Protector of the Flame (48 page)

Cyrus clenched his jaw.

“This’ll make things difficult for you, Cyrus, since you have an appointment to stand before the Pesedjet in two weeks time. Whoever in Herut has the Book of Bylaws has done a good job. Only you need attend. Make it alive and your grievance will be heard. Good luck. You’ll need it.”

Serenity’s whole body tightened. A quiet rage churned in her gut and if her
ingenium
had been working there would’ve been two less Paladins in the world.

Rayhan picked up the dead pigeon and tossed it to Archimedes.

“Neith has violated the sacred pact,” Archimedes continued, stroking the dead bird. “Her neutrality is null and void. Our brothers are on the way to strike you all down.” He looked at Sothis, his demeanor turned serious. “We have no instructions to stand in their way.”

Archimedes removed a small black satchel from his back and handed it to her. “Your father sends a gift and wishes you well.” He strolled away.

Sothis opened the bag. Her eyes grew big. “A goodie bag? Why is he giving me this? Why is he helping us?”

“You’re to tell her,” Rayhan said, following him.

Archimedes kept walking.

“Arcturus said you were to give her the bag and tell her.”

Archimedes stopped in the open air outlet and lowered his head. “I cannot.” A moment later he disappeared into the garden.

“Tell me what?” Sothis closed in on Rayhan.

Sentinels, shifted with swords drawn, began to fly in through various outlets. “They’re here,” Argyle said.

Cyrus ran to Serenity.

Her mother grabbed Rayhan’s arm. “Tell me.”

“Aurora, the Northern Light and Great Consort of Arcturus has fallen.”

A dark sinking feeling settled over Serenity at the news her grandmother, a woman she never even met, was dead.

“You lie.” Her mother’s voice was a whisper.

Rayhan shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t pretend you grieve for my mother.”

“I grieve for our father’s loss.”

With the exception of his dark eyes, sultry and dangerous like Archimedes, and golden hair, there was a distinct resemblance between Rayhan and her mother.

Sothis pushed Rayhan against the wall and pressed her forearm into his throat. “How?”

“Archimedes had the details.”

Sothis looked to the garden as if she considered running after him, and then at Serenity.

“All I know is she demanded to meet with Arcturus. It had something to do with Seshata. When he came back he was different, changed, broken. He helps you because he wants you to live. He wants you to forgive him and to come back home to mend his heart.”

“He can rot in hell,” Sothis gritted out the words through clenched teeth.

“You forget he’s more than just our father.”

Sothis removed her arm from his neck.

Arcturus was the leader of the Paladins. And for some ungodly reason that seemed to outweigh any crime or sin he committed.

“Let me stay and help you,” Rayhan said.

“So you can stick a knife in my daughter’s back?”

“The blood oath is sacred. If I’m with you, that’s one less Paladin out there waiting for him.” Rayhan glanced at Cyrus.

Serenity clutched her mate’s chest, terrified to think of the Paladins out there with only one mission, to stop her
kabashem
from reaching the Pesedjet alive.

“Why would you help me?” Sothis asked.

“If I bring you back alive, I’ll win father’s favor.”

“Not if you’re dead. Sekhem’s battle-guard is here to crush us.”

Hundreds were here. They’d tear Neith’s masterpiece of glittering white stone apart and kill everyone, despite the fact Cyrus and Serenity were their true targets.

“You always have something up your sleeve,” Rayhan said, “and with your daughter’s life on the line I’d say you were a good bet.”

“We might die today. Is his favor worth your life?”

“Dear sister, you once knew the answer to that better than I.”

Sothis snatched off his earpiece and wrist microphone, threw them on the ground and smashed them with her heel. She narrowed her eyes and stepped in close to him. “If you so much as look at anyone the wrong way, I’ll dispatch you without a second thought.”

“Understood.”

Chapter Forty-Six

Serenity hustled to her mother. Cyrus stayed at her side, acting as a barrier between her and Rayhan.

“Are you all right? I’m sorry about Aurora.”

Sothis wiped the shock of the news from her face. “This isn’t the time for condolences.” She stalked toward the main hall.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked Sothis, staring at Rayhan.

“No, but he’s a good Paladin, worth the salt of four warriors. We could use the help.”

Cyrus stopped Sothis. “What if he’s here to kill you?”

“It’d do him little good. My father has a long line of bastards and this one’s near the bottom thanks to his mother’s stupidity.” She cut her eyes to Rayhan. “And it’s too bad, you could’ve been great.”

“I can still be great,” he retorted with pure venom.

Sothis looked back at Cyrus. “This one has too much ambition to throw away his life just to kill me.” Sheathing her sword, she turned and cut through the main hall.

Warriors clamored about the battle-guard of Sekhem on the way, waiting for instructions, ready to shed blood with swords in hand.

Serenity followed her mother’s lead and put away her crossbow. “We need to find Neith.”

As they all hurried up to the library, she turned to her mother. “How many Paladins were on the island?”

“We vibrate as one when connected. I couldn’t be sure.” Sothis glanced at Rayhan.

“Ten of us infiltrated the island,” said the fair-headed Paladin.

Such staggering power from only ten? She shuddered and clutched Cyrus’s hand.

The library was quiet. Across from the empty bookcases, Neith stood pale and still, lustrous silver locks flowing behind her as she gazed straight ahead, holding tight to the railing.

A warship larger than any aircraft carrier loomed in the distance. Long and sleek as a sword it slashed through the pristine blue of the sea. A raging cloud of darkness soared from the massive gray ship, turning the sky black. The choppy sound of a thousand flapping wings filled the air. The riotous beat reverberated in the soul. Sekhem battle-guard.

