Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2)

by Morgana Phoenix

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “He does not have very much longer.”

  Serinda closed the door leading into Kyaerin and Liam’s bedchambers and faced the small crowd gathered in the corridor.

  “How much longer?” Octavian demanded.

  At his side, Riley was weeping softly into her hands. Imogen was behind her, huddled on the ground with her knees pulled to her chest and her face buried in the folds of her arms. Valkyrie stood next to Gideon, wishing she could cry, but all she felt was numbness and a profound sorrow that seemed to bloom from the very depths of her soul. She hadn’t known Liam very well, but he had been more of a father to her than her own father. The thought of losing him left a hole in her chest she didn’t know what to do with.

  “Another day at the most,” Serinda was saying when Valkyrie focused again. “I have given them both a very strong sleeping drought. I doubled his. It will take the poison longer to circulate if his heart isn’t beating as fast as it usually does. It isn’t much, but it will give you time.”

  Valkyrie remembered Devlin telling her to calm down or the poison would spread faster.

  “What’s the antidote?” Gideon asked.

  Serinda shook her head. “As far as I know, there isn’t one for siren’s blood.”

  “There is one!” Gideon snarled at her. “I gave it to Valkyrie.”

  “Then you need to find the person who gave it to you and ask them.”

  “He’s dead!” Gideon cried.

  Serinda looked almost remorseful, at least as remorseful as a Harvester is permitted.

  “I am sorry there is nothing more I can do.”

  With that, Serinda left them, leaving a silence in her absence that was broken only by weeping.

  “Fuck this.” Magnus spun on his heels. “I’m not waiting around here for him to die. I’m going to find the cure, even if I have to kill someone to get it.”

  No one stopped him.

  Riley slid down next to Imogen. Octavian, Gideon, and Reggie stared at the door as if waiting for the answer to appear there. But none did.

  “There has to be something in Dad’s books,” Octavian said after what felt like hours. “Someone made the cure once. We just have to find out who and if we can get more.”

  “I’ll stay with them,” Riley volunteered. Her bottom lip trembled. “He ... they shouldn’t be alone, in case he wakes up and needs something.”

  Octavian nodded. He brushed a kiss to her brow before motioning everyone else to follow him. They spent the rest of the night poring over every book in the room and there were many. Liam had collected volumes on everything from rocks to lore and dinosaurs. Yet not one of them had any information on siren’s blood.

  By dawn, they were blurry-eyed and exhausted. Magnus still hadn’t returned and Liam was getting worse. Kyaerin still hadn’t woken up, but they all agreed that was for the best.

  “We need a demon,” Gideon said after their twentieth cup of coffee. “We’ll give them freedom, or whatever they want if they can heal him.”

  “We can’t just bring demons up here,” Octavian protested. “We can’t trust them. We need to find a siren.”

  “Sirens hate us,” Reggie reminded his brothers. “They’d never help.”

  The three fell silent.

  Valkyrie continued to stare at the book in front of her. She had no idea what it was about, but her tired eyes refused to look at anything else without shutting. Across from her, Imogen was slumped over a book of fossils. A healthy puddle of drool dampened the pages under her cheek.

  “I think we should get some sleep,” Octavian declared when Reggie yawned loudly. “We’ll start again in a few hours with fresh eyes.”

  Chairs skidded away from the table and everyone rose. The noise jolted Imogen and she bolted upright.

  “I put it over there!” she blurted.

  Everyone chuckled tiredly.

  Reggie ushered Imogen to her room. Octavian went to get Riley and Gideon turned to Valkyrie.

  “Can I sleep with my wife tonight?”

  She almost felt bad for kicking him out their bed the night before.

  “I’d like that,” she confessed.

  But sleep never came. While Gideon slept soundly next to her, Valkyrie stared at the darkness painted over head and thought of Liam only a few doors down. What if he didn’t have until later? What if they didn’t find a cure in time? The anxiety ate at her until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  Rolling out of bed, she dressed quietly and left the room. No one greeted her as she crept into Liam and Kyaerin’s chambers. Riley was no longer there. Her seat sat empty next to the bed. Valkyrie moved deeper into the room and stood over the man who cared so effortlessly and without reservation and frowned.

  “I knew your kindness would eventually get you killed,” she mumbled. “But I know, even if you make it through this, you’re not going to change, because it’s not in you. You are incapable of not caring.” She paused and looked across at the blonde curled up against his side. “This family isn’t ready to lose you.” She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t ready either.

  As a final act of kindness, Valkyrie tucked the blankets more securely around them and left with one thought in mind: finding a cure; there was only one person who could help them and Valkyrie was desperate enough to try anything.

  Baron Legal Office sat between a bakery and a flower shop on a street glistening with early morning light. The air was crisp and quiet with the occasional sound of traffic on the street over. The sign on the glass door told the world that the office was closed and to return during the times listed below.

  Valkyrie ignored it. She yanked open the door and stalked inside.

  The cramped little space was barely large enough to hold the metal desk pushed into one corner and the single sofa in the other. In between, a narrow corridor led to three doors. The normalcy of it was amusing, and a tad bit disturbing. Nevertheless, she kept a firm grasp on the hilt of her blade as she crossed the room to the last door.

