“Nor shall a grievous word be spoken about us, for our marriage is sacred between us and no stranger shall hear my grievance. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next.”
I didn’t want to be bonded to him, not like this. I sought out the faces of my loved ones and silently pleaded for someone to help me. My mother swiped at her tears with a lacy handkerchief. Daddy gave me a warm grin and a reassuring nod. From Grams I got a jovial thumbs up. Even my brother and sister—my sword and my shield—smiled their approval.
Lightning flashed overhead as sky opened up and dumped torrential rains down by the bucketful. All the wedding guests shrieked and ran for cover. The only bodies left on the beach belonged to me … and my betrothed.
A third voice picked up where the previous one left off, “Ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.” Rain blurred my vision. I swiped at my face with my free hand to see if the impossible was true. She was—me. Not me exactly, but a version of. For starters regular me wouldn’t be caught dead in the frayed and revealing animal skin outfit she wore. Her skin was covered with dirt and what appeared to be soot. A long, thick braid hung down her back. Blue painted symbols and markings decorated her bare arms and lined her cheeks. I didn’t have to wonder who she was. I’d met her before, just not face-to-face. She lived in me as the Celtic warrior fate demanded I be. “I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.”
A choked sob tore from my throat. Caleb had been the dream. A distraction. From the start we could never have worked because of my tie to another. Tears streamed down my face. Their traces—as well as any hope I clung to—washed away by the rain.
The warrior’s dirt-stained fingers dug into my skin to the point of pain. She grasped my forearm and yanked me closer. Her other hand balled into a fist that she thumped against her chest and held over her heart. Outwardly her eyes projected a mirror image of my own. Yet hers held no pain—just the absolute resolution that comes with duty, honor, and responsibility. I envied her battle-hardened heart. It seemed an improvement over my own that lay crumpled in my chest, shattered beyond repair. I coveted her existence for its simplicity—an option life refused to give me. Not yet anyway. I attempted to embrace her uncomplicated existence by clasping my hand around her arm and returning her salute while the rain poured down.
I woke up alone. The bed beside me long since cold, but still smelled of him. The room that last night provided a cozy little love nest now felt as frigid and isolated as a prison cell. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and dragged myself to the window. The world outside looked too bright. Too green. Like a manic fairy tale in Tim Burton’s imagination. The curtain rattled across its rod as I pulled it shut. I returned to the bed and curled myself around the pillow where Caleb slept next to me for the first and last time. That’s when the first round of tears broke free. With wrenching sobs that shook the bed with their force my misery came pouring out.
CHAPTER Eleven
I didn’t ask where Bernard had taken me. Frankly, I didn’t care. He came to get me in Ireland with the plan of throwing me into the middle of a Titan smorgasbord. The locale he blinked us to turned out to be a desolate, wind lashed dune.
Gabe, still in human form, was clad only in a pair of faded jeans. The muscles across his chest and back flexed as he swung a long-handled double-sided axe at a fire demon. The ax severed the creature’s head from its body. Ash rained down and covered Gabe with a layer of grey over his bare skin. One down, eleven more to go. Three of fire, two Bat-bulls, four of the sparky lightning dudes, and two land sharks that were snapping their teeth and circling Kendall on their stubby little leg nubbins. Most days I would’ve found the crowd of demons around my loved ones worrisome. At that moment, I couldn’t muster that emotion—or any other.
A mace dangled from Kendall’s delicate hand as she held the tips of her extended wings in close enough to protect her. From the way she was held it—like it might contaminate her—I sincerely doubted she had swung it even once.
“Those are the other enchanted weapons?” I jerked my head at the axe and mace as I fastened the sheathed broadsword Bernard gave me around my hips.
The fat little gnome dug his cane into the sand to lean on it. “Yes. The Council forged them for you specifically to use against the Titans. They are drawn to the instruments like moths to a flame. Just like that flame to that moth, the weapons are incredibly deadly.”
