Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) (6 page)

Fueled by desperation, he shoved her back to arm’s length and dove around her, escaping to the other side of the room before he could give in to the temptation and keep her where she’d been—locked in his arms.

Neither of them spoke, or even looked in the other’s direction. He heard her picking up the fallen weapon and replacing it back on the wall. But he stayed grossly fixated on a Beretta M9 until the prickle of her presence became unbearable and he moved deeper into the chamber towards the doorway in the back. He didn’t much care about the workout station on the other side, but he stood and stared like it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Coming had clearly been a bad idea. He should have talked Octavian into taking his place. He was just as capable of protecting Riley, not that she needed it. None of them stood a chance against her if it ever came down to it. Yet since the attack, Octavian was almost neurotic about leaving her alone. Gideon couldn’t blame him. Not really. If what happened to Riley ever happened to his mate, he’d be just as afraid. But that didn’t stop him from cursing his older brother.

“We should discuss what happened,” came Valkyrie’s not quite as assured voice from behind him.

Gideon turned to face her, wondering if she meant what happened a few moments ago. His insides flipped at the possibility that she might have felt something, even as he nearly winced with dread.

“I mean about the attacks,” she clarified when he took too long to respond.

Relief and annoyance reared their heads at the same time as Gideon gave an almost imperceptible nod in agreement.

They left the room and followed the corridor to the very end where she walked them through an open doorway. The room held only a large, rectangular table surrounded by no less than thirty high back chairs. High windows spilled fingers of light through the thick glass, but just barely. Most of the light came from the circle of torches mounted to the walls. The whole structure reminded Gideon of a castle.

“We use this room for dining,” she told him as they made their way to the very far end of the table, the one furthest away from the gilded chair at the other end. “But my father is using the strategy chamber to discuss matters with your father, so...” she let the rest of her words trail off.

“I thought you only had four sisters,” Gideon said as he counted the number of chairs.

Valkyrie nodded. “My father likes to sit the council at the table so they can discuss business while they eat.”

He tried to think that that made sense, but he’d been raised with a mother who would strangle a bear with her bare hands at the very idea of everyone not being present at supper time. It was family time, she always said. Nothing short of serious injury saved one from not being present. Talking business would probably just get them all killed.

“Where are your sisters?” he asked instead.

“Alva’s scouting the western perimeter.” She pulled out a chair, waved him to take the one across from her as she sat. “Erle’s training the troops below. Anika’s visiting the east on father’s command. He’s hoping they’ll have information on who’s attacking these people. And Serinda...” She dropped her gaze and gingerly traced something carved into the lip of the table with one fingertip. “Serinda’s getting prepared for her matching ceremony in a fortnight.”

Gideon had heard of matching ceremonies amongst some of the veil creatures. It was a throwback of the days when it was crucial to arrange marriages between two kingdoms in hopes of peace or a battle strategy. Selkies had no need for such barbaric methods. Why arrange a marriage between two people when one of them would one day wind up finding his or her mate and leaving the person they were with? Maybe he was biased about the whole matter, but forcing someone into a loveless marriage never sat well with him.

“Matching ceremony, huh?” he muttered, barely repressing the disgust in his tone.

Valkyrie raised her head and peered at him. “Not all of us are fortunate to find a mate,” she said snidely. “Some of us have no choice.”

“And what about love?” he countered. “Can you honestly live without that?”

Her chin lifted in a defiance he found endearing. “We here in the west are not bound by our heartstrings like those of you in the north. It’s my duty to conceive future warriors with a man my father deems worthy of the lineage.”

“And you’re perfectly happy with that?”

She moistened her lips. “It’s not my place to question a method that has been in place for centuries. When my time comes to be matched, I will accept it with honor.”

Beneath the table, Gideon’s fingers curled into fists in his lap. “And when exactly is it your time to accept this great honor?”

“That is for my father to decide,” she answered sharply. “It’s not my place—”

“To decide which man you take to bed?” he provoked hotly. “To decide who you spend the rest of your life with and bear children with?”

“That is not why I brought you here!” she shouted back at him, her cheeks red. “What I do with my life and how I chose to live it is not your concern!”

He snorted, knowing he was goading her, but not caring. He was pissed. He wanted to kill someone. “It’s clearly not your concern either. How can you be so calm about being treated like a prized cow ready for breeding?”

“How dare you insult me in my own home?” her outrage was lost in the shriek of wood against stone when she leapt to her feet. “You’ve gone too far this time, Maxwell.”

“Gideon!” he snarled back, charging to his own feet and slamming his fists on the table. “Damn you! It’s Gideon, and you know I’m right. You deserve better.”

Her nostrils flared. Her hands gave the smallest tremble at her sides, whether with anger or something else, he didn’t know, or care.

“You have no right,” she ground out. “No right at all.”

She stormed out of the room before he could think to say another word. His own rage snapped like hot flames. It took all his resolve not to break everything in sight; not to pitch the chairs across the room and upend the table.

He was being an idiot. He knew he was, and she was right, he had no right to tell her who she could and couldn’t marry. Just because he refused to mark her didn’t mean he had any sort of right over her. But fuck! The very idea of her being promised off to another man ... the chair took the blunt force of his kick and crashed to the floor. It was all he could do to keep from running after her and doing the unthinkable.