  Blinding white light erupted from the seam, paralyzing her as her eyes blinked to focus. The extravagant penthouse gleamed with a sharpness that couldn’t possibly be natural. Compared to the dark little office behind her, this place was spacious and not at all normal. For one, she knew for a fact that there were no mountains anywhere near, or around the law office, yet the curve of windows spanning from wall to wall overlooked a scenic view of the Rockies and not just the Rockies, but a high vantage point, like they were hovering miles above them. On her right, a small sitting area overlooked the view. Everything was white, like the entire room had been doused in paint. It was clearly not a kid friendly type of place.

  “One to see Mr. Baron?”

  The voice erupted out of nowhere. The unexpected intrusion nearly scared the skin off Valkyrie. Out of sheer reflexes, her hand whipped out her dagger and she whirled, prepared to strike.

  The she-demon arched a thin, blonde brow over a pair of scarlet glasses in the shape of cat eyes. She seemed only mildly irritated at the prospect of being impaled. Her pouty red lips pursed and she drew her clipboard securely to her chest, crushing her red and white striped blouse.

  “I will have to ask you to put that away,” she announced tartly. “Mr. Baron has a no violence policy.”

  The chief demon of hell had a no violence policy. There was irony in there somewhere. Valkyrie was almost certain of it. Nevertheless, she stowed her dagger back into her boot.

  “Thank you,” the other woman said and peered down at her clipboard like her next line was written there. “Please follow me.”

  With that, she twirled flawlessly on the spiky point of her black heels and flounced down the curved room. Her long, red tail swayed seductively with her runway flounce. Valkyrie tried not to watch, but even she was fascinated by the hypnotic sashay.

  They passed a bar and came to a halt at a door just on the other side. The she-demon knocked twice before pushing the door open a crack and poking her hea
d inside.

  “Mr. Baron? There is a Harvester here to see you.”

  “Yes, thank you, Jacinta. I have been expecting her.”

  Jacinta nudged the door open the rest of the way and motioned Valkyrie inside. She didn’t even wait before shutting it; Valkyrie felt the brush of it against her back, forcing her to take a quick step forward to avoid getting caught.

  The room was like the rest of the place, white, sparse, and very clean. The only splash of colors came from the plants thriving in the corners and the little man behind the enormous white desk. Behind him, the giant windows looked down at what Valkyrie could have sworn were the Mountains of Tibet.

  “I was feeling very zenny today,” Baron informed her, catching her eyeing his scenery.

  There was no surprise on his face, no curiosity at her presence there, which in turn didn’t surprise her. Baron was one of the most powerful demons in the underworld. There was nothing he didn’t know and there was nothing he couldn’t do with just the snap of his fingers. There were those who feared him even more than they feared the angels. Valkyrie was one of them. But she tucked that fear behind a solid wall of defiance and determination.

  “You know why I’m here,” she stated.

  Baron inclined his head. “I do.”

  He motioned her to have a seat, and she noted there was only one chair. Still, she walked to it and sat.

  “How are you, Valkyrie?” he asked almost kindly, like a grandfather asking the wellbeing of his granddaughter.

  “I am fine.” But the words came through between stiff lips and a whole stream of tension.

  His blue eyes apprised her and she knew he knew she was lying.

  “Certainly you feel a little sadness,” he coaxed. “Losing a child—”

  “I am not here to discuss that,” she snapped. “I need to know if you can help me or not?”

  He seemed to contemplate this a moment while regarding her through those shrewd little eyes. Gradually, he reached into the front drawer of his desk and removed a vial filled with clear liquid that emanated a faint, blue glow. He set it gently on the table between them and leaned back in his chair.

  “I’m presuming that is what you seek.”

  Valkyrie had only seen the potion the once when Reginald had set it on the table at Final Judgment, but it seemed right.

  “This is the antidote for siren’s blood?” she clarified.

  “The one and the same.” He eyed the tiny bottle. “Horribly rare. Eons ago, I procured several vials to keep in case of an emergency. Go ahead,” he said when Valkyrie made no move towards it. “It’s what you came for, isn’t it?”

  Valkyrie still didn’t touch it. “What do you want in return? You claim it is rare and clearly valuable. What is your price?”

  There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Nothing. Liam is an old friend and we will consider this my contribution to his wellbeing. But...” He grinned. “I have to ask, is this truly the thing you want above all else?”

  Valkyrie frowned. “Of course it is. Liam will die without it.”

  “Yes...” he mused slowly. “But if I could offer you anything...?”

  She shot to her feet. “I only want the potion,” she muttered, refusing to allow him the chance to charm her into giving up something she would regret later.

  “Very well.” He sat back in his chair. “By all means then.”

  Wary, she reached for it. The glass was cool against her touch like someone had filled it with liquid ice. It weighed nothing for something that meant so much.

  “Safe journies back, Valkyrie,” Baron said. “Give my regards to Liam.”

  With that, Valkyrie found herself leaving his office. Jacinta was nowhere to be seen as she made her way back to the law firm and out into the early morning chill. The sun glinted off the chrome frame of her motorcycle as she crossed to it in three quick strides. She tucked the vial securely into the pocket of her coat and swung a leg over the bike. The machine roared to life with a simple twist of her wrist and she shot down the street towards home.

