“Murderer!” Roslyn shouted above the din.
Several witches leaped ahead. Fiona produced a dagger from the folds of her gown. Her aura burned red with anger. Faced with the wrath of the Mother Witch, they shrank back into the line.
“Enough! I warn you, stay back.” Power emanated from her. Once again I was reminded of why she was so feared. She made a visual effort to soften her words. “That is a very serious accusation, Roslyn. Present your evidence.”
“I found her… Gayle.” Roslyn gulped as a tear fell down her cheek. “The Rite had just finished. The patrons were returning. I noticed the lights to her room were still on, but she did not come to welcome them home. I went to check on her, and…”
She broke off, her face pale. An image solidified in her mind and thrust itself on me. I inhaled a shaky breath.
“Blood. There was so much blood. And Gayle… her head…”
“She was decapitated,” I finished for her.
“The words ‘Death to Traitors’ were written in blood on her desk.” Again, Roslyn’s accusing glare pointed to me. “And she was the last one to visit her.”
And how could I argue the logic? The truth rang from her mind and memory. Even I understood why she would assume me guilty. Finally, I gathered the nerve to speak.
“When I saw her last, all of those things you are wearing were on her desk. Is there a reason you have on her jewels? Did you steal them?”
Roslyn scowled. “How dare you. She was already deceased. I have witnesses. I wear these in honor of the fallen leader. Coven leadership always wear their best to a trial.”
I smiled despite the threat in her words. “Is that what this is?”
“It is not.” Fiona turned to me. “Ava, do you swear your innocence—that you didn’t touch Gayle?”
I lifted my head. “I can’t swear to that.”
“Ava!”
“It’s the truth. She told me she had betrayed my mother. She’s been mixed up with more than you think. I wanted to kill her, but I didn’t. I walked away.”
Roslyn’s chest rose and fell in angry breaths “You expect me to believe that you found out who had betrayed your mother and you did nothing?”
“That’s exactly what you should believe.” I pressed out with my powers, replaying the interview with Gayle into her mind. Before I could finish, she fell back with a great inhale of air.
“You entered my thoughts without permission… and with ease! That is a powerful evil. A violation of the most serious nature. It is against free will and my rights as a human being to enter thoughts without permission.”
“I was giving you my proof.”
“You are unnatural. The curse of your father is on your head.” Roslyn’s hand flew over the turquoise pendant lying just below her collar bone. “Someone in our family has been murdered. Coven law states that if the majority votes the accused witch is guilty, they are condemned to death.”
“She’s not a witch and does not abide by your law!” Fiona clenched her hand in a white-knuckled fist.
“This has gone far enough.” Jonathan’s voice came from somewhere above me.
I whirled around. He stood on top of the gate, precariously perched on a stone pier. Alarm spiked my heartrate as I tried to warn him with a glare, but he wasn’t paying attention to me.
Then my anxiety doubled. Violet prowled the line of the stone wall, heading toward him, her eyes pinning me with an obsessive stare.
A moan escaped my lips. I ran a hand down my face. They weren’t helping the accusations that I conspired with demons. Rigid, I watched with bated breath for the reaction I knew was coming.
Murmurs and gasps flew through the crowd of women. Countless emotions thickened the already tense atmosphere. Some of the witches, the older more experienced ones, recognized exactly what Jonathan and Violet were, but the others… they were too young to properly label the deadly energy pouring from them.
“What is he doing here?” someone called out. Voices erupted.
25
The White Witch
Roslyn put up a hand to stop their cries. Even through the darkness, her expression turned pale.
I smirked despite the heavy situation. Shock at my demons’ appearances temporarily rattled her carefully set wall of mental defenses. Neither Gayle nor Roslyn had disclosed that the Rite’s “hunted” was a demon.
The young witches who had participated in the event had been left ignorant of what they had allowed to seduce them.
