Father. I … can’t.
“Mother, please. Don’t die. We need you!”
Andronika’s plea came from a great distance, as if from another world rather than right behind her. But it was exactly what she needed to hear. Her daughter needed her. Her people needed her. If Father was right, humanity needed her. She couldn’t let evil win.
And Jordan was nothing but evil.
How had she not realized this before? Why did she always deny it? She could feel the evil pouring out of him for years. He’d said it himself.
His soul was gone.
With a sudden and perfect clarity, she realized she’d lost Jordan long ago. Years ago … since before Father left. The figure before her, about to kill her, was not her brother.
It was nothing but a demon.
And her purpose was to kill it.
She gathered every bit of strength she had left in her. She lifted the dagger. And she plunged the blade into Jordan’s side.
His eyes widened at first, but then his mouth twisted up into a wicked grin. “You can’t kill me, you fool. I’m immortal!”
But his grip instantly loosened and they both fell to the ground. Jordan let out a single scream, mixed with pain and disbelief and rage. And then he fell deathly silent.
“There’s only one way to immortality, little brother,” she whispered, “and it is not the way you chose.”
The skin around the silver blade smoked and sizzled, then began to disintegrate into ashes, filling the air with a thick, bitter scent that coated the back of Cassandra’s raw throat. She yanked the dagger from her brother’s body and watched as the rest of his skin dissolved into nothing and then his flesh and bones, until only his clothing remained.
She doubled over and cried. The sobs burned her battered throat and the pain felt right. The physical pain to match her emotional agony. The heartbreak that she and her brother had come to this. That he had gone so far on that other path that he could never return, even when he finally realized he’d taken the wrong road. She’d lost him many years ago, but only now felt the real emptiness.
She felt arms around her—large and small—and heard voices trying to soothe her. Andronika and Niko. They hugged her, stroked her hair back and shared their love with her. Love that strengthened her, that would eventually heal her broken heart and put her back together.
Chapter 22
The others joined them outside the crevice, their emotions pumped into a celebratory state. For they had won. They had beaten evil.
Cassandra finally stopped crying and glanced up at them. Her swollen eyes fell on Inga. When Inga had attacked Jordan with her magic, the witch’s jubilant feeling of served revenge had blasted Cassandra. Inga had deceived them all, made all this happen for her own vengeance. Cassandra jumped to her feet and was in Inga’s face in an instant.
“You did this,” she screamed. “You led them to us and brought my daughter into it!”
Inga’s eyes widened as she shook her head violently. Then she dropped her eyes from Cassandra’s and stared at the ground. Her voice came out in a plea. “You know I can’t create a shield. My magick isn’t strong enough. They found us and told us Jordan had already beaten you and if we didn’t go with them, they’d kill us both. I could have flashed away, but I couldn’t leave Andronika with them. Not alone.”
Cassandra pulled back and she stared at Inga, not knowing what to believe.
“It’s true, Mother,” Andronika said. “I told her to go, but she refused. She stayed to protect me.”
Cassandra didn’t look at her daughter. She knew she told the truth of what she believed. But was what she believed really how Inga felt? There was only way to know and Cassandra had to do it to ensure they were all safe. She listened to Inga’s mind.
“And to kill Jordan,” Inga had added in her own thoughts. “Revenge is so sweet.”
Cassandra pressed her lips together and backed down. Inga was on their side—had even protected her, she knew—but when it came to Jordan, the witch also did, indeed, have her own motives. This was something she would need to work on with her group, because they had to be above revenge.
“We’re sorry for deceiving you,” Michael spoke up. “For making you think we’d deserted you. Since you were not keen on the plan and didn’t want the details, you were unaware of the ruse to fool Jordan. We were always loyal to you, Our Lady.”
She looked at each of their faces and saw their sincerity and their commitment to her. She didn’t need to hear their thoughts to know.
It was her own fault. She didn’t want to be part of their plan, didn’t want to use her powers. She didn’t want them to even have such a plan, even when she knew it was necessary. She should have stepped up to her position of leader so they wouldn’t have had to deceive her. Deception belonged to the Daemoni. They had to be above that, too.
She would need to set rules. Killing had to be a last resort and certainly not for revenge of a broken heart. Deceiving was unacceptable, especially to each other. If she was going to lead this army, they would fight by her rules, those that felt right in her heart. And she knew she would have to lead them. She knew the battles had just begun. The Daemoni didn’t have Jordan, but they had his son … who, according to Inga, was even more powerful.
The Angels had given her their gifts for a reason—not just for one small fight but because humans needed her and her army. Yes, they would have to fight again. They would have to keep fighting. But they would fight justly.
Faiz and the werewolves built a fire and burnt the remains of Jordan’s vampyre and were-creature, the only way to ensure they didn’t regenerate. Faiz had called them Erik and Blasius. They had names. They’d once been human. There were many more out there who’d once been human … who might be able to remember that and come to their side. Many souls out there to save and many others to protect.
She had the beginnings of her army. She had her family. She had love and a purpose.
“We need one thing, though,” Cassandra said the next day after sharing her new rules with the others. She hadn’t been able to sleep, unable to wipe from her mind the image of Andronika’s terrified face when Jordan had held her. She didn’t think she’d ever forget that. “We need a safe place for the innocent, for the weak, for those who cannot fight.”
The others murmured in agreement but no one knew where. Niko, however, was silent, staring at the fire they sat around. When he finally looked up at her, his green eyes shone and he smiled her favorite grin. She couldn’t help her own smile, though her brows pushed together with bewilderment. What could he possibly be thinking?
He came to her and took her hand. “Follow my flash.”
Her eyebrows rose. She didn’t like flashing, the way it sucked the breath out of her lungs or how she felt so dizzy and disoriented when she reappeared. She preferred to run. Niko knew this.
“Trust me,” he said. “It’s the only way.”
She blew out a breath and nodded.
They appeared in the middle of a forest of cypress and pine trees. She could hear the crash of waves on a beach nearby. And not too far in front of her, she could see a line of white marble columns. Niko tugged on her hand as he walked toward it. When they broke through the tree line and into the clearing, Cassandra sucked in a breath. Her hand flew to her mouth.
A structure larger than she’d ever seen in her life loomed in front of them, taller than the trees and at least ten times broader than the houses she’d seen in the village so long ago. Like the columns in front, the walls were of solid marble with narrow windows carved into them. A large wooden door stood ajar in the middle of the front wall. Above the door, strange symbols were carved into the stone. Symbols made of beautiful swirls and lines, just
