Watcher's Reckoning Read online

  Three more carts rolled in front of them, each pushed by another man responsible for summoning the demons that accompanied them. A surge of hatred flowed through his link with Sara, and the Csökkent fell to the ground. Blood poured from their eyes and noses, pooling on the floor beneath them. He felt Sara brush past him, and he stood to follow her. A dozen small spears of light shot through the air, and Darian turned to watch them sink into the skulls of the demons who rushed toward the fallen Csökkent. Eight of the creatures fell, and their brethren roared in defiance.

  “Go!” Sara called out as a ten-foot wall of light sprang from the floor between her and the demons.

  Darian sprinted around the group of monsters, knowing his concealment would dissolve once he left her side. He knew when it did, the extended range of his magic fizzling off as the distance between them grew. The demons howled, and their lust for violence nearly brought him to his knees. He wouldn’t feel their emotions unless his partner was in their heads.

  Let go of their minds, Sara! he urged. It wasn’t necessary, and they still didn’t know if the ability might be damaging to her mind.

  Hurry up with that pretty blue fire of yours! Sara snapped.

  Darian reached the back of the group and pulled on the air around him, calling forth the burning flames that churned in his chest. A wall of blue flame surged from his fingers, engulfing three of the demons at the back of the group. The remaining twelve turned their focus from Sara’s wall of light to his sheet of fire.

  Their need for violence turned to fear as Darian drove the fire toward them. When their backs collided with Sara’s wall, Darian dropped his hands. The blue flames blanketed the demons, and Sara’s shimmering shield folded over all of it. Within seconds, the creatures’ pain and anguish died with them, and silence filled the space.

  Darian released the magic he held and looked at the pile of ash covering the floor between him and Sara. She fell to her knees, drawing his attention. Her nearly black eyes held his gaze for several moments before her lips curled into a smile. She rolled back onto her heels and pushed a wild strand of hair from her face. She tried to contain the long, dark curls in a tight braid, but they never cooperated. Her tanned skin didn’t hide the exhaustion that came from using too much magic.

  “Let’s see if they have toilet paper,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m on my last roll.”

  He strolled toward her, avoiding what remained of the demons. She held out her hand, and Darian pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her waist. She looked up at him and placed her palms against his chest. He loved that she nearly matched his six foot, four inches. She took advantage of her height by leaning forward and kissing his neck.

  “Someone should go back and get the others,” he whispered into her hair. “I believe they’re more important than your need for paper products.”

  She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “That’s a tough decision. My paper products are pretty important.” She stood on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “You get the boys. I’m going shopping.”

  She pushed away from him and walked toward what used to be the produce aisle. The fruit and vegetables were long gone, some of the first things taken. He doubted there would be anything left on any of the shelves, but he wouldn’t stop her from looking. He glanced at the carts the Csökkent had filled. A variety of canned vegetables, soups, and a few boxes of pasta and cereal filled the metal baskets, but no toilet paper. He shook his head and teleported to the waiting truck.

  “Where’s Sara?” Kadir asked when he arrived.

  Darian looked at the warrior leaning against his motorbike. He wore faded blue jeans, boots, and a long sleeve t-shirt, like everyone else. A holster, carrying a nine-millimeter handgun rested on his right hip and the hilt of a long, double-edged sword rose from the sheath on his back. His dark skin contrasted with the whites of his eyes, while his irises matched the black of his pupils.

  “Seriously?” Darian asked. “No questions about what we found or how many demons we had to fight? Just, ‘where’s Sara?’”

  “The other information is always secondary to Sara,” Kadir stated, his smile revealing a small dimple in his right cheek.

  “She’s shopping.”

  “So, you didn’t find any demons?” Micah asked as he threw his leg over the seat of his bike and pushed back the kickstand with his foot.

  “Yes, we found about twenty with six Csökkent,” Darian replied.

