“I am a Druid, an ancient warlock, and I will not falter.” With a mighty heave, he shoves her from his mind. He is trembling with the effort and sinks to his knees clutching the infant. Lailah has seen enough. His character is strong, and his heart is pure.
“Perfect. I am an Archangel, Keane. I am no demon, nor fallen. I was given a choice to travel through the worlds and find my purpose. You are holding my purpose.” Lailah talks to him of much that night and drags from him a promise to raise and protect her child.
Keane hands her back the baby and walks away to claim his sword. It is vibrating with the threat of those hunting them.
“Her name is Anya.” Looking down, she smiles at the small sucking movements the baby is making with her mouth as she nurses her. “My Anya,” she sighs pressing her forehead to the infants, “I will lead them away from you.”
“I swore an oath to protect and defend.” Gazing at his reflection in the silver blade he sees the image of an angel holding a newborn and asks himself, ‘What greater cause than this?’ he turns to her, “I will keep that oath, you will both be protected.” Lailah shakes her head vehemently no.
“It is too late for that now. You are no match for the twelve who will come for me this night. They are immortals, unmatched in your world, but you can shield Anya from them. Her abilities will remain dormant unless unlocked.” Lailah stands and hands him the baby. She is feeling stronger by the second and brings out a book. It has a golden cover and is illuminated with special ink and beautiful images.
“Is that what I think it is?” Keane gasps and moves closer to have a look. He moves the baby up to his shoulder and pats her gently on the back, grinning proudly when she burps.
“No, this is not the Book of the Kells. There are many illuminated texts in the world. This is the Book of the Herald and it must not be found, Keane. Anya’s survival depends on it.”
“I don’t understand, Lailah,” Keane sighs in frustration.
“I know, and I am sorry for it, but I must go, now. Read the book and it will become clearer.” Lailah bends and presses a gentle kiss to the babies’ brow and whispers a Latin prayer of protection. Her tear-filled eyes seek him, “Thank you, Keane. One day you will be rewarded for your actions. Hide the book and keep her safe.” With a flare of her wings, she is gone from him.
Holding the babe against his chest, he wonders what will become of her. Nothing in his life has prepared him for this moment, but in that moment, he knows, he will live for this child and he will die for this child.
Lailah runs, flying as fast and as far, as her wings will take her. She knows better than to call to her beloved. They would kill him for their supposed crime. Instead, she will give them what they seek, retribution, thus buying her daughter a chance to become what she is meant to become.
The first glint of wings in the sunlight captures her attention and Lailah sighs. If she is going to die, she will do so her own way. She seeks the mountains and makes sure to hold the image of her pregnancy for a few more hours. Landing in a clearing near a stream, she sits on a boulder in the setting sun and waits. Her memories of loving him, and being loved by him, are all she has left. Lailah holds onto those images in her mind. She sends him her love, all of it and opens her eyes to face her executioners as they land buffeting her with the force of their wings.
“Lailah, you’ve been judged,” a female voice announces with a laugh. Shock flickers across her face before they attack. The moment their swords slice into her flesh, her lover’s unnatural scream rockets through the world. All of heaven and hell shutter at the agony in the sound.
Chapter 1
Illuminated by the light of the full moon, Katie breathes, deep inhaling the scents of the night into her lungs. A layer of dew covers the lush, forest leaves and the heavy taste of pine fills her mouth. Fireflies float on the evening breeze, frogs sing, and crickets play their moonlight melody. An owl hoots and Katie smiles, the forest is happy.
A twig snaps behind her and silence fills the night. Terror blooms and her heartbeat accelerates. Her hands tremble as she pushes her long blonde curls over her shoulder. Unseen eyes pierce her soul and when he reaches for her, she explodes into action. Plunging through the underbrush she runs, ignoring the twigs and branches that pull and tear at her clothes and skin as if trying to slow her down. The forest observes the timeless tale of hunter and prey.
“Don’t fall, don’t fall,” she chants while she darts around trees and leaps over bushes. Her legs burn with the effort and she wonders if she will escape him this time. Behind her, his wicked laughter echoes through the silent night.
“Run, run as fast as you can, Pretty Katie. You won’t escape me this time! You will be mine!” he roars.
“Not again,” she whimpers. He is close enough for Katie to feel the heat of his hand on her shoulder before his claw sinks deep, piercing her flesh, muscle and tendons, and Katie screams in