Thankfully he had washed the paint from his skin and changed clothes, but the nicer clothes didn’t mask the wild predator that stared from black eyes. I had almost forgotten just how good he was at masking his true nature. He was handsome, intelligent and charming. It was almost easy to overlook the red flags when he was on his best behavior—which he was not.
He smiled down like an animal at the group of women.
“Jonathan.” Fiona’s expression cleared. Her eyes narrowed at my demon. “This might not be the best time for your antics.”
“On the contrary, my Healer, this is the best time.” The corners of his lips twitched with amusement as he peered over the gawking crowd. “I haven’t had the privilege of attending a stoning in years. I didn’t think I would ever see one again. Unfortunately, Ava Matthias is not a murderer. I am.”
Again, a roll of gasps and protests doused the air.
I closed my eyes, my breath rushing from my lungs. And in that instant I knew he spoke the truth. Jonathan had killed Gayle for me. In retaliation for my pain, and for my protection.
“I knew the Defender would be unable to do what needed to be done,” he said, “so I took care of her. A mortal like that shouldn’t be allowed to live or lead—”
“It isn’t for you to decide,” I said, interrupting. “You shouldn’t have interfered.”
He observed me from his perch, his expression guarded. “You’re wrong. This is war, Ava. If what you believe is true and this is a battle between good and evil, you cannot allow someone to stand without punishment who would throw an innocent woman, God’s chosen immortal and your mother, to the enemy.”
“I don’t prefer to kill,” Violet said, “but I would have done the same.”
“I’m sure you would have.” Roslyn turned another circle, throwing her bejeweled hands into the air. “These things are the Defender’s demons. Her personal demons. If this creature truly did as he says and killed our great leader, then he did it under her command! The Defender is a treacherous villain.” She turned back to face Fiona, glaring at the Mother Witch. “And if you refuse to do something about her, then we will.”
“Then you will face death,” Fiona said.
I placed a calming hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. Desperate, I stepped forward. “This does not need to be like this. Let’s talk in private before things get out of control.”
Roslyn smirked. “We’re not worried. As strong as you are, I doubt you could face all of us.”
Fiona whipped around, displaying two knives at the ready. “I have felled hundreds of witches to stop a power-hungry disease of corruption. I will do it again.” Her rage was palpable. This was more than just about a dead leader. The witches were Fiona’s responsibility, a cross to bear that ate at her soul more than she let on. Without knowing it, this coven danced on the very edge of extinction.
A combination of righteous indignation and fear swelled. While most were ready to battle, to see what they could do against the first White Witch, there were some that quailed, taking a step back. A handful of ten gathered together, physically separating themselves from the more zealous leaders, but it wasn’t enough to dent the strength of their numbers.
Another noise added to the throng, but I couldn’t turn from the threat before me to find its source.
“You forget that you’d be fighting two immortals—” Jonathan dropped from the gate, landing in a low crouch. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath his weight. “And a Fallen.”
Vio
let followed, taking a stance at my side. A wicked glint flashed in her eyes, and she gave the line of witches a feral smile. “Two Fallen.”
Trepidation seeped from Fiona, but she didn’t reject the demons’ offerings.
A beam of light came from behind, blinding the group in front of us, casting our shadows on the horde of witches. A horn blasted. An engine revved.
Heavy footsteps thundered behind me, then, “This trial is over,” Darius said in a voice that boomed above the rest. Relief temporarily soothed my tattered nerves, but it was only for the moment.
Several things happened at once. There was a whoosh as fire leaped from one of the torches to the ground. A scream rang, then a wall of flame shot to the sky, separating immortals from witches. Only Roslyn and two others stood on our side of the inferno. Fiona’s eyes blazed white-hot, her hair whipped violently into the air. Hands roughly grabbed me up and threw me over a strong shoulder. My breathed collapsed from my lungs. Pain shot through my solar plexus
Seconds later, I was unceremoniously but gently thrown into the truck cab, Darius right behind me. A sharp reproof bubbled to my lips, then disappeared without a sound. His dark mood pulled at me. Muscle bulged even beneath a thick jacket, his hard profile striking against a moonlit sky. I rubbed at my neck, soothing the guilt that crept up my spine.
