Protector of the Flame (2 page)

Primary
Ingenium
Class:
Warrior

Creed:
All who obstruct our chosen path shall know our fury

Sigil:
A fiery sun with a double-sided axe in the center

Key Members

Lord Archimedes Custos—grand uncle of Serenity, brother of Arcturus

Lord Archippos Custos—grand uncle of Serenity, brother of Arcturus

Lord Archelaus Custos—grand uncle of Serenity, brother of Arcturus

Darius—
vadeletor
, aspires to be battle-guard; Blessed

Evane—battle-guard, being groomed to lead as Chief General; Blessed

PALADINS
: suspected wing of House Sekhem, with substantial autonomy, comprised of elite Kindred; identity of most members is unknown. Primary
Ingenium
, Creed, and Sigil are unknown.

Key Members

Lord Arcturus Custos—descended from one of the most powerful bloodlines; current leader of the Paladins, member of House Sekhem’s Triumvirate; maternal grandfather of Serenity

Kasmira—
kabashem
of Abbadon

HOUSE ATEN

The Immortals practice heka and carry significant influence amongst all Kindred, except with the Great Historian, Lady Neith. They are very selective in the bloodlines accepted in their House. Espousing harmony and peace, they seek diplomacy in the resolution of all disputes. Their House is shrouded in mystery.

Primary
Ingenium
Class:
Psi

Creed:
Long may the flame burn bright and true

Sigil:
A mark of one of the Fallen, Aten, with a cobra in the center

Key Members

The Immortals: Nefertiti (has not spoken since the Great Divide), Seshata, and Tholitis—founded House Aten and preside as permanent Council members

Lady Aurora Tyet—gifted in heka; maternal grandmother of Serenity; maintains a strained relationship with her
kabashem
, Arcturus

Lady Sothis Callidora Tyet—mother of Serenity; strong ties to House Sekhem

Lord Marius Usir—paternal grandfather of Serenity

Lady Dayanara Nopheros—paternal grandmother of Serenity; granted permission to leave House Herut to join her
kabashem
, Marius

Joshua—Blessed

Scill—Blessed

Junia—Blessed

OTHERS

Evan Wade—surrogate family and ex-fiancé of Serenity

Lady Neith—the Great Historian, maintains records of Kindred history and bloodlines; once favored by Seshata, but broke the immortal’s heart when she renounced the Houses and claimed the Library;
has neutrality based on conditions of a treaty made with the three Houses; Blessed

Ravich—an immortal who was declared an enemy of Kindred by Nefertiti; seeks to undermine the political and financial stronghold of the Houses through the Gallacom Consortium

Artemis/Lysandra (deceased)—mercenary and former second in command to Ravich

Mrs. Carter—family friend and housekeeper of Cyrus

Dougie Alexander—Serenity’s former business partner and friend

Chapter One

Serenity stood at the tree line of the woods with life in one hand—in the other death.

Her gaze drifted from her diamond-and-sapphire wedding ring to the single crypt mausoleum flanked by weeping willows. She slid her hand across the slick green marble, tracing a finger over the name on the bronze plaque: Cassian Amatus Harmerty.

The resting place was an idyllic spot for the young healer who’d been the closest to a brother she’d ever had. He was the first in her new family to fall under the blade of a brewing war, but far from the last.

Now they’d be hunted to prevent salvation and the birth of the redeemer. Lofty ideas she still didn’t fully believe in, but the lives of all those she loved were at stake.

She drew in a breath, wanting to linger a little longer. Time moved against them. They’d already taken a great risk to get married on the estate. They had to leave today or they might not live long enough to enjoy a honeymoon. She said her final goodbye and hurried back to the manor, cutting through the lemon grove.

A gentle wind rustled the fine silk of her gold wedding gown against her skin. The breeze carried the strong scent of citrus and sweet blossoms. Weaving through rows of trees, she skimmed the coarse bark with her fingertips. Her heart ached at abandoning the home her husband, Cyrus, had built for her.

At the edge of the grove, roses the size of her fist bloomed, marking the start of the resplendent garden which stretched for almost an acre. She rounded the bend and stopped.

A statue of a hideous hunched creature blocked the path. It was a glodem, one of the enchanted statues Seshata gave Cyrus. The beguiling immortal with exquisite grace and deadly beauty had come bearing gifts said to protect them. A harbinger warning her and Cyrus of what was to come: fire and darkness and a river of blood.

Long, pointy fangs protruded from the mouth of the three-foot statue. Ridged horns jutted from the oddly shaped head and four-inch serrated claws dug into the ground. Although the animated features were frozen in stone, something about the monstrosity prickled her skin.

Cyrus would never read the spell to awaken the glodems. House Herut abhorred the use of heka under any circumstances.

The repulsive hunks of concrete were a stark contrast to the necklace the immortal had given her. She stroked the charm hanging from the gold chain around her neck. The amulet of the goddess Aset’s heart bordered by colorful wings was stunning but had done nothing to protect her from an attack by battle-guard of Sekhem.

As she veered away from the grotesque statue, dread slithered through her energy stream, raking her insides. She fiddled with her wedding ring of overlapping eternity bands and diverted her thoughts to the honeymoon.

The courtyard hummed with activity. The
vadeletori
under Cyrus’s command had changed from their white linen wedding attire back into navy fatigues, strapped to the hilt with weapons. Despite their immense expertise as warriors, they all pitched in with the menial task of clean up.

Near the table with the remaining wedding cake, Abbadon and Spero huddled like conspirators deep in conversation too low to be overheard.