  “Somehow, I’m not surprised that you left us here in ignorance,” Kadir added. Darian didn’t miss the resentment behind his sarcasm.

  Micah’s bike roared to life, quickly followed by Kadir’s. Darian pulled himself into the passenger side of the box van and gave Jared directions to the retail store.

  Chapter 3

  Seraphina

  The sun dropped below the mountains as their small caravan bounced along the dirt and gravel driveway leading to Sara’s farmhouse. Streaks of pink and purple outlined the thin clouds still hovering in the sky.

  “We didn’t find enough supplies for everyone here,” Jared said as the large white house came into view.

  “Maybe Mack’s crew had better luck,” Sara suggested. “We need to finish planting the fields so we make it through the winter. We can’t rely on finding enough non-perishables.”

  “I know you don’t want to turn people away, but we might have to consider it.” Jared looked at her apologetically. He was barely twenty years old, but like everyone else, he’d been forced to mature quickly. His sandy blond hair hung across his forehead, covering his light brown eyes. A sparse beard wrapped around his square jaw and chin.

  Jared was the son of one of her most treasured neighbors who didn’t survive the initial demon attack. She hadn’t known Weasel, Jared’s father, in his younger years, but she’d seen enough photos of his family to know Jared looked just like him. In the years she’d been living here, Sara had watched Jared grow from a gangling teenager to a young man. He still grieved for his father, like everyone else, but the demons had hardened his heart.

  “We aren’t there yet,” she replied, refusing to give in to despair.

  Jared steered the truck past the house and toward the newly built storeroom. They spent most of the spring tearing down abandoned buildings in the two nearest towns and transporting the materials to the farm. The first new addition was a bunkhouse to accommodate the dozens of survivors they found along the way. The farm now hosted Sara’s farmhouse, the bunkhouse, and the new storeroom. Fortunately for their growing group, the survivors had also brought chickens, goats, sheep, and several more cows. Her once comfortable barn quickly filled with the extra livestock.

  “Is that Raphael on your porch?” Darian asked, pointing toward the large porch that wrapped around the house.

  “I think it is,” Sara responded, craning her head around as they passed.

  The Runemaster rose, left the porch, and disappeared behind the truck as it rolled to a stop. Darian pushed the door open, then held out his hand for Sara once again.

  “Ever the gentleman,” she said, taking his hand.

  “Some things should not change, my lady.” He winked and released her hand, then walked toward the back of the truck to help unload.

  “Raphael, my favorite Brazilian,” Sara called out as he approached.

  “Seraphina, my favorite Sentinel,” he countered, giving her a quick hug.

  “I’m the only Sentinel.” She returned the embrace, but as she released him, she noticed the small frown he tried to hide. “Come inside. I’ll make us some tea while these boys unload the truck.” She raised her voice as she linked her arm with Raphael’s and pulled him toward the house. “I might even make dinner if Margo hasn’t already done so.”

  “I should help them unload your supplies, Sara,” Raphael objected.

  “Nope, you clearly have something on your mind,” Sara countered.

  She heard him sigh, but he didn’t stop her from pulling him
up the steps and through the front door of her home.

  “Miss Sara!”

  A child’s voice greeted her as she stepped into the foyer, followed immediately by a young girl with a wide grin. She wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist, then grabbed her hand. Sara stepped away from Raphael and allowed the little girl to pull her to her knees. The child looked nothing like her daughter Julie, but many of the little girl’s antics brought back memories of her at that age. Sadness tugged at her heart, and she returned the child’s hug.

  “Hello, Lily,” Sara said, smiling at the girl’s affection.

  “I really like his eyes,” Lily whispered loudly and tilted her head toward Raphael.

  His tanned face flushed at the comment, and he smiled nervously at Lily. “I’ll wait for you over here,” he said, pointing toward the family room.

  Sara watched him walk away and turned back to Lily. “Can you ask Margo to make a pot of tea?”