Despite my initial outrage, I couldn’t fight his manhandling. He was my Guardian. The innate need to protect me overwhelmed every other sense. I was his world, the center all else revolved around.
I twisted in my seat. The wall of fire still raged, aiding our escape. Cedric now stood as a sentinel between his mate and the witches that dared go against their ultimate leader. Alone, they were no longer as threatening. Violet prowled a circle around them. Jonathan had already disappeared. He wouldn’t return to the compound, not if he had just killed Gayle. All I could do was hope he would be safe.
Roslyn’s cry of outrage thundered over the roar of the fire and the truck’s engine. “The Three should be held accountable for their actions like everyone else! I demand justice be done.”
Fiona’s expression warned. “If you want your grievances heard, you may bring them to the council meeting tonight. You can come alone, but I suggest you appoint two others to join you.”
“Congratulations,” Cedric said, giving his mate a gentle nudge toward the truck, but his eyes never left the witches. “You are the new leader. Let’s see how long you last.”
Head held high, Roslyn and the two other witches watched as they stepped away. Fiona climbed in the bed of the truck with Violet. After a moment’s hesitation Cedric joined us in the front.
The truck sped, tires kicking dirt.
“Fiona?” I asked.
“She needs a moment to cope,” Cedric said. His worried gaze swept over my face.
Anxiety tightened my throat. “The coven. Are they—”
“There was not a single witch harmed.” A harsh edge that I had never heard from him lined his tone. “But I know Fiona. I can’t guarantee that will be the case before the night is over.”
“How did you know?” I asked, turning to Darius.
Muscle tensed in his jaw. “Coms. Fiona called me when she couldn’t find you. We got here as soon as we could.” Mixed emotions vibrated from him. I placed a hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I—”
He harrumphed a response, but it was Cedric that responded first. “Oh, come off it, man. Ava, don’t let it get to you. It’s the curse of the Guardian. He’ll calm down soon enough, once you’re safe. Like Fiona, it’ll take him a little time. It’s not just you he’s upset about.”
I looked between both men. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a… a situation back at home,” Cedric said. His eyes flashed to Darius, who didn’t respond.
My brows pinched together. “What do you mean? What happened at home?”
“There was a sighting. A demon at the veil.”
“You mean—”
“A demon came to the veil.” Cedric rubbed the sandy-colored stubble growing along his jawline. “Saw the veil. Saw us through it.”
“It was Peter.” Darius’s voice had an edge to it.
“And if he can see the sanctuary, that means others can too,” Cedric said.
I wanted so badly to look into my Guardian’s thoughts, but trepidation pulled at me. Roslyn had called my power evil. A violation of the most serious nature. I swallowed against the lump lodged in my throat. Soon we steered through the silky shroud that separated our world from the mortal realm.
It coated my skin with its extra layer of protection, as it always did, but if it truly continued to do its job then how had a demon seen through its power?
Before we could even pull into the drive at the compound, Darius’s mother was outside waiting. A shawl was pulled tight over her arms; she grasped it to her chest. Hector and Zane stood just behind her, sliding nervous looks to each other.
Beside me, Darius heaved a heavy sigh, then threw the truck into park.
“It was Peter,” Emily said the moment the door was open.
Cedric moved passed us to the back of the truck to help his mate and Violet down. They waited for us near the entrance of the compound.
“You should be in bed.” Darius clasped his mother by the shoulder. He stood at least a whole head taller than her slight frame. He peered past her to the two men behind. “Zane, take the truck back to the garage. Hector, please escort my mother to her room.”
“He will do no such thing.”
Hector froze to the spot, choosing to obey a mother rather than his leader.
