Page 13 of Queen of Ashes and Scars
“I’m supposed to protect you, not almost kill you with my carelessness.” I need to think more with my brain and less with the part of my anatomy that is just obsessed with the feel of her… Jesus, even now, weak and whiplashed as she looks, all I can think about is leading her away from these men and holding her close.
“Hey, lovebirds. Enough bickering. We have company,” Keenan says, his deep celt accent intruding on ourargument. The angel grabs a saber at the back of the plane and holds one out for me.
I close my eyes and concentrate on my senses, caging in the Arielle-focussed beast that howls in my bloodstream. Rain drums along the white tarp covering the hangar. The large dome storage unit serves as cover in the middle of the field, the building located at the end of the long stretch of asphalt we used for landing. It’s a dead-end road in the middle of nowhere, and I can hear tires screeching from a mile away. “Keenan’s right. We have company.”
Arielle moves to stand, but her legs wobble. “I wish I could stake a dozen of them, but I feel like I’m going to pass out any minute.”
Leo looks about ready to do the same, his eyes glossy and narrow like he’s still half-asleep.
“You’re in no shape to fight.” Without meaning to, I peck her forehead and pass my gun to the human, Thom. “Stay with them.”
He clicks the safety off with a curt nod, and I catch a glimpse of his witch friend, Alana, as she stows what looks to be a syringe back into her bag. Shaking off the urge to ask her what she just did, I take the sword from Keenan and test its grip. It’s lightweight and malleable, so it’ll do nicely.
Alana ties a utility belt around her hips and pulls a short-bladed dagger from her bag.
I fight off the urge to frown. What the hell does she think she’s doing? “You won’t do much damage with that. You should stay in the plane.”
She tosses me a half-playful, half-annoyed look. “Don’t worry about me. I have my ways.”
The mouth-watering scent of her blood taints the air as we filter out of the plane, and I raise a questioning brow at Keenan. This isn’t a game or an opportunity to show off some flashy, dark mojo, especially if she juiced up on something.
I lean closer to the angel. “If the girl can hold her own in a street fight, good for her, but we should err on the side of caution. She’s a witch, not a ninja.” I won’t let any sense of pride or misplaced showmanship get in the way of Arielle’s safety. “I won’t risk myself to save your friend if she gets a pair of fangs to the neck.”
Keenan waves my concerns away. “Don’t underestimate the witch, Beaumont. She’s got moves the likes of which you’ve never seen.”
My jaw ticks at the playfulness of his voice. “In my line of work, there’s not much I haven’t seen.”
“Then you’ll be pleasantly surprised!” the witch shouts over her shoulder as five SUVs roll under the hangar roof.
Smoke rises from their wheels as they come to a sudden halt, and enemy soldiers filter out of the black cars. If we were humans, a grenade or a bazooka would be enough to wipe us all out, but immortals are made of sturdier stuff. Since we can heal from most…explosive wounds, the fastest way to kill a demon is up close and personal.
I count as twelve men hit the pavement, a handful of them still waiting in the cars. They’re not all vampires, but an eclectic blend of demons, and my throat tightens. Twenty Pereiras, I could handle. The Pereira army relies on numbers instead of brains, but these thugs could be anything from angels to shadow walkers, and highly unpredictable in both strength and powers, which puts them at an enormous advantage. I canvas our attackers for their leader, knowing one of them must be in charge.
A familiar silhouette slides out of the armored SUV closest to me, and I choke on a tight breath.
Jasper.
My brother.
The god-damned head of the royal guard—and my boss.
What the fuck.
I hold out an arm to gain Keenan’s and Alana’s attention. “Wait!”
Jasper strolls in front of his men without a care in the world, his hands buried in his sleek black jacket. “You managed to escape Brazil. Impressive.”
My brows are stuck together in question, but my voice is steady as I declare, “Our queen needs to get home, where she belongs.”
Jasper flashes me his teeth, the smile devoid of any warmth. “With her gone, the Delacroix are done.”
Any leftover hope that I’d misunderstood the situation shrivels in my chest. He’s not here to help. Jesus…my own brother is trying to overthrow the Delacroix empire, and I didn’t even see it coming.
By Nyx, I’ve been played since the beginning… his unexpected jump in the ranks, the weird-ass decisions, the nonsensical changes he made to the royal guard...
I thought his big ego had pushed him to assert his authority over us. I thought he wanted to get revenge on me for outshining him. I thought it was all about him, like always, but clearly, he’d been moving pieces on the chess board for a bigger scheme.
A heavy weight settles in my chest. “You orchestrated the whole thing. You sent me away so you could get rid of Victor.”