  “Sure thing,” the young girl chirped and skipped toward the kitchen, just like Julie used to do, sending another pang of grief into Sara’s heart.

  “What’s wrong with my eyes?” Raphael asked as Sara entered the large family room.

  He stood in front of the nearest window looking at the freshly tilled field. His tall, lean body slumped, and Sara noticed the dark circles under his eyes. The messy dark curls on his head looked like he’d ran his fingers through them far too many times. Something he only did when he had too much to think about.

  “Nothing,” Sara replied. “She’s eleven, and your eyes are a unique shade of blue. How many people do you know with icy blue irises surrounded by a dark blue ring?” She smiled, trying to calm the anxiety that rolled off him. “I’m surprised she’s the first one to point them out to you.”

  “She isn’t. It’s just been a while,” he replied.

  “What’s happened, Raphael?” she asked, leaning on the arm of the sofa next to her. She made a point of avoiding the minds of her fellow Council members, but Raphael’s emotions were getting harder to ignore.

  He turned toward her and opened his mouth, then closed it and opened it again. “I’d rather wait for Darian so I only have to tell the story once.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tangling his curls even more.

  Darian, come in here. Raphael’s news isn’t good. She pushed her thoughts to her Watcher and felt his concern immediately.

  I’ll be right there.

  Margo, the elderly woman who stayed in the farmhouse with Sara, walked through the door a few moments later, balancing a teapot and two cups on a wooden tray. Raphael quickly crossed the room and took it from her, setting it on a low table in front of the sofa. Margo smiled at him, her round cheeks blushing.

  “Thank you, Margo,” Sara said. “Make sure Lily helps with dinner tonight.”

  “She’s already in the kitchen peeling potatoes,” Margo replied with a wink before she shuffled from the room.

  Darian came in just as Raphael sat in the chair next to Sara. Her Watcher settled into the space beside her. They sat in silence for several minutes as Sara poured tea into the small ceramic cups.

  “Tell us what happened, Raphael,” she said as she handed him a steaming mug.

  He focused on the hot liquid in his cup, a deep furrow between his eyes.

  “Several things,” he replied, still staring at his tea. “Silana has disappeared once again, but I wasn’t able to track her this time.” He held up his free hand and raised his eyes to meet Darian’s. “That isn’t all. The small shard that contained the Master’s fragment is gone.”

  Darian stared at Raphael for several moments. Sara felt her Watcher’s emotions roll from surprise to anger and settling on fear.

  “And the book?” Darian finally asked.

  “It’s still there, but I suspect that’s because very few are able to withstand its power,” Raphael replied.

  “I thought you bound it so that its power would not be felt?” Darian questioned.

  Sara could feel his anxiety building. She knew why. The “Master,” as they all called him, had tried to possess Darian many years ago through the power of that book.

  “Something has changed,” Raphael replied. “The shard has sat on the shelf next to the book’s prison for years, but when the shard vanished…” He shivered, shaking the cup he still held in his hand. The contents spilled over the edge, and he set it down on the tray, wiping the hot liquid on his blue jeans. “I can no longer enter the room where the box is stored, so I sealed the entire space. I’m certain the demon is still imprisoned in the book, but I don’t know for how much longer. I’ve never been able to understand the spell that confined him, so I’m not certain how to fix whatever is broken.”

  Silence fell across the room once again. Sara laced her fingers through Darian’s and looked at his troubled profile. He stared at their entwined fingers, and his jaw clenched methodically.

  “Do we know where Victoria is?” he asked, breaking the silence. “Is it safe to assume that Silana would go to her?”

  “We don’t know, despite the fact that we have several teams in Europe and Asia,” Raphael replied. “We haven’t been able to find her or Maldross.”

  “And Aneera has seen nothing?”

  “No. She meditates for hours every day, trying to force her mind someplace it isn’t meant to go.” Raphael shook his head. “She still blames herself for not seeing the Overlord’s plans.” He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his hand across his face. “She made me remove the protections we placed to keep the demon summonings from destroying her mind.”

