The Sorcerer King and the Fire Queen
Page 32
Solomon dropped the sword to the floor and rushed to my side. Anthony knelt next to me too. Both men peered down at me.
“You’re bleeding,” said Solomon. “Are you in pain?”
With Anthony’s help, he pulled me into a sitting position. Anthony snatched a throw from a chair and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“It’s nothing a few stitches won’t cure,” I said.
Shunka padded over to the body and sniffed it. Snarling, he curled his lips and hiked his leg, pissing on the corpse.
“Why didn’t you use your magic on that thing, Mom?” Anthony questioned.
“It knocked me silly. I couldn’t focus.”
Alice returned and instructed Wayne and Maureen what herbs and liquids to pour over the head and body and in what quantities. Grabbing the head by the hair, Maureen set it by the corpse and sprinkled a yellow powder over them.
“Good thinking, Solomon. An angel can be killed when in human form and only then, so this is great luck,” Alice said, working the spell. “But if the body and head aren’t destroyed, they can regenerate, so we have to work quickly.” She opened a small book and flipped to a page. “How did you know it could be killed?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“I didn’t,” he answered. Solomon gathered me into his arms and rocked me as he smoothed my bloody hair back from my face. His heartbeat thundered beneath my cheek. “I just knew I was drawn to the sword.”
I smiled against his shirt.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, Ruby,” he whispered.
“Find me again,” I said.
He snorted and hugged me. Finally, he rose, helped me to my feet and drew the throw more securely around me. “Let’s get you in the shower and rinse off the blood and glass so we can see how bad your injuries are.”
Alice spoke a few words in a bizarre language.
Quiet followed.
Finally, Alice whispered, “Oh, no.”
Solomon paused, and together, we turned toward the living room. The others stared at the place where the angel’s corpse had been, their expressions shocked and dismayed.
Horrified, I asked, “What happened to the body?”
“We didn’t work fast enough,” Alice answered.
“And that means...?” Dread filled me.
“That it has regenerated and gone somewhere safe.” She swayed and plopped down hard on an ottoman.
“Alice,” I took a few steps toward her, “you’re scaring me.”
She sighed wearily. “Just because Azazel didn’t have sex with you and impregnate you doesn’t mean that the Nephilim won’t return.”
“What?” Solomon put his arm around my shoulders again. I wasn’t so sure if it was for my support or his. “Are you saying that this angel can go around siring children regardless?”
Sadly, Alice nodded. Stress lines appeared around her mouth. “Azazel was the leader. With Ruby’s powers the rogue angels would have been invincible and they could fuel that combined power into their offspring.”
“And it also means that my mom is still in danger, doesn’t it?” asked Anthony.
Alice nodded again. “The Nephilim are the offspring of angels and humans. They grow quickly, but worse, they have the power to blend with man. They’ll infiltrate the world governments, take positions of power, and they’ll hold the world’s wealth and the lives of millions in the palm of their hands...” She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees and clasped the sides of her head as if she had a terrible headache. A tear slid down her cheek. “If that fallen angel regenerates and awakens, The Banishment was for naught.”
“Oh, Solomon,” I whispered, dreading choking me, “what do we do?”
“For now, we need to regroup and recuperate,” Solomon stated. He turned me around and pointed me toward the bathroom.
“What can I do to help?” asked Anthony.
“For now, help Alice clean up,” I said, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “It looks like we’re staying another night after all.”
He hurried into the kitchen.
Maureen threw me a worried look as she followed my son. “We’ll help, Anthony,” she said and motioned for Wayne to join them.
“I hope this is the last time we’ll see those rogue anges,” said Solomon. He directed me around the recliner.
“So do I, but I doubt it,” I replied, suddenly exhausted. My shoulders ached and burned, and my senses still struggled to right themselves. “You’re in love with a witch, so don’t forget that.”
He stopped and looked down at me. “I’ll take that witch any way I can get her.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes, and I’ll always find you, no matter what.” His eyes caught the fading sunshine and glowed. “No matter what century.”
Tracing the main scar that ran down the side of his face, I said, “I love you.”
He folded me in his arms, and I melted against his body. After a thousand years, I’d finally found my way back to my White King. I just prayed our battles were over.
About the Author
Ana Lee Kennedy loves writing stories steeped in lore, history, mythology, and her wicked sense of humor. Although she is known to pen hot paranormal and contemporary stories too.
After many actual dreams of traveling the world, Ana Lee hopes to do so soon with her husband and young son, and their first stop will be England. When she’s not writing, she can be found in her flower gardens or at one of the local lakes playing with her son and their creepily intelligent Labrador retriever. She resides in the U.S. with her family, Sir Creepy Dog, two almost-as-smart felines, and a pair of pet ducks.