Protector of the Flame Read Free Page A

Kindred stream drawing closer. Abbadon walked past them on his way into the house.
    Cyrus didn’t glance in the direction of his old friend. Instead, he looked out across the vast lawn toward the lake sparkling in the late afternoon sun. The muscles in his neck and back grew taut beneath her touch.
    “You’re not allowed to shave on our honeymoon,” Serenity said, wanting to erase his worries. This should be the happiest day of their lives, free of all stress.
    “I thought you preferred my face smooth.” He smiled, but there was no joy in his voice.
    The unnerving whisper of distance between them echoed.
    “I also enjoy watching the stubble grow out. You can shave when we get to House Herut.”
    Her heart yearned to go to House Aten, the hub of the three immortals and Kindred magic in Iceland, where secrets to her past were buried, not to Herut in the Himalayas. She shut her eyes, slamming the door on such thoughts. One week of safety and normalcy, and then she would keep her end of the deal with the Creator by going to House Herut and to Cyrus’s people. There would be another way to find out what really happened to her parents.
    Spero came up to them, his demeanor all business. “With the expedited timeline, Abbadon could use assistance closing down the estate. I’d like to leave someone behind to help him.”
    Cyrus glanced up at the bright blue sky speckled with clouds. “If Abbadon wants help, he’ll have to ask me. I suggest he not dally. We leave within the hour.” He took a swig of wine. “Before we go, I want you to get rid of those glodems.”
    Everyone’s gaze swept the patio and lawn where more bewitched statues from the immortal, Seshata, had been placed by her guards.
    “What would you like me to do with them?” Spero asked.
    “It makes no difference to me. Throw them in the lake for all I care.”
    Spero gave a nod of understanding. Then he directed a couple of the vadeletori out onto the lawn toward one of the statues. Serenity tightened her embrace on Cyrus, rubbing her hand across their shared birthmark below his heart. The identical mark on her neck tingled. “Are you not speaking to Abbadon or is he not speaking to you?”
    “In a few minutes, he’ll speak to me.” The damn unflinching confidence made him sound so sexy.
    “Will you let someone from the team stay behind?”
    “He’ll have Talus to help him. I can’t spare the others. They need to accompany us.”
    The danger hunting them was real. She’d already tasted the bitter sting of Sekhem and crazed mercenaries on a mission to render her barren.
    She clutched her stomach over the scars of her gunshot wounds. She’d come so close to dying, to losing him, but he found her in the darkness and tore through the mercs holding her captive. “Are you sure it’s safe to go to Morocco?”
    “You deserve a proper honeymoon.” He stroked her forearm, enticing her to relax. For all of his unyielding strength and uncompromising power he was capable of such sweet tenderness, and it was that rare dichotomy she loved most. “We’ll be in a different place every night and the vadeletori with us are as good as battle-guard. House Sekhem may send warriors, but by the time they know where to look, we’ll be safe within the confines of House Herut.”
    She didn’t dare ask how the odds would shift against them if Sekhem sent the deadliest weapon in their arsenal, Paladins.
    Cyrus tilted his head back and kissed her lips, gripping the nape of her neck. A dark, fierce emotion lurked in the passion of his mouth. “Go change.” Today there’d be no fighting between them, but she refused to be ordered around. “You have an entire team under your command and one day all of House Herut will follow you. I’ll always be your wife, but never your subject.”
    “Marriage should come with some perks.”
    At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “And it does, but you’ll have to wait for the honeymoon to find out what kind. I’m going