Page 86 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

Stop, she shouted. It’s not your fault. She hadn’t made her father leave. She hadn’t forced booze down her mother’s throat. And she sure hadn’t wanted to be a Scourge.

Besides, though her sisters had moved and made lives for themselves, they had never deserted her. The three were still close, ready to come to each other’s aid when needed. The exception was now. Maddy didn’t think Fia or Darya could un-Scourge her.

Okay. This is not your fault. You have you. That’s enough to get through this.

She heard the tap-tap-tap of claws on the tile.

Freki pounced toward her, the smile on his wolver lips fading once he noticed her expression. “What’s what?”

When he cuddled beside her, she stroked her palm along his silky fur, the motion calming, curative.

“You seem different,” he said, moaning with each pet.

“Yeah? Fangs and Scourge wings will do that to a girl.” She opened her mouth to show him proof. Then, feathers ruffled along her spine. They seemed to be growing bigger.

Freki growled but didn’t flinch with her touch, unlike Dom. “You’re still Maddy.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Freki rocketed to his four feet. “I do. You smell the same. And my nose is never wrong.”

“Tell that to Dom.”

“He’s all bulk and no brain. Where is the cretin?”

“He ditched me. He’s off thinking about whether he should extinct me.”

“Scratch that about the no brain. He’d never hurt you. He loves you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Really? How can you tell? Does he frown less often when I walk into the room?”

“Actually, he does. Dom’s got issues. But he’s been happier with you here, Maddy. Be patient.”

“I need a little comforting myself.”

“Won’t I do?” He snuggled closer.

“Of course you will.” She threw an arm around Freki and squeezed him tight.

****

Serenity Valley, Vast, OneWorld

Dom paced while Remi flipped a knife. Blade. Hilt. Blade. Ely bowed his head in silent meditation, and Ohngel clasped his hands behind his back. They waited for Michael, the OneCreator’s Bearer of Death. Why? They didn’t know, but the OC had suggested the confab and they were desperate for insights.

Michael’s role in keeping Immortals in check was different from that of the assassins. Whereas they dealt with Scourges, the Bearer of Death did business exclusively with Immortals. They were an aggressive lot, requiring a firm hand. Minor rebellions and fighting were regular occurrences.

To the west of Serenity Valley was a clear view of the snowcapped mountains in the Aeries Range and, to the east, the Craggy Peaks. The scenery was a startling contrast to Angor. Here, in a sunny meadow, multi-colored flowers grew amid tall green grasses and low, thick bushes. The clouds were scarce and feathery. No unexpected thunderheads burst, drenching the valley with rain. No winds raged across the valley. Of course, the weather remained consistently boring, interrupted only by light, occasional showers and mild breezes to clear the air.

Michael materialized in the sky, his roan stallion gripped tight between his thighs. He unfurled stark white wings and glided toward the waiting assassins.

He dismounted his stead, both of them splattered with blood. Snapping out his wings, he shook them until they were pristine. The Bearer of Death swatted his horse’s rump, sending him to graze.

When the Feard squinted, he toned down the bright glare seeping from his flesh. “Why the fuck are you calling me from my duties?” His piercing gaze settled on Dom.

They hadn’t been friendly for millennia. Dom blamed Michael for the role he had played at Gareth’s trial. Asked by the OC, the Bearer of Death had served as the prosecutor.

But it seemed Michael had one friend in the crowd. “Hey, Ohngel. Good to see you. Where’s your feisty mate?”

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