She wouldn’t thank him for it though. He knew that as well. Being bound to him for eternity was probably the last thing she wanted. Yet losing her filled him with a pain that made him want to throw up. Her hatred for him was like a ball of serrated nails wedged deep in the pit of his stomach. She had hated him for so long that he had lost count of the years and all because of one careless mistake.

1
693, Salem Town, Massachusetts

He could save them. Maybe not all of them, because that would be impossible, but he knew he could save the girl in the cage.

She was a tiny thing with eyes much too big for her round face. Her bird-like frame was curled in the corner with her back against the iron bars. She had been given a special spot at the very front of the crowd, to watch as the town’s men, men she’d known all her life, built a structure of wood to execute her by.

Gideon took another bite of the apple he’d stolen from a vendor’s cart. The fruit had no real flavor, at least none that he cared to relish in. His focus was too fixated on the horrors unfolding only yards away.

The girl was yet another accused. Whether it was falsely or not, he hadn’t bothered to ask. It hardly mattered. She was barely more than a child. Five girls had been burned before her just the day before and the stench of their death continued to impregnate the air like a dark omen.

He hadn’t been able to save them.

It wasn’t his job to save humans from their own stupidity. Had they been terrorized by things from his world, well, that would have been a different matter. But the fact remained, he was facing human issues. Not demonic.

The apple went soaring over his left shoulder and struck the ground several yards behind him. He wiped the juices off his fingers onto his trousers.

Octavian would kill him. His brother had no patience for meddling. His heart was in the right place, and he was right, as always, but Gideon had never been very good at just walking away.

Mind made up, Gideon took his first and only step.

A rustle from a nearby set of trees had all heads turning in the direction. The commotion faltered as a group of men burst forward, dragging with them a furious and wild figure. Gideon stared, captivated as the girl was forcibly brought forth.

“We found her trying to break into the prison,” one man said as he shoved the girl forward.

Her skirts caught and she staggered, but regained her footing quickly and swung around viciously.

“Get your filthy hands off me!” she snarled, giving a surprisingly violent shove to the man closest to her. “I will not let you burn these girls.”

From the darkness, a figure emerged, tall and pale with an aura that pulsed as black as his soul. He held a book to his thin chest and his expression was one of mild disgust as he looked upon the girl.

“To protect this evil goes against God’s design,” he said in his silky smooth voice. “If you are not with us, then you are against us and must die.”

The girl, teeth bared, lashed out. “I dare you to try!”

Beneath the smears of filth on her face, she was breathtaking. Her blue eyes shone as bright and brilliant as sunlight reflecting off calm waters. Around her, strength, courage, and power radiated.

She wasn’t human.

Gideon was enthralled. He watched as the man signaled for her to be captured and placed in the cage with the other girl. Gideon was about to stop them, to warn them that if they touched her, he would have to kill all of them—a fact that momentarily stunned him. But there was no need for it.

The girl swung with a curled fist and the crunch of breaking bones snapped through the night. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, if the man hadn’t gone sailing back into a tree nearly five feet away. Wood splintered and the man slumped facedown in the dirt, unmoving.

No one moved for a moment as all stood in horror and disbelief.

“She’s a witch!” the dark man snarled, getting his bearings once more. “Seize her!”

The group of men weren’t as adamant this time, but an order was an order and they didn’t want to get accused of being sympathizers so they shifted forward in a tight cluster. Gideon wanted to laugh. Grown men, afraid of a tiny girl barely coming to their shoulders. Then she lashed out again and he quickly changed his thoughts.

She was beautiful. Dark hair flew around her as she dodged and weaved like a majestic creature. So graceful, but precise with every attack. She could have dominated them all, had her skirt not caught around her feet and sent her sprawling into the dirt.

They were on her then, a pack of angry and bloodthirsty beasts. Their hands closed around her arms, her hair and she was dragged to her feet. She growled and tried to lash out, but they had her.

The dark man moved forward. He blocked Gideon’s view of the girl, but there was no mistaking his actions when he heard the resounding crack of flesh meeting flesh. A thin sliver of red trickled from her bottom lip when he shifted aside again. 

Gideon’s blood roared. His vision darkened a moment as the entire world howled between his ears. Fury unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life blazed through his veins. His boots ate the space keeping him from her and he was across the clearing in seconds.

“Who are—?”

His fist slammed into the mouth of the speaker, snapping his head back as blood flew from the gash in his lip. Gideon went for the others next, barely restraining himself from killing each one of them. Unlike them, he wasn’t a murderer.

Leaving them in a heap at the girl’s feet, he rounded on the dark man. Anger coursed down his arms to crackle at his bunched fingers. He knew, even before he’d taken the first step that he
would
kill this one and he would enjoy it.

“No!” The girl hurried forward and put herself between him and his quarry.

Gideon growled deep in his throat. “He struck you.”

She wiped the back of her hand across her bloody mouth. “Yes.” She raised those blue eyes to his face. “Which is why I want him.”

Breathing hard, he considered it. He considered ignoring her and just beating the devil out of the bastard. But he relented. He stepped back as she turned on the shaken man watching them decide his fate. The others, the men who had been so busy erecting the stand on which to burn yet another innocent soul had yet to move. They stood rooted to their places, frozen in fear as they watched the girl grab their leader by the throat and shove his bony frame backwards.

“Open the cage!” she commanded. “Open it!”

A man hurried forward, keys jingling in his hands as he found the right one. The girl inside the pen scrambled out the moment the door was open.

“Run!” the girl told her. “Get as far away from here as possible.”