“All I need to know,” I muttered and marched across the sand. I ducked, twirled, and weaved through the demons, locked on my destination.
Kendall’s head snapped around when my left hand closed over the heavy metal handle of the mace. Her platinum hair bounced as she peered from my hand to my face and back again. Relief registered a split second before her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Celeste! Wow, nice ring! Where’d you get it?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Wordlessly I readjusted my grip on the weapon.
Comprehension widened her eyes. Her mouth formed a perfect O. “Oh. Oh no. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nope. Gabe, get her out of here!” I shoved past Kendall and walloped a land shark in the head with the spikes of the mace. Bone crunched. Its teeth snapped one more time before it flopped to the ground and darkened the sand by turning to black ooze.
Gabe said nothing, just gave me a sympathetic lift of his chin before handing over the axe. He grabbed Keni’s upper arm, found an opening, and maneuvered them both out of the circle of demons.
I weighed both weapons in my hands to get the feel of them.
“Wa … wait!” Keni protested and tried to plant her feet in the sand. “We have to help her!”
The Titans encircled me with a wall of electrically charged, earth trembling, teeth gnashing, heat. I kept my gaze cast down but turned my head to one side and then the other to crack my neck.
Keni shook free of Gabe’s grasp and reeled toward me. “We can’t leave her alone!”
Gabe caught her around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Yes, we can. She’s got this. Call it butt-kicking therapy.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself. I brought my head up as the first demon—the other land shark looking for a little payback—attacked. I whipped the mace over my head and brought it down into the shark’s belly. With a huff it toppled over. Going with the momentum, I spun on a rapidly approaching grey-skinned Sparky dude. This time I opted for the axe and severed his legs at the knee. His black lips curled back from rotted teeth as he screamed and fell to the ground. Sparks shot from his fingers while he writhed in the sand. Before I could finish him off, a lasso of fire circled the wrist of my axe wielding hand and yanked it back. My skin scorched, but I didn’t loosen my grip. Instead I swung the mace with every ounce of strength I had. His flaming skull splintered and he crumbled into ash. The rancid breath of the charging Bat-bulls stung my nostrils. I responded by twisting into a low kick. One got his legs knocked out from under him while his friend took an axe to the gut. For good measure, I went ahead and relieved the downed Bat-bull of his head.
Ash blew through the air as I rose to my feet among the carnage. Four remained. Three lightning, and one rather nervous looking fire demon.
“You seem hesitant.” Ash scorched my throat and turned my voice into a deep growl even I didn’t recognize. “Maybe you’d like it if we evened the odds a little bit?”
I flung the axe behind me without even a backward glance. It embedded between the eyes of the injured lightning demon with a sickening thunk.
Kendall grimaced. “Well, that was gross and unnecessary.”
The desire for my blood reached a feverish level for the three remaining lightning demons. Anger sparked from them in a visible charge. The fire demon, however, inched away. His empty eye sockets were fixated on the broad sword on my hip.
I reached across my body and pulled the b
lade out just enough to expose the shine of its metal. “Is this what’s bothering you? Think I need to lose this one, too?”
His flaming bone skull tilted to the side. Daring me. Taunting me. Then he slowly nodded.
“Fair enough.” The sword hissed out of the leather holster and winged through the air. A fresh round of ash exploded as the deadly steel sliced the fire demon’s skull in two.
“Nice!” Gabe marveled.
“That wasn’t nice!” Keni squealed and shielded her eyes. “That was, like, the exact opposite of nice!”
Blue electricity snapped around me. The last three demons moved in wearing identical sneers. The Dark Army must teach a class to achieve such precision—Sneering 101. I took a deep breath and embraced all the pain and agony festering inside me. I owned it. Let it rule me. Then swung. A scream tore from my chest as I lashed the mace through all three of them with one superhuman strike. The mace entered the rib cage of the first, and exited the shoulder blade of the last.
