Page 50 of Samhain Savior
When he returned his gaze to me, eyes red, I could see a million regrets swirling in their sorrowful depths. “I truly am sorry, my friend,” I offered one last time.
He nodded, his face full of sorrow. “So am I.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, I released him from my hold, the shadows fleeing as he slumped to the floor. Percy crawled to him, and he wrapped her in his arms, rocking her gently. I let them have their moment, my own shriveled heart seeming to rouse at the tender, sorrowful exchange.
But then it hardened again, in a way that only years of service to the Brotherhood could manage.
“It’s time. Vine? Corson?”
The guys knew exactly what to do. Releasing Delilah, Vine moved over to Percy, pulling her away from her uncle and holding her tight. Corson, sighed, standing over Nathaniel and looking dejected.
I understood. We had already lost one Guardian; I, too, was loath to loose another.
But betrayal was betrayal, no matter how friendly the villain.
“Your work is done,” Corson began, and Percy let out a gasp.
“Archer, no!”
“Return to Grace,” Vine continued, his voice joining Corson’s as Percy thrashed against his hold.
Stepping forward, Mal lowered his eyes and joined them for the next line. “We shall now stand.”
“In your place.” I finished the incantation, my eyes never leaving Nathaniel’s as he knelt, accepting his fate.
“What are you doing?” Percy wailed, tears falling freely now. “You promised, Archer. We had a deal!”
“A deal I fully intend to keep, Persephone. I swore to you that your uncle would come to no harm by my hand.” I watched as realization struck, the blood draining from her face as she finally understood what she’d agreed to.
“Corson,” she whispered. “Corson, please. Don’t do this.”
“It has to be done.” He looked at her, his face full of compassion. “The law is the law, Persephone.”
“There has to be another way,” Delilah blurted, rushing to stand next to Nathaniel, her hand on his shoulder. “This can’t be the only option here.”
“You were told not to interfere,” I spat, glaring at her. Even in her sack of a dress, she stood tall, hands on her hips as she stared me down, the shadow collar at her throat dancing in agitation. “I suggest you step away now.”
“I won’t.”
“Fine.” Flicking my wrist, I sent a trail of shadows toward her, pining her arms against her body as they held her in place.
“No!” she shrieked, thrashing against their hold. “You bastard! That’s not fair.”
“I think you’ll find that not much in life is fair, witch.”
She continued to hurl insults at me, and between her snarling and Percy’s sobbing, I was ready to be done with the whole business.
“Corson.” I shared one last look with Nathaniel, hoping that he understood the depths of my regret for how things had played out. “Make it quick.”
Corson may have worked fast, but Persephone’s scream was never ending.
Chapter twenty-two
Delilah
Persephone could barely walk, her body wracked with sobs. Vine guided her, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, as our dour little party marched back to the church.
And what a ragtag crew we made. Archer in his sharp suit, still looking pressed even after the wild events of the last few days. Mal once again dressed all in black, his hair hanging in his eyes as he scanned the crowds of tourists, looking for any perceivable threat. Corson carried himself like the warrior that he was, his clothes utilitarian and rugged, casual enough that he could blend in at any job site or sports bar, but also sturdy enough to fight in.
