1866

Agitation fuels my pacing. Only Ambrose’s stern order is keeping me from rushing from the house to my mate’s side. Malachi had escorted Cassandra to town, since he’d had business there as well and I was needed in the stables. Lily Dancer had thrown a shoe and the hoof had contracted a strange infection within a day. I’m the only one the mare will let near so I spent the afternoon with her, applying poultices, heat wraps, and anything else I’d learned over the centuries of my life.

I trust Malachi with my life, and with Cassandra’s, I remind myself as I make my way to the window overlooking the drive. It was nearing dusk, and while the two weren’t late, the unease I feel through the mate bond has my fangs elongating.

Something is wrong. Not enough for Ambrose to allow me to rush off and risk causing a scene.

Not with the increased focus on us.

Resisting the urge to gnash my teeth, I think of the bastards who spit vile declarations at my wife after she’d saved a woman and her new babe. I’d wanted to tear out their throats in that moment, but Josephine had helped me hold back.

Maybe if her son, Lan, had been with me, the men wouldn’t be an issue.

A blur appears, shooting down the lane, before slowing to reveal Cassandra in Malachi’s arms. The sight of my mate in another male’s arms—regardless of who it is—is too much. Ignoring Ambrose, I’m out of the room and then the house a heartbeat later. Malachi is in the process of setting Cassandra on her feet, when I take her from his arms, only partly successful in tempering my possessive snarl.

He holds his hands up in surrender, his face more serious than his typical easy grin.

I look down at Cassandra, her heartbeat soothing my anxiety better than any draught or tonic. Her unease has lessened, but enough remains that I know it’s not due to Malachi carrying her.

My eyes snap to Malachi, our gold gazes meeting. “What happened?”

My tone is harder than intended, but the male doesn’t take it personally.

“Just a little scuffle,” Cassandra says as she tries to wiggle free of my arms. She huffs and gives up when I grip her tighter with a rumble.

Malachi isn’t as glib.

“Those so-called devil hunters have started riling up the townspeople.” Malachi nods towards the house and, to Cassandra’s tangible relief, I set her down and we walk beside him. I keep my arm wrapped around her, tucking her into my side. The primal urge to protect my mate demands no less. Next to me is where she is safest. I can kill anything before it touches her. It’s worrying when she doesn’t try to step away, her own arm coming around my lower back.

“Did something happen?” I asked as we re-enter the house. Malachi closes the door behind us and Cassandra steps away from me. Not far enough to be out of reach; alarm shoots my brows upwards as she breathes out a warding spell and places her palm against the door. The air ripples as her ward settles into place.

She looks up at me, her expression grim. “Just a precaution.” Her smile falls flat.

“We need to speak with Ambrose,” Malachi says in lieu of explaining further. Cassandra looks resigned but doesn’t disagree. I catch her hand, threading her fingers with mine and she gives me a grateful squeeze.

Ambrose is standing at his desk, arms folded, when we walk in.

“Explain.”

His order is succinct and firm. He’d have heard everything and felt the wards rise. I won’t be surprised if the others join us soon, curious to know why Cassandra had cast protective magic.

Malachi nods once, the move sharp. His normal arrogant demeanor has disappeared. In its place is the soldier and general I first met years ago. As he reports, I grind my molars. Ambrose’s expression never changes but his anger is clear in the stiffening of his shoulders, the tight squeeze of his fists where his arms are crossed. I don’t realize how tense I’ve grown until Cassandra presses a hand against my bicep.

As predicted, others join us during Malachi’s accounting of their experience in town. Kasar slips in, with Josephine on his heels—the woman as silent as the Lion. Her son, Lan, follows moments later with less subtlety but doesn’t interrupt. Rhys and Ezra are the last to enter the study, both of them wearing concerning expressions.

When Malachi finishes, a poignant silence packs the room.

“We should strike first,” Lan says in a bored drawl. “I don’t see why we don’t take care of these men before they turn the town into a mob.”

Kasar huffs through his nose, sending a scalding look to the blond vampire leaning against the wall across from him. “If we kill these men, it will only prove what they are saying. We will be the monsters they claim.”

Lan cocks a brow at Kasar. “We are monsters, or have you forgotten?”

“Landon!” Josephine chides her son and Lan purses his lips but stays quiet. Josephine looks at my wife. “What of Charity and her babe? Of Johnathan?”

A wave of unease reaches me through the bond and I look down at her, worry weighing down my chest. Cassandra rolls her lips, torn, before speaking.

“Johnathan wouldn’t let me see them,” she admits at last. “He said they were sleeping and didn’t want to disturb them. But he was different. I got the impression he was lying, but I didn’t want to push too hard.” Cassandra looks between me and Ambrose. She’s practically shaking in my embrace. “I’m worried about them, if I’m honest. I remember, in too vivid of detail, what witch hunters have done to my people and those they consider witch lovers.”

I’m speaking before realizing it. “It won’t come to that. I’ll kill every single one of them before letting them touch you.”

Rhys and Ezra give a quiet hear-hear in agreement, but Cassandra shakes her head. “You don’t understand, my love. These people... they can’t be stopped, not if they’re true devotees.”

Ambrose interjects then. “What do you mean?”

Cassandra meets his hard stare head-on. “I’m shocked you aren’t familiar with them, given your age. Though I guess witch hunters must all be the same to you.” She holds up a hand, her eyes crinkling in apology. “I don’t mean to cause offense. It’s just... these are the people I was raised being warned about. They’re a witch’s boogeyman so to speak. You know of demons and those who make deals with them? There are these hunters who do the same, except instead of demons, they seek out those people called angels. During the witch trials years ago, we believed that there was a large conflict in the celestial realms. It overflowed to our realm, and both sides used humanity.”

