King of the Damned (League of Guardians 2)

up.

“Hey.” Hannah’s warm hand on her shoulder felt like a memory—a wonderful, warm-you-to-your-toes kind of memory. How could she have let the two of them grow apart? She’d given Mallick too much power, and it was going to stop.

“You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“It’s just been so long.” Rowan tried not to let her fear get the best of her, but the damn doubt weasels were circling fast and hard. “And this is so important.” She bit her lip and shuddered. “If I don’t get to her, Mallick will.” Her eyes widened, and she did her best to stop the hot prick of tears. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose my mother. Not after everything I did to keep her safe. Not after Nana.” Her voice broke, and she inhaled a ragged breath, trying hard to calm her out-of-control nerves.

“You won’t.” Azaiel’s low timbre sent shivers rushing across her skin.

Rowan turned in a rush, her hand skimming his taut chest. He was much too close—again—but as she stared up into his fathomless eyes, for one moment of clarity she knew it would work. She saw the power that lived inside him—it was reflected in their depths—and she drew from that. She nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

They both turned at Hannah’s shocked exclamation, and Rowan followed her cousin’s gaze, for the first time seeing what covered up the broad chest she was so close to.

“It was all that fit,” was Azaiel’s terse reply.

Behind them, Nico guffawed, and Priest snorted.

“It’s . . .” Rowan’s mouth twitched. “It’s very pink.”

Azaiel wore a tight-fitting V-neck T-shirt with a jewel-encrusted HELLO KITTY logo across the chest. The cloth had a shiny texture to it—spandex maybe—and did more to enhance the six pack he sported than anything else. He looked both ridiculous and hot all at once.

Cedric hid a grin. “I forgot I’d donated everything at the beginning of summer. There were only a few items of children’s clothes and . . . this.”

Azaiel scowled. “Can we get this done? Tick tock and all that.”

“No sense of humor, Seraphim?” Nico gloated.

Rowan turned to the jaguar, her hand raised. “Are we going to go there, Nico?”

The shifter’s grin died slowly, replaced with a scowl that was fierce, and he stepped back, arms crossed over his chest.

Rowan exhaled, her voice barely a whisper as the heaviness of the situation pressed on her. “Let’s do this. Hannah, Priest, come.” She directed them around the table, Azaiel to her left, Priest on her right, and Hannah across from her. Once they were in place she cleared everything from her mind and went to work.

She reached for the bowl, set it before her, and stared down at the dagger as her heart beat hard inside her chest. She was so damn hot. So damn scared. A week ago she’d been in Europe, flush with the excitement of her job, of being entrusted with an overseas meeting—and the lights of Paris. She’d had Mason waiting for her at home, Monday night cooking classes, and now . . . now her world was tilted, its axis spinning out of control, and she had no clue if she had what it took to set things right.

Hannah pulled a strand of her mother’s hair from the brush and dropped it into the bowl.

“You can do this Rowan.” Azaiel spoke quietly.

She nodded okay and grabbed the dagger, slicing through her palm without hesitation. The sting was instant and the burn harsh. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she held her hand over the bowl and watched her blood drip downward.

Not a word was spoken.

When enough had fallen, she placed the dagger beside her and wiped off the excess blood with the linen cloth used to store the candles. She touched her finger to the wound in her palm, closed her eyes, concentrated, and recited a healing charm. It was one of the first her mother had taught her—a simple spell used to heal scrapes and bruises.

And it was enough.

Rowan held out her hands, and their small circle was completed. She felt the strength, the well of power that the men on either side of her harnessed, and she saw how Hannah’s eyes widened. She felt it, too.

Blue eyes met as the two women gathered their own strength. Tapped into their wells of power and deep-rooted beliefs. Took from the goddess, whose spirit watched over them all.

The candles erupted in fire, each one burning brightly, as Hannah and Rowan began their spell.

Travel through the sands of time

Find us that which is mine