“What the fuck do we do?” Mark asked, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“What are those things?” the woman asked, springing from the boulder to grasp his brother’s arm.
Wordlessly, Tristan handed the girl to his brother. These creatures were Shadow Hounds, some of the most dangerous beings in existence. Their bites were poisonous to the soul, ensuring that when a person died, they would be gone forever.
There was only one thing that could be done. Mark had to live. He was the only person who could find the other gods and goddesses. And the goddess and her child must live. Only one thing made sense.
“Take them and go.”
Mark stiffened. “No.”
“You know it’s the only way.”
The eyes moved in the dark, coming closer.
“You always say that,” Mark whispered.
“And I’m always right.”
His brother took a step back, clutching the sleeping girl to his chest. “Can they hurt you?”
“No.” Tristan spoke the lie with ease.
Mark nodded. “Then, I’ll take them and come back for you.”
Goodbye, my brother.
“Stay close,” Mark told the woman.
She nodded and they moved backwards.
Tristan stretched out his massive stone wings to their full spread and let loose the roar of a gargoyle, a sound that was ancient and harsh. Dark birds exploded from the trees all around them, filling the bright night sky. His distraction did the trick. All eyes were on him. Mark and the woman shuffled away unseen.
When the first creature stepped out of the shadows, Tristan stared at the dark wisp with two brilliant red eyes. Suddenly, he spotted a flash of sharp teeth forming in the insubstantial body. When it leapt at him, he easily knocked it back with his wings.
The creature whimpered like a dog, but Tristan had no time to relax because two more of the beasts came at him. He ducked, struck one with his wing and the other with his fist. Both flew back. One hit a trunk with a satisfying crunch.
But he already knew. There was no destroying these beings. All he could do was fight as long as possible.
He would fight until he took his last breath, and give Mark and the goddess the time they needed to reach the sanctuary.
As the Shadow Hounds renewed their attack, Tristan's thoughts shifted to his long life. He thought of his birth, when a frightened woman created him from stone. Her fear of the vampires that preyed upon her town drove her to make him, but it was her love for her family that brought him to life.
Many years passed when he provided protection to the small town. But times shifted and he spent more and more time as a stone figure, no longer taking interest in life. When the small girl’s terrified screams brought him back to life, he had been surprised by the clan of vampires that had overrun the town. He’d fought with all the strength in his heart. But it hadn’t been enough.
He’d been destroyed. Not broken to pieces as many of his brothers before him, but killed in his human form. That’s when he’d died and become a demon.
Meeting his brothers and finding Surcy had melted his stone heart. They made him human once more.
One of the dark creatures sunk its sharp teeth into his wing. His breath froze in his chest as the being’s poison swam through his blood, and he felt pieces of his soul being torn away. He smacked the creature backwards, but another jumped on his shoulder from behind.
In a rush, they overtook him. They were everywhere. Their teeth broke stone and he could feel their hot poison rushing through him.
A young man with sad eyes appeared within the shadows of the woods. Death. He was a being more legend than truth.
Tristan stopped fighting. There was no choice. No escape now.
Something came crashing through the woods. The animals scattered as a flash of light illuminated the clearing. And there was Surcy, her soul-blade flaming with white light. The dark creatures screamed, scattering from the light.
But she didn’t let them go. She sunk her blade into one after another. Leaping on them. Spinning. Charging. Cutting them to pieces.
Daniel caught his shoulder as he sank to his knees. Feeling empty. There was a touch of pride that his beautiful angel was such a warrior. There was a touch of sadness that the life he had grown to love was now slipping away. And then, nothing.
He grew cold. His stone limbs hardened.
Death moved closer, his pale flesh almost translucent. His piercing golden eyes filled with compassion. He moved unseen through Surcy as she fought.
In a haze, Tristan felt Daniel shaking him, shouting words he couldn’t hear. Daniel's face showed his panic, but Tristan didn't care. He was past caring.
Tristan gazed on Death once more. The young man knelt only inches in front of him, and where he knelt the grass beneath him died.
Tristan nodded. Knowing what was to come.
Tiny wisps of silver light floated up from the dead creatures that now littered the floor. They lit the sky in a display of magic unlike any Tristan had witnessed. And then, the wisps shot toward him, striking him one after another in the chest.
Like bullets, each brought a wave of pain. Blood spilled from his lips, and he cried out. His stone flesh was gone, replaced by his demon one. His wounds were many and severe, painful in a way Tristan had never experienced before.
He gasped, hating the tears that burned his eyes. The wisps continued to fill the sky as Surcy continued her rampage. She had to stop. He would beg her to stop. Whatever she was doing, he preferred death to this pain.
But the words wouldn’t leave his lips.
Daniel’s words were a dull roar in his ears. Desperate, frightened roars.
Death opened his mouth, and a deep but kind voice came to him. “Not today, Tristan. But one day, you’ll be welcomed as a hero to the place of Judgment. Again.” Death rose, a smile on his face. He turned and walked through Surcy. He continued through the woods until he vanished into the trees.