“Seal the building,” Neith said to someone. “I had to see it for myself first.”

Barenpetium
shutters over every air outlet started to roll down.

“Everything I’ve built for the past thousand years will be destroyed.” Neith shut her eyes as though the loss would be too much to bear. “It will all crumble in fire and ash.”

The shutters sealed in a thud.

Fire and darkness and a river of blood. The oracles were right. A world was about to come to an end, Neith’s.

“What’s the plan?” Serenity clutched her belly. There had to be some way to make it through the onslaught.

A fog covered the ancient beauty and she rubbed her forehead. Cyrus moved Serenity back until Neith’s eyes cleared and she appeared lucid. All those of the Psi class veered away from Serenity, gathering around Neith.

Rayhan observed everything, brows bunched together as if trying to make sense of it.

“Stay at least four feet away from me,” Neith snapped. She hurried to her office and removed the gleaming broad sword from the wall. “The firestorm is upon us. Our window is slim. We must be quick and decisive if any of us are to survive. Follow me.”

Serenity leaned against Cyrus. He tucked her into the safety of his shoulder and they followed Neith down the walkway.

She held fast to her
kabashem
, roping a protective arm around her stomach and tugging the straps of her quiver tighter.

They’d come so far, fought too hard for it to end like this. What if the madness of old age had twisted Neith’s mind and they were following a crazy woman? Her master plan thus far had resulted in hundreds of Sekhem battle-guard descending upon them while they were trapped.

The
barenpetium
shutters were thick and the stone walls even thicker, but they wouldn’t hold battle-guard out for long. Sothis moved in closer. Other warriors surrounded them as they headed into the unknown.

“We will not die here,” Cyrus whispered in her ear.

She’d lost her brother in spirit, sweet Cassian, her best friend of sixteen years, Evan Wade, the tattoo shop she struggled to build, the only home she’d ever truly known at Valhalla, one child to dark magic, and her father for a second time with her restored memories.

Even her
ingenium
which she’d come to rely on was now lost.

All she had left was love. The love for her mate and their unborn child. And faith Neith wasn’t insane, that her mother had made a wise choice in dragging her to this island, and there was indeed a chance to bring her baby into the world.

Death was about to rain down hell on them, but she couldn’t give in to despair. She refused to let this bleak hour be her last. She’d fight for her life and a future with Cyrus, using a knife, crossbow, kicking, biting and clawing. No matter how many came to strike them down, she wouldn’t give in.

“We will not die here,” she echoed.

When only a shred of hope remained, perhaps the greatest weapons of all were love and faith.

About the Author

Isis Rushdan was born and raised in New York City. She has a B.A. in psychology from The Ohio State University. Wanderlust has taken her across the globe and has kept her moving every three years. Fortunately, she is blessed with a husband who shares her passion for travel, movies and fantastic food. Prior to following her bliss as a writer, she had a bright career as an intelligence officer in the U.S. Air Force. She currently resides in sunny Florida, where she hopes to finally establish roots, with her husband, son and canine kiddies. Visit her website at
IsisRushdan.com
, blog at
IsisRushdan.blogspot.com
or follow her on
Twitter
.

Look for these titles by Isis Rushdan

Now Available:

Kindred Chronicles

Kindred of the Fallen

Coming Soon:

Curse of the Blessed

A perfect firestorm of desire could save their people…or cost them their lives.

Kindred of the Fallen

© 2013 Isis Rushdan

Kindred Chronicles, Book 1

Serenity’s soul-reading ability lets her easily create custom tattoos. Everything else in her life is a struggle, from trying to make it work with her best friend, Evan, to nightmares and visions that make her question her sanity.

Then she meets a man who sharpens her craving for something
more
, but her commitment to Evan means nothing beyond sparks can exist between them.

Cyrus has been watching Serenity, preparing to claim her as his Blessed mate—the other half of a split soul that, once reunited, is his only chance to break the curse that plagues his people.

One moment, Serenity is confronted by armed militants firing questions she cannot answer. The next, she is safe in Cyrus’s arms, reveling in his burning kiss…and learning she isn’t even human. She is Kindred, blessed with preternatural powers, cursed to suffer the twin horrors of the blood rage and the dark veil.
 

Their union is the greatest hope for redemption in a thousand years, but not all Kindred want to be saved. A dark secret could snuff out their lives before love has a chance to unite them…and redeem the Kindred for all time.

Warning: Contains a headstrong, soul-reading tattoo artist, a sexy alpha hero who knows how to get what he wants, adrenaline-packed action, and explosive sex that literally shatters bulletproof glass.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Kindred of the Fallen:

Cyrus caressed Serenity’s cheek, as he groped for the right words to explain what he’d known all his life.

She pushed his hand from her face. “Kindred?” Her eyes flared. “What are you talking about? How is it possible for us to have the same birthmark?”

All of his plans, even the way he wanted to explain everything, had disintegrated to ashes. “The bond we share goes beyond the constraints of time, space…the shell of our bodies.”

He stroked her jaw down to her neck. Lush heat stirred his flesh. “Our souls are one.”

“Please, say something that makes sense. Those men told me…you aren’t human.”

“
We
aren’t human. We’re Kindred.”

“You’re definitely not like everyone else, but if you expect me to believe that you’re…”

Her head shook, curly chocolate wisps of hair accentuating the loveliness of her face. He slipped off the band restraining her hair in a ponytail. The wildness of her tresses quickened his pulse. He twined a lock around his finger, petal-soft.