  “I don’t think we have to worry about a massive summoning anytime soon,” Darian said quietly, also leaning back and crossing his ankles. “There aren’t enough humans left to summon the number of demons required to shatter her mind, again.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Would Silana really steal this shard?” Sara asked. “And if so, how did she know where it was?”

  “She didn’t know where it was,” Raphael replied, turning his gaze to her. “There are only two people who knew its location, and I know neither of us revealed it.”

  “I can’t believe she would take it,” Darian said, his voice hard. “She knows the Overlords’ evil just as well as the rest of us. She’s denied them several times already. Why would she change her mind now?” He released Sara’s hand and stood, strolling across the room to the open window. “There must be another explanation for her disappearance.”

  Sara felt his uncertainty through their bond. He wanted his words to be true, but his heart told him otherwise.

  Loud voices from the foyer interrupted their solemn discussion, and Sara rose to her feet. A large man with broad shoulders, a barrel chest, and thick, grizzled beard stomped into the room. His gruff temperament accentuated his loud, booming voice.

  “You’re not big enough to stop me, woman!” he bellowed.

  Margo’s short, round frame pushed him out of the way. “I’m sorry, Sara. I told him you were having a private conversation.” She shook her finger at the man towering over her. “But would he listen? Of course not!” She huffed, spun around, and elbowed her way out of the room, not waiting for a response.

  “What is it, Mack?” Sara asked, shaking her head as she watched her friend leave.

  “Sorry,” he replied, hanging his head as if he were embarrassed by his outburst. “It’s like that woman goes out of her way to make me mad.” He pulled on the suspenders that rested against the white t-shirt covering his rotund stomach. “I wouldn’t interrupt, except it’s really important.”

  Sara dropped back onto the sofa and motioned toward the chair next to Raphael.

  “Have a seat, Mack,” she said. “Tell us what happened.”

  “We lost half our supplies on the way back home,” he said, a long, drawn-out sigh following the statement as he settled into the upholstered armchair.

  “What do you mean you lost them?” Sara asked. His emotions were agitated and resigned, but not fea
rful.

  “A group of bandits ran us off the road and took our building supplies and weapons,” he replied, looking at the floor. “I was gonna fight them for it, but they told us to keep the food. The guy in charge said they only needed the weapons.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Sara said. “Our caravans have never been stopped before, and both of us go out weekly. I realize it was only a matter of time before they did, but why not take everything?”

  Mack avoided her gaze and replied. “Me and the boys might have looted an abandoned house.” His face flushed red, and he refused to look at her.

  Sara narrowed her eyes at him. “Either you did or didn’t, Mack.”

  “Well, obviously we did,” he spat back. “One of the boys was scouting out a few places last week and found one with a basement full of guns and ammo.”

  “So, you stole weapons from a group of bandits,” Sara stated, scowling at him. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill every one of you.”

  “I didn’t know it was their house,” he said defensively, finally meeting her angry stare. “It was abandoned, just like all the rest.”

  “Why didn’t they take the food?” Darian asked from where he stood at the window.

  Mack turned away from Sara’s scowl. “He said he didn’t want the kids to go hungry. Something about humanity already being disadvantaged.”

  “None of your crew were harmed?” Sara asked, drawing his attention once again.

  “They didn’t hurt no one. They was armed to the teeth, though,” he continued. “They could’ve killed us all easily, but they didn’t.”

  “I don’t suppose any of your boys know the location of the bandit’s camp?” Darian asked.

  Mack looked at him with wide eyes. “Nope.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Darian replied, but Sara felt his disbelief through their bond. “We should consider approaching them about trade. It might discourage them from attacking our caravans if they know we’re willing to bargain.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Mack said enthusiastically, rising from his chair. “I’ll have one of the boys meet with Slim.”