Tristan hit the ground on his side. Warm blood pooled beneath him.
Surcy was suddenly beside him, her glowing sword still in her hand.
“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m so sorry. Killing the creatures was the only way to retrieve the pieces of your soul. Breathe for me. I know it hurts, but please, breathe. You’re going to be okay.”
He took in a ragged breath, his gaze filled by her beautiful face. “I—love—you.”
Her eyes widened, and she reached out and stroked his cheek. “Foolish gargoyle.” But there was a tenderness in her voice that filled his heart with hope.
“Where’s Mark and the humans?” Daniel asked.
Tristan didn’t have the strength to turn his head. “Hopefully, safely at the sanctuary.”
Daniel’s voice came, as if from a great distance. “What now?”
And then, everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Three
M
ark felt sick as they trekked through the woods. Tristan would be okay. Right? He was a gargoyle. He was strong and powerful and had lived for centuries before his death. Even a dozen of the Shadow Hounds couldn’t kill him.
Right?
“Are we close?” the human woman sounded terrified.
He didn’t blame her.
“We should be there any—“
The air suddenly tingled. He stiffened, but kept going until he moved through the magical barrier. The magic kept beings from teleporting in and out, which should have reassured him, but he never liked the feeling of crossing it. I guess it’s different now that these aren’t my lands.
A few minutes later, they came out into the clearing, and stepped through the second barrier at the same time. A barrier that keeps all with ill intentions out. As the powerful magic washed over him, the clearing shimmered and changed. Where only woods had once been, a massive white structure now stood.
His heart squeezed. He had been so young and naïve the last time he’d been here. More than anything he wa
nted to hate this place and these people, but he knew he never could.
As they continued walking, vines reached out and stroked him as he passed. White flowers blossomed, a greeting for a friend long gone. He touched the soft petals, the pain in his chest deepening. There was no place like The Sanctuary of the Druids. Nowhere in the world.
He was positive. He’d spent far too long looking for one.
“What is this place?” the woman whispered, her voice filled with awe.
“A sanctuary for the gods,” he told her.
They moved up the dozen pale stone steps, almost entirely overwhelmed by vines. More vines hung from the massive structure, dangling down. They parted at his approach, revealing the inner-sanctuary.
The air was humid. Heavy. In the center of the room a pool of natural water flowed, crystal blue. Illuminating flowers covered the bottom of the water, lighting it with a beauty unlike any place on earth.
The palace-sized room was filled with jungle-like plants that blossomed with a multitude of colors. The aroma in the air was so rich, so comforting, that his throat closed remembering his childhood spent in such a beautiful place.
Behind the pool of water, a mantel of silver glowing flowers drew his gaze to the alter. On the highest shelf, his staff lay broken in half. Never to glow again. Never to fill with light.
“Son?”
His gaze swung to his right. His father stood, looking older than he remembered him, but no less dignified. His brown and green robes still cloaked him from head to foot, and the vines upon him moved continuously, weaving new patterns even as he stood. The brown staff in his hand was made of dark wood. The ball of magic that flickered at the top of it was a flawless, piercing green.
“You are exiled from this place,” his father said, his deep voice holding no emotion. “Why have you returned?”
Mark held the child in his arms more tightly, and then turned to regard the pale woman behind him. “I have brought a goddess.”
His father made a sound that could only be described as disgusted. “This, again? My foolish boy. How did I fail you so terribly?”
Mark swallowed hard, his teeth clenching together. “I’m not lying. I was never lying. I found her and I’ve brought her here to keep her safe.” Then, meeting his father’s gaze, he continued. “I intend to find all of them and restore them to power.”
His father didn’t look at the woman. He simply shook his head. “What you want is impossible. Leave this place before the others see you. I would not have your blood spilt upon sacred ground.”
Mark felt something snap within him. He laid the girl upon the mossy ground and took the woman’s clammy hand. She didn’t protest as he led her to the waters.
It took his father a ridiculously long time to realize what he intended.
“No!” he shouted, and the word held power.
His father’s staff burned more brightly, and the vines upon the walls lifted, as if awakening. Waiting for his command.
“You will not place a human in the sacred waters! You will not defile this place more than you already have.”
Mark knew his father expected him to simply obey him. He always had before. He’d always been such a good boy. A dedicated druid. The hope of his people.
So when he took two more steps and gently pushed the woman into the water, no one expected it but him. She hit the warm liquid with a splash that echoed through the room. Around him, vines lifted and shot forward, grasping his wrists and his ankles. Thorns grew, their sharp points cutting into his flesh.
But he didn’t move. He didn’t care.
His gaze was trained on the woman who sank down into the deep waters. Her hair floated around her. The golden flowers wrapped her, holding her to the bottom of the pond. Panic grew in her eyes as she struggled to free herself.
Holding his breath, he waited. Sweat trickled down his back. He wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t be wrong. He wouldn’t have thrown an innocent woman to her death.
“You would kill a human just to prove your point?” His father was closer, close enough for Mark to feel the warmth of the magic dancing on the tip of his staff.
