Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) (7 page)

“Thank you!” the girl sobbed before dashing off.

No one was stupid enough to stop her.

The dark man was forced into the cage in her place and the door was sealed behind him. She reached into the folds of her skirt and removed a small pouch. From within, she drew out a pinch of sand that glittered in the moonlight. She said something in a tongue Gideon didn’t recognize and blew it into the man’s face. The moment it struck him, he began to scream, long, agonizing wails that tore through the clearing as though he were being mauled by a bear. He clutched at his face, cutting deep gashes that oozed blood. Gideon almost pitied him. Almost.

The girl turned to the group.

“Go home to your families,” she ordered in a clear, crisp voice. “Anyone I see out tonight, will join him.”

No one stayed to argue. The hurried rush of footsteps pounded through the forest as all present dashed back to the safety of their homes.

Gideon remained. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not without her.

Studying the dark man as he continued to shriek and rip strips of flesh from his face a moment longer, she picked up her skirt and started into the woods in the opposite direction of the village.

“Hey!” Gideon hurried after her. “Wait. Who are you?”

She stopped and faced him. “You should go home,” she told him.

“Not until you tell me who you are.”

Shadows danced over her features, but her eyes continued to shimmer as though illuminated by a glow from within.

“Valkyrie.”

M
agnus and Reggie weren’t back when Gideon and his father returned to the manor. His mother, Riley, and Imogen sat in the main room when they walked in. Octavian was at the bar, systematically arranging bottles behind the counter for that evening’s crowd.

His mother’s head came up when the door shut behind them. Her face broke into a brilliant smile that was returned by his father as he crossed to her and pressed a kiss to her waiting mouth.

Gideon moved to the bar. He needed a damn drink.

“How was the meeting?” she asked his father when he pulled away.

“Uneventful and a waste of my time,” he answered.

“Didn’t Arild have anything useful to say?” she asked as he pulled a chair over and dropped into it.

Gideon poured himself a very tall glass of whiskey and went to dump himself into a stool at the bar.

“Solitudinem fecerunt, pacem appelunt,”
Gideon mumbled absently to himself as he watched the gentle sway of light along the rim of his glass.

Or maybe
Cicero
had said it better:
silent enim leges inter arma
. In times of war, the law really did fall silent. Everyone wanted something and it was never peace. Arild Devereaux was no exception. Getting them brought to the manor, demanding an audience, and for what? It was all about control, to prove that he was lord and master of all. That when he summoned, all bowed to his command. It was all just another game.

“Tacitus?”
Octavian eyed him with an arched brow. “
Solitudinem fecerunt, pacem appelunt—
they made a desert and called it peace.”

Gideon smirked as the cool glass touched his lips. “They were both such wise men.”

Octavian frowned. “Both?”

Gideon opened his mouth to recite
Cicero
out loud, but his father was speaking.

“Nothing,” he was saying with a mild hint of exasperation in his voice. “Of course he made it sound like everything he was saying was important, but he knows about as much as we do. The harpies were attacked last night, probably about the same time as...” He shot Imogen an apologetic smiled. “He believes it’s a group of demons.”

His mother sighed. “This is just horrible.”

His father nodded. “We did agree to double our patrols. We’re going to call a meeting with the other leaders, see if we can’t organize a hunting party. I must contact the humans and make them aware of the situation in case those involved expand their spree to them.” He rubbed at his face in frustration and swept his hand back through his hair. “Arild thinks the attacks are personal, a possible vendetta against the families, or a single member of said family—”

“No one in my family has ever associated with demons,” Imogen interrupted. “My father believed very strongly that we needed to keep to ourselves. It wasn’t safe.”

“What wasn’t safe, Imogen?” his mother asked.

Imogen took a deep breath. “We predict death,” she explained. “When the war began, my kind refused to take sides and a lot of us were slaughtered because of it. But we knew why we were wanted so badly and we couldn’t let ourselves be used like that.”

