Wrong Side of Hell (League of Guardians 0.50)

“I think it’s time for me to leave. I don’t belong topside.” Logan said flatly.

“You will stay.” Bill rose and even though the top of his head barely reached Logan’s chest, there was no mistaking the power that existed inside his small form. Logan’s empty beer bottle rattled and jerked its way toward the edge until it teetered precariously, less than an inch from falling. “I fear the tide is changing. The peace we’ve enjoyed for so long is about to end.”

“Seriously, Bill, you sound like a goddamn politician.”

Bill ignored his sarcastic comment. “An ill wind rides the horizon and the League needs to stand firm.”

Here it was. Crunch time. Logan decided he’d play along—at least until he was able to dig out the truth.

He leveled a steady gaze on Bill. “The bastard after Kira is one of your own. He stank to high heaven of the upper realm.” Logan snorted. “No offense.”

Bill’s eyebrows rose, their thick wiry strands almost comical as the little man stared up at Logan. “You’re sure of this.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement, and judging by the expression on Bill’s face, it was obvious the little shit wasn’t surprised.

Logan nodded. “He’s definitely shooting golden glow out of his ass; I just don’t know how much.”

Bill’s face tightened. “I need you to stay with the girl. I can’t chance her safety with anyone else—”

“No fucking way.” Logan exploded, his voice carrying loudly and drawing the attention of most of the room. He bent closer. “I told you I was out. The only reason I did this was because of my mother. I held up my end of the bargain and I expect you to do the same.”

The Seraphim stared up at him for several long moments. Bill finally answered. “I will not reveal your mother’s identity but you cannot leave.”

Logan turned around. “Watch me.”

“Kira will perish without you.”

The words whispered inside his head and Logan froze, his large frame thrumming with anger. What game was this?

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nbsp; “What the hell does that mean?” Images of Kira sank into his brain. Full of sun and golden skin, intermingled with the battered, dead body he’d first encountered.

The taste of her was still in his mouth and the feel of her was on his skin. There was a connection there—something he really didn’t want to think about. What was the point? She was human. He was a hellhound. Besides, she’d been marked by both the underworld and the upper realm. Complication was her new middle name.

Complicated was something Logan Winters wanted to avoid.

“If she dies all will be lost. You’ve tasted her soul, Logan. You followed her into the gray realm and you brought her back when there was no one else. Can you really leave Kira to the mercy of those who would end her?”

Logan stepped back, not liking where the conversation was going. The corners of the room were closing in and he tugged at the collar of his jacket. Christ but it was hot.

“Why the hell can’t you look after her?” he snarled.

Bill’s mouth thinned. “You know I cannot directly involve myself in the affairs of humans. That is not negotiable. Especially ones that hold the interest of the otherworld. It would risk exposing the very group of people who can help her. I can’t be with Kira all the time and she needs to be guarded 24/7.”

“I’m a hellhound . . . I don’t do topside and I sure as fuck don’t think that little slip of a human can survive below.”

“There are ways.”

“No.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“You’re being a dick. I told you I was out.”

“You care for her. I see it in your eyes.”

“I hardly know her.”

“Her future is linked to yours.”