Come on, Carys! Be the goddess I know you are!
Her struggling grew more intense. Bubbles exploded from her mouth. And then, her movements slowed.
His hands clutched into his fists. He willed the vines that imprisoned him to release him, but these plants no longer obeyed his commands. Tugging at his arms, he prepared himself. No matter the cost, if he was wrong, he would save this woman.
“It would be a mercy to kill you,” his father said, his staff glowing more and more brightly as he called his magic to him.
Mark didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He watched the woman, begging her with every ounce of his being, but her eyes grew glossy, and her movements stopped.
He choked on the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He jerked his arms, sending vines breaking. He kicked at his legs. He had to get free. He had to save her. It seemed impossible that he could have been so wrong. Wrong about everything.
The prophecy he had seen as a child couldn’t be wrong. His second-sight, the one that led him to the goddess couldn’t be a lie.
Was all of it truly in his head as his father had always said?
And then, Carys’ body jerked. Life flared back into her eyes, but it wasn’t just life. It was light. An unexplainable beauty that made tears sting the corners of his eyes. Her human flesh fell away, like petals from a flower. It could have been grotesque, but it was stunning. An old life was peeling away, revealing the beauty within.
And the goddess was beautiful. The flowers released her, and her body rose in the waters.
“This isn’t possible,” his father whispered.
But no matter that all logic said it couldn’t be true. It was. The goddess broke free from the confines of her human self. She pulled herself from the waters, and he took several steps back. Water dripped down her long legs, and soaked her clothes.
Her face had changed. It was still her, and yet, it was as if someone had taken a rock and cleaned it until it shown. A gem hidden by dirt and dust. Her eyes held an inhuman green, yellow quality that rested on him with an intensity that stole his breath. Her smooth skin glowed with health and beauty, and her hair shined.
“I feel... different.” She murmured. “I’m myself, but I’m not.”
He found his voice. “You are an immortal creature. Your role is to judge humanity and give them the afterlife that they deserve. And yet, Caine erased your memories. In his cruelty, he makes you suffer in each of your lifetimes. If he finds you, he will kill you again. This is the only place he can’t reach you. It's protected by the druid’s ancient magic, which is nearly as old as the world itself. You and your daughter need to stay here until I find the others.”
She nodded. “I don’t remember who I was. But I remember before I started taking the drugs. I was so young. Every time I was near anyone, I could sense their heart’s desires. I could see parts of their life path, and how it led to the person they were meant to be with.”
The goddess reached out, and instinctually, he knelt before her. She touched his cheek, her eyes locked onto his. He felt her magic. Flowing around him, through him. Like a powerful aura that radiated love and beauty, he was overwhelmed by it.
When she released him, he sucked in a deep breath, feeling too much, feeling things he didn’t understand.
A smile formed on her lips. “Your angel... she is lucky to have you.”
Behind them, a soft voice whispered, “Mom?”
She moved away from him, taking her overwhelming power with her.
He remained kneeling, his head spinning.
“A goddess,” his father murmured. “This isn’t possible.”
Mark's gaze moved to the old druid and he slowly rose to his feet. “I told you. We didn’t have to just accept the darkness in this world. There was something we could do about it.”
His father’s blue eyes, the same c
lear color as his own, stared through him. “How?”
Mark didn’t touch the necklace around his throat. The one his father couldn’t see. “I can find them. I could always sense them. I just didn’t know what it was.”
“We thought you were crazy,” his father said. “We thought your ideas would bring about our ruin.”
Mark turned from his father and headed back the way he had come, to where the goddess held her daughter in her lap, speaking softly. “I was never going to ruin the sanctuary. I was never going to ruin all of you. But you certainly thought you destroyed me that day, didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” the old man said, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t have known.”
You could have put your faith in me. “I know this goddess, and the others, will be safe with all of you.”
“You have my word,” his father said, his voice overwhelmed with emotion. “This changes everything. There is a chance at defeating Caine. There is a chance at bringing back the world we once knew.”
He glanced back at his father. ”Yes, there is.”
Just outside the sanctuary, he sent his brothers a text.
She got here safely. Heading back.
As he started back through the woods, he began to jog, and then to run. He had saved the goddess and her child. Now he needed to find Tristan. He needed to be sure he’d gotten away.
The trees were blurs around him. His breath rushed in and out. When he broke into the small clearing, he stared and stared. In the center, blood darkened the ground.
Moving without feeling his legs, he came to the spot. Before it, the grass had died. Mark was a druid. A being who never simply disappeared into the afterlife. His people were treasured, and always led to the afterlife by Death.
And the dead grass? It was a tell-tale sign that Death had been there.
He crumpled to his knees. Feeling numb. There were no body, but then, there wouldn’t be. His brother was a demon. His body would disappear. And his soul? The Shadow Hounds would have destroyed it.
How is this possible?
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Numbly, he pulled his phone out. A text waited. We’re all back at the car.
Mates of the Realms: The Complete Collection: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Box Set Page 42
