Guardian Unraveled
Fallen Guardians
Georgia Lyn Hunter
Contents
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Blurb
Glossary
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Acknowledgments
Also by Georgia Lyn Hunter
About the Author
Genre: Paranormal Romance
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Guardian Unraveled
Copyright © 2017 by Georgia Lyn Hunter
First Edition: November 2017
Editor: Chelle Olsen
All cover art copyright © 2017 by Georgia Lyn Hunter
Cover artist: Montana Jade
Images: ©123rf.com, Obsidian Dawn
All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
BLURB
From the scorching pits of Tartarus, a warrior emerges with a deadly need for more than vengeance…
A loner, Dagan, lives with an inexorable thirst he’s kept hidden for eons, even from his fellow Guardians. Until he meets a beautiful, maddening human who awakens in him a hunger that shakes him to his very core, and threatens to shatter his tightly erected shields, exposing his dangerous secret. And wanting her is a path leading to destruction.
Driven to find her missing mother in a shadowy world, Shae Ion refuses to be sidetracked. When she becomes the target for a sinister force, a sinfully sexy and utterly impossible immortal abducts her, and he’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.
Stuck in an isolated place with the reclusive Guardian who allows no one close, Shae struggles to control her burgeoning powers, and is unprepared for the tangled emotions he stirs in her. But passion has a way of obliterating barriers.
However, the road to happiness is strewn with treachery. Nothing is sacred or safe. When a ruthless old enemy resurfaces, and comes after Shae, they are drawn into a terrifying, supernatural battle. And not even Dagan, a lethal immortal warrior who’d lay down his life for her, can save her now…
GLOSSARY
Absolute Laws: Forbidding the mating between mortal and immortal. If broken, the couple is executed.
Ancients: The mystical forces that watches over all realms.
Archangel: Michael-Leader of the Fallen Guardians (also referred by the Guardians as “Arc.” A term coined by Týr, and used by the others)
Blood Demons: A species of demons who live on blood, but like the high of human blood. Since human souls aren’t meant for them, the souls die after a few days, forcing the demoniis to seek new ones. But consuming human blood along with the soul, extend the soul’s life a little longer.
Celestial Realm: Home to the divine angels.
Dark Realm: Where the species with dark souls dwell, demons, demonii, wyvern (a seven-foot tall lizard-like creature), etc. Along with other amorphous entities like Caligos and Jaedas who steal corporeal bodies—Caligos thrive on emotions, and steal human bodies. They don’t eat or drink. Jaedas prefer immortal bodies to inhabit.
Demonii: Turned demons. When they first steal a human soul, they lose their dark ones.
Demons: A species of supernatural beings with dark souls who resides in the Dark Realm.
Empyreans: They were created in the image of the divine angels but enjoy a more carnal life. Two level denizens: High-level—the Lords (With vast powers)
Lower-level—the working class (limited or lesser powers)
Hedori-Lower level, but gifted with stronger powers when he was elected as a protector to the crown prince of Empyrea.
Fallen: Angels who fall, and give up their wings and stronger abilities when they leave the Celestial Realm.
Fallen Guardians: A formidable group of fallen immortal warriors, banished from their realm, who swore fealty to Gaia to protect humans from supernatural evil. And resides on Earth. Some of whom are referred to by their pantheon’s name.
Gaia: A powerful mystical Being who watches over Earth and mankind.
Nephilim: Half angel offspring born from human females and divine angel mating.
Otiums: A species of demons, more docile in nature. Many of whom escaped the tyranny of their world to dwell on Earth. They usually live below the radar in the human world, not keen to draw attention to themselves.
Others: A collective term for other supernatural beings, eg: gods, faes, vampires, etc.
Pantheons: Where the gods of various religions dwells.
Psionics: The human descendants of the Watchers. (All females)
Rogues: Angels who refuse to lose their wings and stronger powers. They escape the Celestial Realm and go into hiding on Earth.
Seraphim: The highest-level angels who oversees all things.
Sins: The Seven Deadly Sins. Created by an Ancient mystical force for justice and balance of the realms.
Tartarus: Where immortals’ are incarcerated.
Throne: Third level divine angels, created for war.
Urias: Spawned off Chaos, Creator of the Empyreans.
Watchers: Higher-level angels who were tasked to watch over fledgling mankind, but fell in love with mortal women.
Whitefire: An immortal flame that can cause untold destruction. Used to destroy the wings and abilities of angels who fall.
Name pronunciation:
Dagan: Day-gun
Týr- Tier
To my late parents, George and Ann
I miss you so much,
love you always.
***
Jen
“Thank you” is not enough for all you’ve done…and do.
Love you, girl.