“Why?” Riley asked. “I mean about being wanted so badly.”

“Banshees have the ability to foretell the outcome of a battle,” Octavian said from across the room. “With them on your side, you will know if your side will win, or if you should escape to fight another day. It’s an unfair advantage, but it was drastic times.”

Imogen nodded. “We’ve been hiding ever since. My father would never put us in danger by going to a demon for anything.”

“What about your mother? Or sisters?” Gideon prompted.

“Never,” Imogen said at once. “My mother was terrified that we would get found. My sisters were all too young to even know how to summon a demon, never mind actually strike a bargain with one.”

“What about the harpies?” Riley asked, looking from one face to the next. “Did they take sides during the war?”

His mom and dad exchanged glances, both deliberating the question.

“The harpies joined the demons, I believe,” his mother mused quietly, but she seemed unsure. “It was so long ago.”

“I believe you’re right,” his father agreed.

“Had they joined the angels in the war, would they have been Casters as well?” Riley asked.

“I think it was
Pindaros
who said,
dulce bellum inexpertis
—war is sweet for those who haven’t experienced it,” Gideon recited smoothly, taking a swig of his drink.

“Not everyone who joined the angels became Casters,” his father said, ignoring Gideon. “Most were assigned other tasks. Others were sent back to their homes until the next war.”

Riley seemed to think about this. Gideon could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes.

“Could it be the angels doing this?” she said at last.

His mother blinked. “The angels? Why would they want to kill anyone? The war is over.”

Riley shrugged. “Maybe they’re bored, or maybe they want to be prepared. I don’t know.”

It was his father who shook his head and answered, “No, I don’t believe it’s the angels. Demons I would believe.”

“What about another veil creature?” Octavian added. “Perhaps someone with a grudge.”

His father rose to his feet with an audible sigh. “It could be anyone,” he said. “We won’t know until we do some more digging, and hopefully stop any further attacks before they happen.” He rounded his eyes on Gideon when Gideon lifted his whiskey to his lips. “I saw Valkyrie before we left. She seemed upset.”

Refusing to meet the ten pairs of eyes scrutinizing his every movement, Gideon took another sip, licked his lips before speaking.

“
Quod scripsi scripsi
—what I have written, I have written,” he recounted to his glass.

“Oh stop with the quotes, Gideon,” his mother scolded. “What does that even mean?”

Gideon narrowed his eyes. “You’d have to ask
John 19:22
. He said it first.”

His mother seemed highly unimpressed with his cleverness. “Well, I hope you will apologize for whatever you said to that girl.”

Gideon blinked. He turned his gaze to his mother and blinked again. “What makes you think I had anything to do with her sour mood? It could be that time of the month for all we know.”

It was aggravating and amusing that no one looked like they believed him.

“She’s one of us, Gideon.” His father’s calm response had Gideon’s head coming around in surprise. How could his father possibly know that? Then he was speaking again. “There aren’t many of us left. It wouldn’t do to start isolating others, especially now.”

Of course. It had nothing to do with the fact that Valkyrie was Gideon’s mate. They were talking about the attacks and banding together. He should have felt relief.

“What can I say,” he hoisted his feet up on the table and leaned his chair back on two legs. “Women either want to spank me, or strip me naked. Sometimes at the same time.” He grinned wickedly at Imogen, who flushed and quickly looked away.

“Where did you get that ego of yours?” his mother huffed.

“
Walmart
,” Gideon answered at once. “They had a two for one.”

Riley laughed, but she was the only one, and the only one he winked slyly at. That was what he loved about her, no matter how bad his jokes were, she always laughed.

“Has there been any word from Magnus and Reggie?” his father interrupted before his mother could plow on with whatever speech she had rolling around in her head.

Deterred, his mother shook her head. “I don’t expect to see them until this evening.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “I hate when he goes there.”

Moving around the table, his father rested his hand slightly on her shoulders. “As do I, but he’s the only one they’ll talk to.”

