protective of Marinda.

  Now that she had seen Cal with Marinda, she could see that Eric had been right to trust the god and that Cal clearly loved her, and she knew it must have been a comfort to Eric in his last moment. He had seen a vision of the future, and in it he had seen his daughter would find someone who loved her as deeply as he had loved her mother.

  All the brothers were like Eric in that way.

  When they loved, they loved. No half measures. It was a forever kind of love. Whether it was for their family or for a woman.

  Gods, she was being sentimental.

  Love was just love.

  There was nothing magical about it.

  It wasn’t necessary.

  She stared into Daimon’s icy eyes, feeling nothing. Not fear. Not love. Not hate. He was just a distraction. A pleasant diversion.

  One who looked ready to throttle her.

  She risked a glance at Keras and Ares and found them looking the same way.

  “Listen,” she bit out, before they could turn on her or Daimon could get ideas about attempting to drown her in the pond again. “Valen is in a deep sleep. One might call it a coma. He sealed a gate. Did you honestly think there wouldn’t be consequences from tampering with something bound to you all in blood? Created from your blood?”

  Ares scrubbed a hand down his face, his deep brown eyes filled with fatigue and worry. Keras actually looked concerned for once as his green gaze dropped to Cal where he was tucked under the covers on the floor.

  “Check him,” Keras said. “See if they both feel the same way to you.”

  She kneeled beside Cal, took hold of his wrist and closed her eyes as she summoned the spell again, pushing past her own fatigue to make it as strong as the one she had used on Valen.

  Her strength drained from her as she funnelled it into him and waited.

  He was hurting, so she gave his healing a little push as she had with Valen.

  And then she felt it.

  That same feeling Valen had given her.

  “He’s asleep,” she murmured, holding the connection between them open. “A coma-level sleep. He’s still functioning normally, but I can feel this isn’t a normal sleep.”

  “When will he wake up?” Mari’s voice trembled and Cass broke her hold on Cal and looked up at her.

  For once, she didn’t hide her feelings, let Mari see them all. She knew what Mari was really asking but was too afraid to voice.

  Would he wake up?

  She pushed onto her feet and gathered Mari into her arms, holding her close. “I’m not sure. It might be a few days, sweetie, it might be a few weeks.”

  She refused to say it might be never.

  She couldn’t do that to Mari.

  “At worst, he might not wake until the seals are removed from the gate,” she said.

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” The sense of dark power Keras constantly emanated grew in strength and Cass had a hard time withstanding it in her weakened state.

  She leaned on Mari, hoping her ward wouldn’t notice it or if she did, wouldn’t mention that she was weak from using her magic on gods. She didn’t want these gods to know that she had her limits.

  “I don’t like it either,” Daimon muttered.

  “We can’t afford to leave the gates open, but we can’t weaken our side by having two more of our team out of action.” Ares folded his arms across his broad chest, causing the tattered remains of his black T-shirt to stretch over his muscles.

  Mari whispered, “Cal closed the gate. How can anyone else open it?”

  Cass smoothed her hand over Mari’s fair hair, hoping it would comfort her.

  “We could probably use their blood,” Daimon offered from behind her. “It might be enough to allow another of us to undo the wards.”

  “We should wait.” Keras levelled a dark look at Daimon. “Don’t give me that look. I am only talking about waiting a few days to see if their condition changes. Valen and Cal will need to recover from the blood loss of sealing the Seville gate anyway. A few days, and then we shall decide what to do.”

  Cass hoped for all their sakes that Cal and Valen awoke.

  The air in the room remained dark, oppressive as the three brothers stood in silence.

  They were already missing one brother, having another two out of action was an understandable cause of worry.

  Daimon broke the silence. “If we’re going to be out of action for weeks, weakened by draining our blood to close the gates, then we’re going to be vulnerable to the enemy. Maybe this is all part of their plan.”

  She pulled back from Mari and looked at him, catching the concern in his ice-blue eyes as he ran a hand over the spikes of his dirty white hair. Concern that echoed inside her too.

  “What if they’re forcing us to close the gates, so we’re concentrating the power of them into only a few, making them harder to manage? They could be setting us up for a fall.” Daimon exchanged a look with his brothers, one that chilled her blood.

  What he was saying made a dreadful sort of sense.

  They had planned to close four gates as quickly as possible, but with this new turn of events, that would be too risky.

  As it was, there were still five gates in need of protection and only four brothers to do it. If the enemy attacked now, her side would be at a disadvantage.