Ash danced in the wind. The demons’ lifeless bodies slumped to the ground and dissolved into goo. My chest rose and fell as I surveyed the remnants of my slaughter. I knew it was twisted, but I was sad it was over. The momentary reprieve I had hoped this would provide never came.
The mace slid from my fingers and thumped into the sand. “ … And then there were none.”
CHAPTER Twelve
I had a key to this particular door, but raised my hand to knock anyway. Before my fist made contact with the sage green door it flew open. A disheveled Rowan leaned against the frame. His golden hair was a ruffled mess, his black shirt completely unbuttoned. The dirty jeans he wore hung low enough to reveal the rise of his hipbones.
“Well, if it isn’t the Black Widow,” he slurred. “A lad falls for you and then disappears into oblivion.” He tipped up a long-necked beer bottle and poured the amber liquid into his mouth then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Guess I should thank you for choosing him over me, aye?”
“I take it you heard.”
His hair fell across his forehead in a way that gave him an air of approachability—like a little boy. Of course his personality counteracted that right quick.
“Heard? No.” He leaned forward as if to whisper a secret but failed to lower his voice. “We demons can sometimes sense each other. And yesterday I was just sitting around, minding me own business,” beer sloshed out of the bottle as he gestured with it, “entertaining myself with a very lovely and flexible gymnast, when—poof! I actually felt Cal vanish. One second his presence is there, the next gone without a trace.” He pointed at me with the top of his beer bottle. “I’m guessing you had everything to do with that.”
“You know exactly what I did and why.” I crinkled my nose. “Are you aware you smell like a brewery?”
Rowan pushed off the doorframe and stumbled back into the apartment. I assumed the fact that he left the door wide open acted as my invitation to enter.
“There’s a very good reason for that. You see, in between plotting your doom and mourning the loss of me mate, I’ve been reacquainting myself with the wonders of ale. It’s a wonderful beverage. I really don’t know why the Countess prohibits it.”
I stepped inside and froze. Caleb’s black motorcycle jacket with the silver stripes down the sleeves hung on a hook in the hall. My breath caught. If Rowan wasn’t there I probably would’ve ripped that thing off the wall, thrown it on the ground, and rolled around on it like a dog just because it smelled like Caleb.
I blinked hard to regain focus. “You’ve been plotting my doom?”
Rowan pushed an empty pizza box aside to allow himself room to collapse on the ugly plaid couch. “Aye. Since you took away the closest thing I’ve had to family in centuries, I’ve thought of little else than how to properly pay ya back. But as I’m currently seein’ three of you, it may not be the best time to act on such impulses. I’d hate to kill the wrong one and anger the other two.”
I cleared off a spot amongst the beer bottles and food wrappers to sit down on the dark oak coffee table. With my elbows resting on my knees I leaned toward Rowan. “And what if I were to tell you I came here to ask for your help?”
The pretty-boy pirate nearly choked on his beer. He sat up a second before it came out of his nose. “I’d say my days of helping you passed about forty-eight hours ago. Unless you have a nagging death wish I can help with. As soon as I sleep this off I would gladly help with that.”
“No. Actually I have an idea that would make both of us feel better.”
Rowan ran his fingers through his hair and attempted a leer that probably would’ve been sexy about seven beers ago. “Oh … I see what this is.”
“I really don’t think you do.”
He leaned way too far into my personal space to reach around me—so close that his hair tickled my cheek. I flinched and backed away, mostly from the beer stench. When he pulled back he had a remote in his hand and used it to click the stereo to life. Maroon 5 flooded the room proudly proclaiming their Jagger-like moves.
Rowan bit his lower lip and bobbed to the music. “Boyfriend’s barely gone two days and already you need a rebound tumble? Much as I hate you, I might be just drunk enough for that.”
I snatched the remote from him and rounded the table in a flash to snap the radio off. Distance between Mr. Rebound and me suddenly seemed crucial. “Whoa! There will be no tumbling!”
