Page 98 of To Ashes and Dust
“Shadows? As in plural? There’s more than one of those things?” I asked, heart sinking.
Salwa looked back to the few words on the torn page. “There isn’t enough here to give us much knowledge, what kingdom they reside in, what other abilities they might have, if any.” She looked at Damien. “James told me it’s weak against the flame Stoicheion. That’s a start.”
“But if there’s more of these things...” Damien started.
Something crawled across my skin, my stomach twisting into knots. More of them? It had taken four of us to take down one, and it was only because Barrett and I could use flame magic.
“What if any of the patrols encounter another one and there isn’t a flame user with them?” The worst thoughts came to mind. There were warriors on patrol tonight, males and females who could be torn apart by more of those things. Weapons couldn’t touch them, not even the blades imbued with Selene’s magic.
“James, get in touch with Barrett or Zephyr. Make sure a flame Stoicheion user is put on every team,” Damien said urgently. James nodded, rising to his feet, hurrying for the entrance.
“Damien, do you think she could summon more than one of those things at once?” I dared to ask, afraid I already knew the answer.
His eyes met mine, and he didn’t need to respond. The fear and unease there spoke volumes. “I’ll speak with Selene, see if she has any knowledge of these creatures and if there are any enchantments that could be imbued into our weapons to take them down.”
35
DAMIEN
Irounded the corner of a bookshelf, the astral sprites chittering at my sides in what I hoped was appreciation for helping them put all the books away. I’d sent Salwa home before cleaning up. She’d pulled enough hours, and I imagined she could use the rest.
“Ready to head home,mea...” The words fell short on my lips as I caught sight of her, my heart swelling.
Her head rested on her crossed arms over the thick book, full of illustrations she’d been looking through when I’d left her to put the other tomes up. The gentle lull of air filling her lungs reached my ears in rhythmic waves. I stepped quietly to her side, leaning over to see her face. Her thick chestnut lashes lay low against her cheek.
I was surprised she’d lasted this long, given how little sleep she’d gotten this morning after everything that had happened.
The sight of her stirred something deep within me, my chest swelling. I smiled, looking at the group of sprites gathering around the base of her chair, curiosity lighting their already bright eyes. I pressed my finger to my lips as I looked at them. “Can you help me?” I whispered.
They nodded, taking hold of the chair as I reached across her shoulders, easing her up and against my arm. The sprites pulled the chair back carefully, and I scooped her up. Her warmth seeped into my skin, spreading to every inch of my body as I held her close to my chest. A soft groan slipped from her throat, and she curled up against me, drifting back into the sleep she needed.
“So beautiful,” I whispered, as I laid a tender kiss to her brow. I constantly had to remind myself she was mortal, that she needed rest far more often than any of us did, but she made it difficult sometimes. She was persistent, hardheaded, and I knew she hated her physical limitations as a mortal. I hated it for her, but there were no words to express the depths of pride I felt watching her defy all the odds. My mate. Mine.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the sprites, and they quietly chittered their responses, which sadly, I couldn’t understand. I realized the Archivallia had grown quiet, and I lifted my eyes to find each and every one of them staring up, attention locked on us. They truly admired her, and I understood why they did. I dipped my head to them before I turned, carrying her out of the Archivallia and down the hall to return home.
Home. That word held a deeper meaning now as I slipped through the depths of the darkness, willing the blue flames to life in the Propylaea. This was no longer a house, but a home. My eyes fell to Cas, still resting peacefully in my arms.
Shewas home.
I ascended the stairs, silence reaching every corner of the house. It was late, Ethel’s glowing presence gone for the night. I quietly stepped down the hall and up the stairs to our room, Cas tucked tightly against my chest.
I hadn’t heard back from James yet, and I prayed the warriors on patrol were okay, that they hadn’t encountered another Varyos. Gods, that creature was terrible. I remembered the terror ignited in my stomach when I’d first sensed it, as if death were watching us.
Our bedroom door groaned as I nudged it open. I inhaled deeply, Cassie’s scent of jasmine and citrus mingling with my own. I liked it that way, and I never wanted it to fade. The bed dipped as I eased her down onto the mattress. I made quick and gentle work of removing her shoes and socks, setting them down on the floor. My gaze drifted back to her, to her chestnut hair splayed around her, her hand resting against her chest.
I carefully undid her jeans, and pulled them off her slowly, my eyes remaining fixed on her face for any hint I might wake her. Once the jeans slipped from her feet, she shifted onto her side. I tensed, but she settled back into a deep sleep, her hands curling up against her face. I smiled, pulling the blankets over her before placing a soft kiss to her brow. She curled inward, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Peace settled over me, and I could’ve sat there, watching her rest for hours.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I checked to find a text from James. Perfect timing too, as I wanted to know how things were faring on the patrols.
‘I’m outside.’
My eyes fell once more on Cassie, ensuring she was settled and warm under the blankets before rising to head for the door. It must have been important for James to have come at this hour instead of calling. I prayed it wasn’t bad news, that there hadn’t been any odd occurrences during one of the patrols.
No, if there had been a serious attack, he would have called right away.
The moon shone dimly behind the cover of winter clouds, and pale snowflakes drifted across the headlights in our driveway. James leaned against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette as I descended the stairs of the front porch, pulling my coat on. He wasn’t alone, and he pushed off when he saw me, carrying a file of papers. The person who’d been speaking with him followed.
“Lord Damien,” the male said, dipping his head, and it was the first time I’d seen him in a while. His half-immortal black eyes peered from beneath the mess of shaggy black curls on his head.