Darius growled. “Mother—”
“Don’t coddle me.” Emily swatted away his touch. Something akin to pain crossed her features. She grabbed his hand. “Why should I stay in bed when my own son is out fighting demons? Besides, it’s morning already. Look—"
She pointed to the horizon where an almost imperceptible haze grew from the horizon. It seemed to grow under our notice. Field attendants dotted the farmlands, already starting their morning routines. Madelyn and Gerald would have fed the early risers and others would be waking soon for their breakfasts. My stomach rumbled to the thought of homecooked food instead of the scraps we found in the witches’ kitchen.
Emily’s voice lowered to a whisper, drawing my attention. “I had a vision. The demon at your border was Peter.”
“I know,” he said. “But not because of your vision.”
“Then you know why he’s here.”
Darius’s face hardened. “Yes. He’s a spy.”
“Oh, don’t be so daft.” Frustration poured from Emily’s soul. Countless images flowed through her mind in defense of her demonic husband. I tried to shut my connection to her, but she had no mental filter. Her every feeling oozed from her like a wound. Darius raised a brow at his mother, but she paid it no heed. “Peter’s not a spy. He won’t lead anyone else here. That’s not something—”
“That’s not what, Mother? Something he would do? But he would. He’s a demon. He must obey.”
“We know that’s not true anymore,” I said, running to her rescue.
“Do we?” Darius snapped.
The intensity of his voice rooted me to my place. I met the intensity of his gaze, but before I could defend my demons, or his mother, he turned away. His harshness chafed, but there was nothing I could do… unless I could find a nearby rock to hit him with…
Hector cleared his throat. Zane shuffled from one foot to the other, looking off into the distance.
Emily placed a hand on my arm, a sign of her support. “Peter came for me, don’t you see that, son? Just let me go to him. I’ll take him away. You can relocate your home. Everything will be fine.”
I grimaced, not realizing the direction of her conversation beforehand. I definitely didn’t agree to her course of action, but I couldn’t pull away now.
“No,” he said.
“He’s not as bad as you
think. He brought me here when he thought I would be a target, didn’t he?”
“Listen to yourself. ‘He isn’t as bad as you think’? Mother, you can’t be as bad as—”
“As what?” she asked, cutting him off.
He took a deep breath, his face red. “As some pathetic woman that falls in love with her captor. That’s almost as bad as a woman staying with an abusive man, or a damn cheating spouse. Peter’s purposes were self-serving.”
Emily’s mouth opened and shut. Hurt-infused tears gathered in her eyes.
“That’s enough,” I said.
Even Hector seemed affected. His deep voice echoed inside my ears. “Not right, man.”
I took Darius’s hands in mine. “This is not the place for this conversation.” I let my own anxiety, even fear, swell until it shattered his defenses and his stone-faced expression melted. It was manipulative, and I knew it, but this was not a Darius I was used to dealing with.
He looked around him, witnessing the others that had gathered to listen to the conversation. Once spied, they briskly continued their early morning routine. His shoulders dropped.
Cedric took the truck keys from Darius’s grip and handed them to Zane. “The council has been announced and will be later this afternoon, after dinner.”
“We’ll meet you in fifteen minutes, Darius,” Fiona said. She threaded her arm around Emily’s shoulder. “Come. Let me take you back to your room. We’ll all decide together what’s best to do. You’ll be safe.”
“I’m not worried about my safety,” she said, allowing Fiona to take her away.
Fiona’s gaze met Darius’s. “We know.”
Hector held the double doors open for the pair of women.
Once they disappeared, I fixed Darius with a pointed glare. “Was that really necessary?” But he didn’t answer. His honey-colored eyes searched mine, his gaze intent. I huffed a heavy breath, looking away. “And why are we having the council later tonight? Why not now?” We couldn’t afford to hesitate. Doing so felt like torture.
Personal Warriors: Book 3 in the Personal Demons series Page 26