She had no idea who was now second-in-command. Their whole world had been flipped upside down, fracturing a bond that exceeded brotherhood. Abbadon, a bedrock of support for her new husband for more than two hundred years had been relegated to…something else.

A twinge of guilt pained her at being the source of their division. To help heal the wound she would do the one thing within her power.

Prove her love for Cyrus by not taking him from House Herut.

The particulars on exactly how to accomplish that feat were still fuzzy, but she’d do anything to spare her husband the agony of being torn from his House.

The pull of her energy stream guided her footsteps to Cyrus before she spotted him.

He rested languidly in a chair, long legs extended with ankles crossed, and sipped a glass of red wine. Lush dark waves of hair brushed his chiseled cheeks. He was the perfect picture of tranquility, except for the stone-hard expression on his face. Brow furrowed, lips tight, eyes cold.

The shadow looming had spread over her husband.

As she sauntered up behind Cyrus, the pulsating waves of their energy streams melded into one. Smiling, she curled an arm around his neck and kissed his cheek.

Insatiable need pumped in her blood and fluttered through her pores. The hunger for him had been there from the start, right along with the inexorable connection that drew her to him. She’d swear it was only growing, deepening, if that were even possible.

Her fingers glided through his silken hair. The front had grown a couple of inches and would hit his chin in another month or two.

“I was thinking of trimming it,” he said in a distant whisper, as if only part of him were with her.

“Don’t. I like it long.” She bit his earlobe, demanding full attention.

He leaned his head back onto her shoulder, turning his face up. Her heart stilled and for a second she was breathless. No human would ever have such ferocious beauty. She stroked his strong jawline as their mouths met. A slow burn ignited in her veins, heating her all the way to the sweet spot between her thighs. She couldn’t wait to be in Morocco, stargazing in his arms, delighting in his sublime body until ecstasy so excruciating effaced everything else.

Warmth pooled in her belly, the ache of desire rippled down her spine.

He was a dangerous pleasure, a delicious addiction, the greatest love she’d ever know. And she couldn’t get enough of him. Even though being with him could cost her life.

That was the price of being
kabashem
, literal halves of one soul. Or at least the price of being Blessed soul mates.

With a groan he broke the kiss, and then she sensed it.

Someone approached. She knew the vibrations of the Kindred stream drawing closer. Abbadon walked past them on his way into the house.

Cyrus didn’t glance in the direction of his old friend. Instead, he looked out across the vast lawn toward the lake sparkling in the late afternoon sun. The muscles in his neck and back grew taut beneath her touch.

“You’re not allowed to shave on our honeymoon,” Serenity said, wanting to erase his worries. This should be the happiest day of their lives, free of all stress.

“I thought you preferred my face smooth.” He smiled, but there was no joy in his voice.

The unnerving whisper of distance between them echoed.

“I also enjoy watching the stubble grow out. You can shave when we get to House Herut.”

Her heart yearned to go to House Aten, the hub of the three immortals and Kindred magic in Iceland, where secrets to her past were buried, not to Herut in the Himalayas. She shut her eyes, slamming the door on such thoughts. One week of safety and normalcy, and then she would keep her end of the deal with the Creator by going to House Herut and to Cyrus’s people. There would be another way to find out what really happened to her parents.

Spero came up to them, his demeanor all business. “With the expedited timeline, Abbadon could use assistance closing down the estate. I’d like to leave someone behind to help him.”

Cyrus glanced up at the bright blue sky speckled with clouds. “If Abbadon wants help, he’ll have to ask me. I suggest he not dally. We leave within the hour.” He took a swig of wine. “Before we go, I want you to get rid of those glodems.”

Everyone’s gaze swept the patio and lawn where more bewitched statues from the immortal, Seshata, had been placed by her guards.

“What would you like me to do with them?” Spero asked.

“It makes no difference to me. Throw them in the lake for all I care.”

Spero gave a nod of understanding. Then he directed a couple of the
vadeletori
out onto the lawn toward one of the statues. Serenity tightened her embrace on Cyrus, rubbing her hand across their shared birthmark below his heart. The identical mark on her neck tingled. “Are you not speaking to Abbadon or is he not speaking to you?”

“In a few minutes, he’ll speak to me.” The damn unflinching confidence made him sound so sexy.

“Will you let someone from the team stay behind?”

“He’ll have Talus to help him. I can’t spare the others. They need to accompany us.”

The danger hunting them was real. She’d already tasted the bitter sting of Sekhem and crazed mercenaries on a mission to render her barren.

She clutched her stomach over the scars of her gunshot wounds. She’d come so close to dying, to losing him, but he found her in the darkness and tore through the mercs holding her captive. “Are you sure it’s safe to go to Morocco?”

“You deserve a proper honeymoon.” He stroked her forearm, enticing her to relax. For all of his unyielding strength and uncompromising power he was capable of such sweet tenderness, and it was that rare dichotomy she loved most. “We’ll be in a different place every night and the
vadeletori
with us are as good as battle-guard. House Sekhem may send warriors, but by the time they know where to look, we’ll be safe within the confines of House Herut.”

She didn’t dare ask how the odds would shift against them if Sekhem sent the deadliest weapon in their arsenal, Paladins.

Cyrus tilted his head back and kissed her lips, gripping the nape of her neck. A dark, fierce emotion lurked in the passion of his mouth. “Go change.” Today there’d be no fighting between them, but she refused to be ordered around. “You have an entire team under your command and one day all of House Herut will follow you. I’ll always be your wife, but never your subject.”

“Marriage should come with some perks.”

At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “And it does, but you’ll have to wait for the honeymoon to find out what kind. I’m going to shower and change. Then I’ll be ready to go.” She kissed his temple, pulled herself away from him and went inside.