  “We’ll have to be on our guard.” Keras lifted his green gaze from Cal and settled it on her. “Can we count on you?”

  Daimon’s gaze drilled into the side of her face and she suppressed the urge to point out they could have counted on her tonight, when they had gone to London and Seville. Rather than throwing it in their faces again, she nodded.

  Looked at Keras and Ares.

  And then right into Daimon’s eyes.

  “Whatever you need from me, you’ve got it.”

  Chapter 3

  Daimon trod the well-worn path that trailed through the garden in the gap between the north wing of the mansion and the white wall that enclosed it, enj
oying the cool shade and the peace.

  And maybe the escape from the gloomy air inside the house.

  It had been three days since Cal and Valen had sealed two of the gates, and in that time, Daimon and his remaining brothers had been fighting daemons away from the gates each night. The Erinyes had targeted two or three gates a night, starting the opening process using the power they had stolen from Marinda, and then disappearing just as he and his brothers reached the gate, leaving them with hordes of daemons to deal with as they closed the gate again. Everyone was tired and beaten down, and he wasn’t talking about just his brothers.

  Caterina, Eva and Cass had been on the frontline with them, battling the daemons, working as a team to help him and his brothers in the absence of Cal, Valen and Esher.

  Daimon had the feeling that the enemy was trying to weaken them. Or maybe they were testing the limits of their powers.

  His side was testing the limits of the Erinyes’ powers in return.

  Keras had asked Marinda to avoid touching Cal so they could see whether her power over the gate would weaken, and could discover how long a furie could hold on to a power they had siphoned from another.

  Whenever Daimon went to check on Cal, he could see how difficult this was for Marinda. Cal was still sleeping, and it was clear she wanted to hold him, to touch him and offer comfort, and she couldn’t.

  He could understand how that felt.

  He couldn’t touch his brothers to give them that either. His touch would only cause them more pain.

  Daimon neared the front garden, tipped his head back and stared at the endless blue sky.

  Gods, he was tired.

  Bone-deep tired.

  Whenever he tried to sleep, he saw visions of Esher in the Underworld, terrible things that plagued him when he woke, stayed with him through the night as he carried out his duties until dawn came and sleep beckoned again.

  He had woken two hours ago in a cold sweat and had been walking the garden ever since, seeking some respite, trying to purge what he had seen in his nightmares. Desperate to sleep and get some rest this time.

  As he rounded the corner and the path opened up again, shaded by a beautiful old maple tree on his left and bushes on his right, his gaze landed on the two motorbikes Cal had brought with him from his home in London after Keras had declared it a loss and ordered him to move into the mansion in Tokyo.

  The lime-green and black one was sleek and sharp, built for speed, just like his little brother. The gold and black one beside it looked closer to a normal road bike.

  Esher was going to flip his shit when he came home and found them parked on the gravel of the front garden.

  He shook his head, could easily picture it playing out, and how Cal would attempt to defuse the situation and probably only make things worse. Daimon would be the one to talk Esher down, and in the end, his brother would reluctantly agree to the bikes staying, but would want them moved to a place where they wouldn’t ruin the aesthetic of the garden he loved so much.

  Daimon paused on a steppingstone, his eyes drifting over the front of the mansion, tracing the line of the roof where it swept over the porch and the contrast of the slate-grey tiles against the blue sky.

  The single-storey house was enormous, but it felt too small with Cass in it. He couldn’t seem to escape her. The only time he was safe from the sorceress was when he was with Aiko, trying to keep her spirits, and his, up. Cass didn’t seem to know how to respond to Aiko, usually made herself scarce when it all became too much for the young Japanese woman and she broke down.

  If it weren’t for the fact Daimon had seen how much Cass cared about Marinda, he would have thought Cass was the one with a cold heart.

  But it was him.

  He knew that.

  He had closed it off long ago, had hardened himself and pushed away everyone except his family.

  He didn’t want to feel anything. Not anymore. His heart was ice now. No trace of feeling left in it.

  It was ice now.

  He told himself that as Cass appeared on the porch, drawing his gaze to her. She wiped her hands on a cloth, looking like a bizarre combination of housewife and glamourous jetsetter. Her long black dress that hugged her curves like a second-skin, her polished onyx nails and perfectly preened tumbling waves of her jet hair, were all at odds with the dirty rag she held.

  Her aquamarine eyes settled on him. Not piercing, nor probing. Not anything.

  But her presence still rankled him.

  “What’s your problem?” he snapped, unable to keep the bite out of his voice or stop himself from reacting to her.

  She arched a fine black eyebrow at him and tipped her chin up in that haughty way that made him want to snarl at her.