  The quiet interior creaked with the hollow sound of non-movement. She suspected everyone was still sleeping and was relieved no one would see her sneak into Liam and Kyaerin’s bedroom. The last thing she wanted was to answer questions, especially about where she got the potion. She doubted Gideon would pat her on the back for even approaching Baron. Nevertheless, her feet moved with quick precision through the house.

  The room was painted in thick shadows, but Valkyrie could just make out the pair on the massive four-poster bed. Pale fingers of light broke through the cracks in the thick drapes and spilled in thin points across the hardwood. They shimmered when Valkyrie walked through them. Despite her heels, her feet made no sound.

  On the bed, Kyaerin had her head tucked low against her chest, curled up on her side like a child into her husband’s side. One slender arm was hooked around his middle and she clutched him like the thought of letting go was unbearable. Liam hadn’t moved at all. He lay on his back, hands down at his sides. But it was the gray tinge haloing his complexion that had Valkyrie’s heart racing. For one horrific moment, she truly thought he was dead. That she was too late.

  Willing down the panic clawing its way up her chest, she lowered her head to his chest. Her own breathing was halted while she waited. Seconds yawned into what felt like minutes before her own heart calmed enough so she could hear the faint drumming of his.

  “Thank you!” she muttered to no one in particular.

  Moving fast, she tore the stopper off the bottle and took his chin in hand. She lifted it just enough to get all the liquid between his firm lips without spilling a drop. Then she waited, waited for change, waited for some sign of recovery. She stayed standing there, empty vial gripped tight in a sweaty palm as morning shifted to afternoon behind the curtains.

  His coloring returned first. She watched the gray dissolve to a normal, acceptable pink. It was an hour after that before his hand shifted off the mattress and smoothed through Kyaerin’s curls. She remained sleeping, but his lashes fluttered and his eyes slid open. They peered up at the ceiling before finding Valkyrie.

  “Valkyrie?”

  Relief speared through her with such force, it nearly knocked her knees out from beneath her. But she kept it firmly under control.

  “Welcome back.”

  He seemed momentarily confused. “What happened?”

  She offered him a humorless smile. “Nothing. You’re fine.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What ... the arrow...?” It must have struck him, because his expression became fierce. “What did you do?”

  She drew herself up. “I only stayed to make sure you were all right. You recovered on your own.”

  With that, she turned and left the room. But rather than return to her own bed, to her husband’s welcoming arms, Valkyrie made her way downstairs because, during the ride back, she had come to a conclusion. Devlin was the only link she had to finding her baby and no matter how much she didn’t like it, she needed him alive. But that didn’t mean he had to be in one piece. Immortals didn’t die. They didn’t bleed out. Even if she snapped his neck, he would recover within a few hours. The only way he would ever get relief from what she was about to do to him would be through fire and she would never give him that peace, because if he thought he could wait her out, he had clearly never been at the mercy of Valkyrie Maxwell.

  “Get some rest.” She rested a hand on Devlin’s quaking shoulder. “We’re not finished.”

  Leaving him weeping in the dark, Valkyrie exited the trapdoor an hour later and crossed the maze of boxes to the kitchen. She shut the door behind her and moved to rinse his blood off her hands, her face, and as much of it as possible off her clothes. This part of the job was why she preferred leather. It made for easy cleaning.

  She was running her daggers under the water when the first person arrived. Imogen squinted at her through sleepy eyes. Her silky hair hung in tangled knots around her pinkened face.


  “You’re awake?” Imogen asked around an enormous yawn. “I don’t even know where I am.”

  “The kitchen,” Valkyrie supplied, shutting off the water and stuffing her blades back inside her boots.

  Imogen eyed her. “Did you even sleep?”

  Valkyrie grinned dryly. “Like the dead.”

  The mention of dead had Imogen’s eyes growing three times their size. “Liam!”

  She didn’t stop the girl when she whirled on her heels and bolted back the way she’d come. She busied herself making coffee and taking it into the diner. She had taken her first sip when she heard the scream. It was only the fact that it was elated and followed by joyous laughter that kept her from sprinting upstairs. Instead, she stayed by the window overlooking a sea of gravel, gleaming vehicles, and a wall of trees as the sun warmed the earth beyond it. Overhead, the sky was a flawless blue that screamed of what would be a beautiful day. She watched a crow vault off a branch, spread its wings, and swoop into the air with a resounding caw. Out of habit, her hand went to her abdomen, expecting to be met with a swollen bump and finding nothing. The absence cracked what was left of her heart and the sound resonated through her with a force that sent her staggering forward. The mug in her hand tipped, splashing scalding liquid across her boots before slipping from her numb fingers to shatter in pieces across the hardwood.

  “No...” she snarled through her teeth even as she sank to the ground beneath the window in a broken heap of sobs.

  The tightness in her chest expanded, suffocating her with so much despair that she couldn’t breathe. All she wanted was to scream and break everything in sight, but she could do nothing but cry into her hands as the emotions ate at her sanity.