“Your loss,” he muttered with a noncommittal shrug.
I inhaled a cleansing breath and tried another approach with the obtuse pirate—the blatant, ugly truth. “Okay, here’s the thing. I can’t breathe. Can’t … think. With Caleb gone I’m … broken.” I stared down at my hands and fiddled with my ring. The hole through my center caused by the loss of him began to gush, spewing its painful nastiness everywhere. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “I know you miss him, Rowan. He was your brother and I took him from you. For that I am so, so sorry. You have to believe me when I say I was trying to protect him. As much as it hurts, I can live knowing he’s out there somewhere, safe. But if he stayed and got killed because of me, because of what I am, I couldn’t live with that. If you need to hate me, I can accept that. Hell, I hate me right now. But I’m asking you to put that aside and help me. Please. I have a job to do, a pretty friggin’ important one. But I can’t function to do it when all I can think about is how much I miss him.”
My chin quivered, but I clenched my jaw and refused to let myself cry in front of him. “It’s literally killing me. I’m asking you to please take it away. Just for a little while. Use your ability to give me a few moments peace. Please?”
My plea seemed to clear away a bit of his fog. Clarity sharpened those turquoise eyes. He rose from the couch and walked to me. His arms hung to his sides in a pointed message that he had no intention of giving me what I yearned for. “And why would I help you? Give me one reason not to let you stew in your own misery. Because from where I’m standing, poppet, you deserve to.”
I squared my shoulders and met his gaze directly. “Because I’m the only one that can give it back to you.”
His forehead creased in confusion. “What?”
“Do you remember on Liberty Island? The urgency to get to Caleb? I gave you that. I’m empathic.”
Rowan’s head tipped back. He gazed at me down the bridge of his nose. A blend of hope and doubt swirled in his eyes.
“I know you’re hurting. But you can’t use your mind control on yourself to dull the pain.” I jabbed my thumb at the bottles strewn everywhere. “Hence the drinking binge. But if you help me—offer me a little relief—I can give it back to you. We can both get a temporary reprieve from our emotion.”
Rowan stood silent, a maneuver I didn’t know him to be capable of. His face went slack from any and all emotion. No one can manage a poker face like a drunken pirate. The wait lingered on long enough that I began to anticipate him telling me where I could shove my empathic ability while he cracked another beer.
Part Two
C HAPTER Thirteen
Six months later
I unsheathed my dragon’s tooth dagger in mid-stride and twirled the blade around my fingers once before letting the mother of pearl grip settle into my grasp.
“Great job on that Kepac demon, Celeste, but there are two more up ahead,” Bernard’s voice chimed in my head, a fun little spell he used to make my fights more efficient.
Between a Gryphon who read my mind at will and a gnome that chattered away in my brain my head felt like a very crowded place as of late.
“Gabe has one pinned. Kendall is doing her best to keep the other at bay. They’re right on the border of town, so keep this fight tight and quiet.”
“No sweat, Bernie.” I pumped my arms and zigzagged through the trees. He wasn’t kidding about being close to town. Through the break in the trees I could see the parking lot lights of Big Al’s Grocery Store.
I swiped at a wall of foliage with my readied blade and broke into the scene of the battle. A barrel roll over Gabe-lion’s back got me into position to shove Kendall aside and sink the dagger into the belly of the Kepac.
“Thanks, Cee,” she murmured and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “I couldn’t have kept him off Gabe much longer.”
“No worries.” I shrugged and tucked the dagger into the back waistband of my cut-off sweats. The balmy Tennessee summer required a “less is more” philosophy for fighting attire.
I nudged Gabe’s tawny hide with my knee. Topaz feline eyes flicked my way and a challenging snarl rumbled through his teeth.
“Easy, kitty. You know the drill.”
Sacrifice (The Gryphon Series Book 3) Page 7