  “Good morning to you too,” she said, her tone whisper-soft, her words lashing at him.

  He hated it when she did that, responding to him in a civilised manner when he couldn’t bring himself to be the same towards her. He couldn’t help it. He was constantly on his guard around her and it was her fault. She had made it clear more than enough times that she was determined to strip down his walls.

  And he had made it clear he was determined she wouldn’t.

  So now they were at war, locked in a battle he was going to win.

  She lowered the cloth to her side and smoothed her glossy black hair, luring his gaze back to her face. He cursed her.

  And then cursed her again when she spoke.

  “Aiko made some food for those of us who sleep eludes, and I just wanted to tell you.” She looked down at the rag she held. For a moment, he thought she would leave it at that and leave him alone, but then she lifted her head and locked gazes with him. “You need to eat.”

  Those words were stern. Commanding.

  Irritating.

  “I don’t need to eat.” His stomach grumbled, calling him a liar.

  Fine, he did need to eat but he had no appetite.

  He stood there, a thousand thoughts and feelings colliding inside him, and the weight on his shoulders felt too heavy to bear.

  He was drowning again.

  He tried to hold back the tide, looked away from her thinking that was a good place to start, but he ended up staring at the mansion.

  The weight on his shoulders dropped right through him, tore a gaping hole inside him as he remembered all the good times, before everything had gone to hell.

  He absently lifted his hand and rubbed the aching spot above his heart.

  “If you need to talk—”

  He cut Cass off with a vicious snarl, baring emerging fangs at her. “If I need to talk, it won’t be you that I’m talking to. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.” She took a hard step towards the edge of the porch, her eyes glittering like ice as she narrowed them on him. “I haven’t known you long, but it’s obvious you share a bond with Esher, and with Esher—”

  “Esher is coming back,” he cut her off again, that hole inside him filling with acid that scoured his insides, with darkness and pain—and despair. His voice dropped to a whisper, losing all strength as it all crashed over him. “He’ll come back. He has to come back.”

  Cass was mercifully silent for a moment.

  But then she softly murmured, “What if he doesn’t?”

  He stepped, darkness swirling around him for a heartbeat before he appeared right in front of her. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensing as if she anticipated a strike against her.

  As if she believed he would hit her.

  A low growl curled from him, birthed by the thought she believed him capable of such a thing.

  He drew a steadying breath to calm the raging torrent of his feelings, lifted his right hand and hovered it over the front of her throat. He stared at it, at the smooth, pale column of it that was stark against the black of his gloves.

  “You’re playing with ice, koldun’ya,” he whispered low, his gaze transfixed on her throat and the frost forming on his gloves, fascination rolling through him as h
e felt the warmth of her against his palm despite the gap of air between them. “If you’re not careful, one of these days, you’re going to find out what it’s like to be touched by me.”

  She murmured sexily, “Is that a promise?”

  His eyes leaped to meet hers, shock rolling through him as he saw in them that she wanted it to be, that she wanted him to touch her. Need flooded him, a fierce hunger that had him close to inching his hand forwards to make contact.

  He shut it down.

  Backed off.

  Disappointment flickered in her eyes.

  For some damned reason, it echoed inside him too.

  He was disappointed with himself. That was all it was.

  He had promised his heart to another, and Cass was just someone the Moirai had sent to test him. She was nothing to him. He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her.

  He backed off another step, ignoring the cold abyss that opened inside him as he distanced himself from the sorceress.

  This was what he wanted. This distance between them. This coldness.

  This was what Penelope would want from him and what he owed the woman he had loved and lost. She deserved his faithfulness. He was devoted to her, and nothing would change that. He didn’t want another female.

  He would always be loyal to her.

  These needs growing inside him were inconsequential. All that mattered was remaining true to Penelope. He didn’t need a woman.

  He didn’t want one.

  A growl rose up his throat when an image flickered in his mind, his brother Ares softly touching Megan’s cheek, a wealth of love in his eyes as their skin made contact.

  He shut it out.

  He didn’t need that.

  He didn’t want that.

  It was a blessing that his touch was ice, liable to give pain rather than pleasure. It was a blessing.

  It was.

  His heart was constant. Forever Penelope’s. He was constant.

  He was.

  Marinda appeared behind Cass, her tropical blue eyes shimmering with tears. “Cal’s awake.”

  Cass’s face warmed as she turned to Marinda, her soft rosy lips curling in a smile as her aquamarine eyes brightened with love and happiness.

  Gods, she was beautiful.