Prologue
1483 BC
Days…endless days.
Gray skies. Impossible heat. Yet there was no sun.
Dust caked his eyelashes and lined his mouth. Dagan could barely see. He swallowed—or tried to, but couldn’t. His throat had long since dried up, and his swollen tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Trees shimmered in the distance. Water. Shoving back hunks of grimy knotted hair covering his face, he pitched toward the oasis, craving the relief. As he neared it, the mirage flickered and vanished, revealing an unending sea of lifeless, gray, arid landscape. No water or shelter, just a few bone-dry trees and sand.
No! The denial reverberated in his head. He had no idea how long he’d been here…months, years since he started chasing the mirage. A never-ending cycle trapped in this godsforsaken place where nothing survived. Except him.
&
nbsp; His knees gave way. He fell to the scorching sands, a husk hovering close to death, one he could never seek.
“For the lifeblood you shed, death is too easy for you…” An emotionless whisper. “Eternity will be your reminder bound to your need—a prison you cannot escape—a curse you’ll regret when it matters the most. It will be your downfall…”
At the familiar words, Dagan forced his eyes open. Pain tore through his eyelids, maybe his lashes were ripped out. He didn’t know or care as he searched the desolate place. There was no one around.
A strident hiss pierced his ears. A violent flutter of leathery wings erupted near him. Dozens of red eyes. They swooped down in a harsh screech, viciously tearing at his belly. Unimaginable agony ricocheted through his body. He bared his teeth at the huge monstrous black birds, fists lashing out with feeble hits, his strength that of a babe. Dry lips split apart. Blood seeped.
Blinded by hunger, he grabbed one of the avians by its featherless neck and bit hard, ripping out its larynx. Blood flowed down his chin. He gagged, retching out the gore. And his parched tongue finally unglued from the roof of his mouth. Some of the blood slid down his throat. He flung the bird aside, swiping at his lips, wanting the metallic taste gone. With no water, he sighed and closed his swollen eyelids…
When he awakened again, his torn belly and dry peeling skin had healed. He had no idea how much time had passed.
The days drifted past. There was no sign of the grisly birds, and he withered away once more, back to just skin shrunken over bones as he crawled the never-ending desert, his hunger raging.
Raucous noise and furiously beating wings exploded around him, shattering the stillness.
The vampiric vultures were back...
Chapter 1
The rhythmic thudding of hundreds of heartbeats crowded Dagan’s head.
Thump, thump, thump… Hypnotic. Enticing. The draw dangerous, inevitable, if he’d let it.
It was always this way when he first appeared on patrol. Primitive urges locked down, it should be a night like thousands of others in his long life. But this one, the worst.
All Hallows Eve was a damn pain in the ass.
Hunkered on the rooftop of a warehouse in the Bowery, he coolly eyed the noisy line of humans snaking the sidewalk of Club Nocte, waiting to gain entrance.
Why would Blaéz ask him to check out this area first?
Besides the foolish mortals disguised as what they imagined went bump in the night—hell, they sure made it easy for the real scourges lurking within the depths of the decrepit backstreet to lure them in and snuff out their feeble little lives—he didn’t sense any sign of supernatural disturbance.
Dagan scanned the alley again, his focus narrowing on a couple. The male dressed in a long, black cape, his arm thrown over the shoulders of a nun in a short habit, hurried the female along. Moonlight underscoring his face pale and a red mouth with pointy canines. Count Dracul. Of course.
The twosome headed deeper into the disreputable area with no idea of the dangers that prowled the night. With demoniis out in droves hunting prey, it was always a mess leading up to this night.
Despite the distance, he could clearly see and hear the wannabe vampire. The idiot pushed the nun against a wall, hands fumbling under her tunic. “Let me sink my fangs into you, pretty one…” His voice deepened, probably his idea of vamp talk. Dagan’s lips twisted in cynicism.
“Yes, my dark prince.” The nun laughed, arching into him, her black veil falling back and exposing her smooth, tan neck. “Bite me—make me immortal.”
The man snickered, sucking on her neck instead. Lost in their world of make-believe, she had no idea of the true danger lurking nearby. How absurdly effortless it would be to walk up to her. He wouldn’t even have to say a word, and she’d be his for the taking.
Go. It’s what you want, the dark thoughts unfurled in the pits of his mind, coiling tighter around him. Satisfy the hunger that plagues you.
His powerful mental shields shuddered. His fangs lengthened.
No! He was a Guardian, sworn to protect these reckless humans, not kill. With shaky hands, he pulled out a half-smoked cigar from his pocket, put the thing between his lips, and struck a match on the wall. Palms cupped around the flame, he lit it. Inhaling deeply, he let the scented, sedative smoke saturate his lungs and cloak his thirst.