“That’s because he’s scary as all shit,” Gideon said simply. “I wonder if he got that from the same sale I got my ego from...”

He grinned at his mother’s scowl.

“I suppose there’s nothing for us to do now but—”

The door to the diner flew open with a resounding bang that rattled the windows and sent a squeal out of Imogen. But that was nothing compared to the three hulking figures that barged into the room, swords glinting in the dull light.

“Fabulous!” Gideon set aside his drink and rose to his feet. “Company.”

“Riley, take Imogen—” There was no time for Octavian to finish.

The three by the door lunged.

Gideon had no idea what they were, but they were fast. He barely had time to grab the chair he’d been sitting on and use it as a shield when the sword came whooshing down for his head. The blade struck the wood and stuck.

Using the momentum, Gideon jerked, wrenching the weapon from the creature’s grasp. Going through the motion, he twisted his body and landed a solid kick to the thing’s chest. The force sent it staggering back just far enough to give Gideon a second to detach the sword from the chair and slam the hilt between the creature’s eyes.

Disorientated, the creature wasn’t fast enough to see Gideon swoop down and kick its legs out from under him. He struck the ground with a force that shook the floorboards. Gideon straddled him, sword raised high and aimed for its chest.

“Gideon!”

Riley’s scream of panic had him faltering, had him spinning around just in time to see another creature right up against his back, dagger poised to strike. His heart took a split second to slam into his chest, but that was all.

His calves were grabbed by the creature at his feet and he was sent sprawling to the ground. The sword went spinning out of his grasp. The wind left his lungs. But he couldn’t let that stop him as he flipped onto his back, just in time to kick the creature holding his leg in the face. It was also just in time to watch as Riley took a running leap and latched herself onto the back of the one standing over him.

“Riley!” His terror washed through him even as he struggled to get to his feet, to get to her before she was killed.

Across the room, Octavian took a blow to the back when he whipped around. He went down on his knees. But their father was there, tackling the creature back before it could sink the blade he was wielding into Octavian’s back.

Breathing hard, Gideon rolled away from the creature on the ground and lunged to his feet. The creature did the same, blocking him from getting to Riley.

He blocked the first fist flying for his head. The second one caught him in the ribs. He went down on one knee, clutching at the crippling pain spiking through his entire body. No amount of struggling to breath brought enough air to ward off the black splotches invading his vision. Even when every muscle screamed for him to get up, to get to Riley. He couldn’t move.

Shaking, he crumpled backward so all he could see was the rafters overhead and the creature’s leering face as he moved to stand over Gideon.

I’m going to die.

His vision swam. He tried to fight it back, tried to remain conscious, tried to find feeling in his limbs. But everything was hazy, and yet bright. It hurt.

Then there was a scream, high and deafening, harsh and cruel. It spiked through the cavity of his brain, jarring pain down the column of his spine. The figure above him lurched back, hands clamped over his enormous ears.

Imogen.
Was she screaming for him? Was he about to die?

Gideon tried to roll over when a spike of light shot through the air, impaling the creature dead center. Blood spewed from the wound, bathing Gideon where he lay. The thing slumped out of sight. Then there was a face over him. An angel. Beautiful blue eyes peered down into his face, wide with panic. Red lips moved, forming words he couldn’t hear. Soft hands reached for him, grappling at his clothes, tearing the fabric away to get to flesh.

“No...” His words slurred. “Don’t touch me.”

Those breathtaking eyes blinked, shock and hurt reflecting in their clear surface for only a split second before they were filled with anger. Then she was gone.

No! Don’t go...

Another face replaced hers, this one covered in blood. Yet despite that, he recognized her immediately. Riley.

“It’s okay,” she was telling him, her voice urgent and full of tears. “Just hold on.” She dragged his head into her lap. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Hang on. Just...”

The rest of her words faded to a dull silence and Valkyrie’s tight features shimmered into view.

“Kyrie...” His name for her decades ago was the last thing he recalled saying before the world closed to black.