King of the Damned (League of Guardians 2) - Page 119

Its long, clawlike hand punched into Cedric’s back and through his chest like a hammer smashing into bone.

“No!” In one moment everything faded to gray, and Cedric’s eyes widened as he gazed at her. She saw his love for her family, his allegiance to her Nana. She saw his acceptance of his death.

He fell forward and with a painful gasp tossed the sword into the air. Rowan leapt upward, aware the jar was cracking, shaking with the rage that it contained. Without hesitation she turned and separated Mallick’s head from his body.

Chapter 33

He’d watched her for hours, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way she curled her palm into her cheek, and he’d listened to the soft sounds that fell from her lips as she twisted among her blankets. Evening shadows crept along the walls of her bedroom, and he shifted, his long legs stiff, his body aching.

It had been one hell of a battle. Abigail had been struck down, two of the human hunters along with her. Several of Darrick’s fae had been gravely injured, and Cedric . . . Azaiel sighed and rubbed his forehead. The gentle old man had died valiantly.

A knock on the door drew his attention, and he rose as Priest entered.

“Has she woken yet?”

Azaiel shook his head. “Not yet.”

Priest ran his hands across his temple and rolled his shoulder. “Nico and I are leaving. With Mallick gone, the threat to Salem’s been greatly diminished. The Blackstones and the Morins along with the rest of the coven should be able to rout out any laggers and take care of them.”

“Good to know.” Azaiel paused. “There will be repercussions with Mallick’s death. Lucifer will not be happy that one of his own is gone, banished to the gray realm forever.”

“No, I don’t suppose the bastard will like that.” Priest was silent for a few moments. “I hear you’re sticking around . . . for a while.”

“News travels fast.”

“That kind of news does.”

Azaiel watched him closely. The Knight Templar was honorable. A true warrior. For whatever reason it mattered what the man thought. “You think me weak?”

Priest shook his head. “No, brother. I think you’re brave.” A pause. “Did you get a chance to question Rowan?”

“Not yet, she’s been—”

“He didn’t do it,” Rowan whispered hoarsely. She sat up in the bed and pushed a mess of tangles out of her eyes. She looked from Priest and back to Azaiel. “I’m certain that Mallick didn’t kill my Nana.” Her eyes were shadowed with unshed tears, and Azaiel’s heart twisted when she gazed at him and whispered, “So who did? Are the rest of you in danger?”

Priest swore and turned on his heel. “I’ve got to get to The Pines; this is not good news.” He reached into his jacket and retrieved a cigar.

“I thought you were out.”

He tossed it to Azaiel. “I am now.”

Priest turned to Rowan, his voice soft. “What you did last night was one of the bravest things I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s one I won’t soon forget.” He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Take care, little witch. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.”

Priest nodded to Azaiel. “You too, Seraphim,” then he opened the door and left.

Azaiel sank onto the bed and gathered Rowan into his arms. There were no words for a very long time, and he held her until the shadows solidified, and the room fell into darkness.

She trembled in his arms, and shudders rolled over her shoulders. “Abigail, Cedric . . . oh God, Azaiel, what did I do? If I just . . . I should have just done this on my own.”

“You couldn’t do this on your own, Rowan.”

“They died because of me.”

He stroked her hair and wished with all his might that he could take away her pain. “They didn’t die because of you. They died for you, knowing you’d do the same for them. Your circle held firm, and you defeated a demon lord who had terrorized your coven for centuries. That took a hell of a lot of guts. Most men I know wouldn’t have taken the chance you took, led your people the way you did.” He kissed the top of her head. “Your family is very proud of you, Rowan and now . . . now it’s over.”

She looked up at him, her huge eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I should feel a lot of things, but my chest hurts, and I can’t get Abigail’s dead eyes out of my head.”

He rubbed her shoulders and worked the knots until she relaxed.

Tags: Juliana Stone League of Guardians Fantasy
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