“As above, so below,” Ezra mutters quietly, shaking his head.

Cassandra gives him a solemn look. “Just so.”

“It sounds familiar,” Kasar says, looking at Ambrose. “We’ve had a few run-ins with groups with supposed holy patrons. These are whom you’re talking about?”

“Most likely,” Cassandra answers after a moment of consideration. “I can’t exactly say. They’re dangerous, though. More dangerous than any group of humans with pitchforks and torches.”

Ambrose looks out of the window, his eyes going distant as he ponders the situation.

“We should leave,” I say, pulling everyone’s attention to me. I don’t cower under my sire’s hard stare. Not when it comes to protecting my mate. “We don’t need to stay here. Why risk a bigger confrontation?” Someone snorts, probably Lan, but I don’t stop. “We’ve already accomplished what we came here for. If the town is already turning against us, we aren’t as well liked as we thought.”

“And run like rats, scurrying to safety in the dark?” Malachi says with disgust. He cuts his hand sharply through the air. “That has never been our way and you know it.”

“When you have a mate to protect, you stop giving a shit what you did in the past,” I snap back. Irritation and the primal need to protect Cassandra skitters under my skin.

Malachi rolls his eyes and I take a step forward, lip curling up in a snarl.

“Stand down.” Ambrose’s command is quiet, no more than a breeze through the trees, but filled with enough power to freeze Malachi and me in place. The smallest tug has me stepping back beside an irritated Cassandra.

“I don’t want to be run from my home, Ashe.” Her words are more confident than the emotions I sense through our bond. “Besides, there are things I can do to stop them.”

Ambrose straightens off the desk, his entire focus on my wife. “How so?”

Cassandra spares a short look up at me, and I immediately know I’ll hate anything she says. She doesn’t look away from Ambrose while she answers.

“If they are, in fact, working with a patron, as they call it, then it depends on the power of the patron. If they’ve only been given minor blessings, then I don’t think we need to worry about a direct confrontation with them.”

Kasar is the one who speaks next. “And if they’ve more than minor blessings?”

I can hear my wife’s hard swallow. “Then there is very little even the most powerful being in our realm can do.”

“In this realm,” Ambrose repeats, but his question is clear.

Cassandra nods. “The best way to fight a being from a different realm is to seek the help of one from the same realm.”

“You’re talking about deals with a demon?” Josephine’s voice is quiet with fear. “No, darling. That is too dangerous.”

Nausea sours my stomach as Cassandra’s fear threatens to overwhelm me through our mating bond. I’ve seen humans who’ve made bargains with demons, even ones who believed they’d figured out a way to outsmart a demon’s abilities to twist words. Every time, the demon wins. The mortal gets what they wished for, but every single one I’ve witnessed has regretted the deal in the end.

I cannot let my wife make the same mistake.

A deep beating rhythm is faint at first but grows steadily louder. Drums. Only Cassandra doesn’t hear them approaching. She can’t send out her senses to count the shocking number of heartbeats marching towards the house.

She does notice, however, the way each of us straighten and bristle.

We’re too used to what the sound means. It means we won’t be able to avoid a battle, not with a mob already coming for us.

“Arm yourselves, gentlemen,” Ambrose orders, swiftly turning and going to the polished wooden case and opening it. He retrieves two bone-hilted daggers, relics of his human days. When he turns back to us, fitting the sheaths to his belt, he’s adopted the hard expression of the man who turned me on a bloody battlefield. “Cassandra, set what wards you can. Then, you and Josephine must prepare the livestock’s blood in the event we need it. The rest of you, meet me in the foyer to prepare ourselves.”

Everyone files out as the uncertain threat becomes reality. I take Cassandra by the hand, leading her quickly to our room. When I’ve closed the door behind her, I wheel and grip her by the shoulders, bringing my face close to hers.

“Whatever you do,” I grit out, “whatever happens, do not summon a demon.”

She trembles, grasping my wrists like a lifeline. Her fear sours the air around me, drowning out the sweet scent of her.

“Ashe,” she begins and I shake her, rattling her into silence.

“No,” I snarl. “Swear it. I would rather die by your side if that is our fate. I will not lose you to a demon’s schemes.”

Her eyes are wide and water-lined. I sigh and close my eyes as I press my forehead against hers. I slide my hands from her shoulders to cup her neck and jaw. “I love you, my mate. I cannot lose you.”

“And I cannot lose you,” she replies, her words wobbling. Her fear hurts more than any wound.

“Swear it,” I plead, ghosting a kiss over her lips. “Swear you won’t do it, no matter what.”

Her heart stutters at my words and I brace myself, readying myself to tie her up and put her in the wardrobe if I must. The only reason why I haven’t sent her away is I know she’s too stubborn to listen, and if she’s tied up in a wardrobe... if the worst happens, I want her to be able to fight until the end.

She presses her petal-sweet lips to mine. “I swear,” Cassandra breathes out. “I won’t summon a demon.”

Her words are rushed, but the drums and heartbeats are close enough that she must hear the mob herself. She guides my mouth to her neck, tilting her head away to submit to me.

“Feed. You need it for the fight ahead.”

I should say no, knowing if I feed from her too much, she’ll be weakened. If she’s right, though, that these men have abilities granted to them by a higher power, we need every edge we can get. I breathe in the scent of her, imprinting it on my senses, vowing this will not be the last time I have her. Then I sink my fangs into her flesh and drink down her intoxicating, empowering blood.