King of the Damned (League of Guardians 2)

Azaiel pushed away from the kitchen counter, muscles rippling across his shoulders as he stretched. You really could bounce a damn quarter off the perfection that was his abs, and if those jeans slipped any lower . . . She shot him a look of irritation.

“Can you not put a shirt on?” she snapped, eyes stormy, temper rising.

I did not just say that out loud.

His golden eyes darkened, and she hoped like hell he wasn’t going to acknowledge her comment.

“What’s it time for, Rowan?” Priest asked quietly.

Rowan exhaled and squared her shoulders. Saved by the priest it seemed. “We’re going to spring my mother from the asylum.” And break a few dozen laws along the way.

Nico moved forward. “Mental institutions have security, yes, but it’s minimal at best.”

Rowan studied his dark, fathomless eyes. “You were locked up?” The question was more of a joke, but the jaguar’s eyes flattened, and his mouth thinned.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And she was. When the shifter wasn’t being an arrogant asshole, there was substance there that held a whole lot of pain and hurt.

“It shouldn’t be hard. Not for us.” Priest flashed a smile. It was obvious he was eager to do something more than sit around her kitchen table waiting for the enemy to come to them.

“Shit, you have no idea,” Hannah muttered.

“Mother’s not in a human institution.” Rowan paused. How could she make them understand? “It’s more like Azkaban.” At the blank looks on both Nico and Azaiel, she shook her head, clearly disgusted. “Harry Potter anyone? Seriously? Where the hell have you guys been hiding?”

Priest stepped forward. “You don’t want to know. I, however, am more than familiar with human pop culture. What’s the story with this place?”

“There is no way in other than by blood, and since I’m banned from the island, that won’t work,” Rowan replied.

“Why are you banned?” Azaiel asked.

“You really don’t want to know.” Hannah shook her head.

Rowan shot a look at her cousin that said zip it before meeting Azaiel’s probing gaze. “It’s not important. It just is.”

“So we break in.” Azaiel moved closer.

“Yes.” Rowan nodded. “But it’s not that easy.”

“Nothing ever is.” His eyes were still flat, and, for a second, she thought that maybe he was angry with her.

Priest spoke up and motioned around the room. “Trust me. I don’t think this group will have trouble breaking into an otherworld insane asylum.”

Rowan didn’t bother to answer. The man had no clue as to the real power that existed amongst sorcerers and witches. If he did, he wouldn’t have made such a flip comment. She decided there and then that at some point over the next few weeks, she’d make sure Priest understood it. Fully.

There were those who knew, those who would take . . . those like Mallick.

“If we make it into the asylum and right now, that’s a big if, there’s the whole problem of actually getting back out . . .”

“If we can get in, we’ll make it out,” Azaiel cut in.

Rowan took a second. Breathe. “I’ve no doubt we’ll find a way out once inside. I was more concerned with keeping my mother unharmed and making sure we have all of our body parts intact.”

Priest frowned. “Okay, just so we’re clear. What’s the reason for this breakout?” He glanced around the room. “If the shit is coming down here in Salem, won’t your mother be safer inside some heavily protected asylum?”

“I need her,” Rowan answered. “She may be crazy, but she’s still a James witch, and her power is impressive.”

She didn’t like the way Priest’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe her. Rowan held his gaze for several seconds before looking away. Screw him. The fact that he was right to be suspicious only made her more defensive. She did need her mother’s power, but it was the other reason she needed her that mattered more.