For now.
As he blew out a thin stream of smoke, the acrid sensation of insidious evil coasted over his skin. The mystical Gaian sword tattooed on his biceps stirred in warning. His gaze sharpened, rapidly sweeping past Dracul and his nun, honing in on the two figures lumbering toward them. They slowed near the recessed doorway where the couple tugged at each other’s clothes.
“By Hades,” the tall demonii rasped in delight. “I do enjoy this time of year more than any other. I want her.”
“What the—?” The man pivoted. “Get lost, assholes!”
Guttural laughter ripped the air. “We cannot oblige. See, we want not just her but you, too.” The shorter, heftier demonii punched the human in the face. The tall one snatched the woman around her waist and licked her face.
Dagan killed his smoke. Before her screams tore through the night, he immobilized the four with his mind. Pocketing the cigar, he flashed down, freeing the humans from his hold.
He summoned his pulsing weapon. In an eddy of gray smoke, the obsidian sword took shape, the mystical inscriptions glowing briefly as he swung the deadly blade, decapitating both demoniis in one lethal stroke. They fell to their knees, bodies disintegrating within seconds.
“Whoa!” the man gasped. “That’s so cool.”
Dagan pivoted. The couple gawked at him in a drunken stupor, like he was a savior or something for rescuing their foolish asses. Grim Reaper would be more fitting.
“Leave,” he snapped, letting his eyes glow.
Without a word, they stumbled off. In their inebriated state, they’d undoubtedly assume it was all part of the Halloween scene. As he dismissed his sword, an eerie, icy sensation slid over his psyche. Not demoniis…something else.
Motionless, he waited, letting the cerebral wave surround him, then a crackle, like ice shattering, fury slid over him. And he knew.
There you are, asshole…
It had been a long damn wait for the psychic killer to show up again.
Slipping through the shadows, he followed the strains of violence abrading his mind. None could hide their psychic signature from him for long, yet this mortal he’d been hunting for several months had done just that. This time, he’d get the slippery bastard.
He passed a rundown motorcycle club with flashing neon lights. The stares that came his way from the bikers hanging outside didn’t bother him. His extreme six-foot-eight height, and his waist-length hair he usually wore in several warrior braids always drew notice.
Moments later, he slowed, the trail dead-ending outside a warehouse. The scent of fresh blood beckoned him like a beautiful siren and his jaw clenched. The alley remained quiet, but not for long. Two homeless humans began bickering deeper in the alley.
Before they arrived and mucked up the psychic vibration of his prey, Dagan studied the three dead bodies. Two were reduced to nothing but fleshy meat-sacks, bones and muscles pulverized. Blood and gore dripped out of their ears, nose, and mouth. The other had been stabbed in his side. If it were just the knifed man, Dagan would have walked. Humans killing each other were not his problem.
The pile of rags with the knife wound shuddered. A low moan left the vagrant as he stumbled to his feet and tripped over the bodies. He cursed drunkenly. “B-bastard, tryin’ to take my food.”
“Hold it.” Dagan grabbed his arm. The ripe fumes coming off him had Dagan keeping his breathing shallow. “What happened?”
The homeless clutched his bleeding side. “He t-took my cart, stabbed me—”
“Who else was here?”
“Want my cart back. Satan. He kill ‘em bodies. Three bodies. Pooffff—one gone.” He s
wung his arms wildly, spittle flying everywhere. Dagan hastily evaded the saliva rain. “Gonna use his weapon…kill—kill!” He made stabbing motions. “Want my cart back—want my cart.” He zigzagged off.
It had to be a demon. Only they were pulled back into the Dark Realm at the time of true death.
One of the dead snagged his attention, though. Frowning, Dagan lowered to his heels near the pulverized body and slipped his hand beneath the man’s shirt. Sure enough, he found the telltale ridges that ran down his shoulder blades where wings should have been. A Fallen.
Shit. This killer would be dangerous to not only the human populace but the Guardians, as well. In a flash, the last moments of the man’s life passed through Dagan’s mind…
A surge of fear exploded as he rose into the air. He couldn’t breathe. His skull compressed. Unrelenting pain spread. “Don’t—don’t do it…” a plea, then resonating silence… Death.
Nothing to point Dagan to what the killer looked like or who it was. However, the same bitter iciness he’d been tracking these last months prevailed in this place.
He mind-linked with Aethan, needing the Empyrean’s abilities to clear out this psychic killing before the human authorities came across the bodies and led them down a path that would cause Michael to go bat-shit crazy. Downtown. Have a mess here.
The killer struck again? the warrior asked.
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