Killian's Hope Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0025-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To Laura Baird, Lea Bronsen and Scarlett Knight. Thank you for your immeasurable help.

  KILLIAN’S HOPE

  Alpha Protectors, 4

  Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  Copyright © 2019

  Prologue

  They sat at a round table, a map of Spain laid out before them, a single token placed over a city: Madrid. Prudence’s gaze veered to the pictures placed alongside. Most of them were of men dressed in expensive business suits, staring intently at the camera while smiling and aiming to appear friendly as well as capable of running a country.

  Jose, the Human Guardian, pointed to an image of a man in a gray suit. His thick eyebrows knitted.

  “The political sphere is corrupt to the bone.” Jose dragged his finger across each photograph. “Crimes are being committed and the country is paying the price.”

  “And you are certain these people are indeed infected by the Sins? What you are asking is not easy to accomplish and dangerous,” Amaya, the High Priestess and Prudence’s boss said. She cocked her head, the room’s white light hardening her stern features.

  “Yes, your excellency.” Jose sat down. “My team and I have investigated thoroughly. Furthermore, having secured a position in the government has enabled me to work closely with these people.” He paused. “It’s more than Inferum.”

  Prudence shifted in her chair. Jose’s words lingered in the air like a poisonous dart about to strike. More than Inferum? There were seven Sin lords in charge of wreaking havoc around the world: Wrath, Sloth, Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, and Pride. Their minions, the Inferum, were already an annoying plague, so if other demonic creatures were openly collaborating with them, things in the European country could be pretty bad and would only get worse.

  “Go on.” Amaya’s green eyes narrowed.

  Jose sighed.

  “Madrid has always been a fair ground for the Sins, specifically Lust and Greed, but things have deteriorated rapidly. In the last year, we have discovered witch gatherings and demonic presence in places otherwise clean.” He cleared his throat. “We have cause to believe they aim to set up permanent camp there.”

  “We have sent Guardian scouts to the city and it’s not looking good, Amaya. We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Pru gazed at the man who had spoken. Aslan. The Guardians’ highest in command. He’d sat quietly through most of the meeting, his silver eyes expressionless and his posture stiff against the ebony chairs.

  “The Guardians and the Human Guardians cannot take care of it?” Amaya asked. “They have been born to fight. We Spell Casters have other matters to tend to.”

  Aslan’s brows rose. “Are you seriously asking this?”

  Her boss nodded, intricate braids bobbing. “I will not put my people in the midst of a battle because a few extra demons are gallivanting through a city.”

  “My lady,” Jose began.

  Aslan stood up and the Spaniard lapsed into silence.

  “It is both our mission to fight against the Sins and maintain the balance.” He pointed to the map. “Spain is not an economic force, but it is a country which attracts tourism and debauchery. The balance rests on a knife’s edge. If it tips in favor of the Sins and we lose the territory, it would be a matter of time before the rest of Europe falls.” Aslan knocked the piece and splayed his hands over the territory. “France, Germany, Italy. If the Sins take over Europe, Earth, we have lost the balance. What we are requesting is not outrageous. It is what must be done.”

  Amaya pursed her lips. Her gaze dipped to the papers spread out before them and then to Aslan.

  “You suggest a counteroffensive within Earth’s boundaries.”

  “Breaking them,” Aslan corrected.

  The high priestess remained quiet. Pru bit the inside of her cheek. She wondered what was going through her boss’s mind. It was not the moment for rash decisions. The mission to Earth could be risky. It would imply a movement of forces from all sides. As Priestesses belonging to the order of Spell Casters, or what the populace simply called magicians, they didn’t directly get involved in warfare. They took care of magical issues, such as portals or Sin infections, but hardly ever would they go into battle. What Aslan and Jose proposed was even more dangerous: to break the space between dimensions so the demons infecting the politicians would be forced to come out and the Guardians could fight on Earth. An exorcism of sorts, which increased the threat of infection by Sins, not to mention, the risk of being discovered by the humans themselves.

  “It shall be done,” Amaya finally spoke up. “Prudence, you will be in charge of overseeing it.”

  Prudence sat up to attention. Her heart hammered against her chest, churning with fear and excitement. Thoughts became a tangled ball of yarn claiming to be unraveled.

  This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. The opportunity to show the Council she could be trusted and considered for training for the position of next High Priestess once Amaya retired. She would make them all proud, ridding Spain of the horrors of the sinful demons. Spain. She’d never been to Earth before but she’d make sure to ask Killian, as he’d had several missions there.

  “Amaya,” Aslan said, the warning in his voice slicing through Prudence’s mind. “This is no mission for a novice, no offense, Priestess Prudence.”

  Prudence bit her tongue and looked to her boss.

  “Prudence is my right hand. She might not have been sent to Earth before, but she has worked closely with me. Her magical expertise is beyond comparison and when she sets her sights on a goal, she sees it done ’til the end. I will help her assemble a team of necessary Spell Casters, but I cannot leave my duties here, as I’m sure you understand, Aslan.”

  Tension crackled in the air and something passed between the two leaders. For an instant, Prudence wondered if what she had seen in Aslan’s gaze had been a sliver of regret, then his jaw hardened and he looked toward the other man in the room.

  “Very well.” Aslan picked up the wooden marker and placed it on Madrid again. “Jose, as we had previously spoken, you will continue to control the Human Guardian side of this equation. I will appoint a Guardian to lead the military side. The three of you will have to work together to make sure we leave no loose ends.”

  “Killian.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Prudence swallowed and scrambled to find a way to explain herself. Her toes curled in the confines of her red slippers.

  “I’m sorry, but at your mention of a Guardian, I immediately thought of Killian. He is an able fighter and leader and I’m sure he would be an asset to this mission.”

  Sweat gathered at the nape of her neck and her mouth dried while she waited for Aslan to reply. She hadn’t meant to speak Killian’s name aloud, but her subconscious had betrayed her.

  “He is indeed.” Aslan’s lips quirked, the amusement twinkling in his gaze irking her nerves. Amaya tapped her forearm.

  “Child,” she said softly. “Is he not your mate? Wouldn’t you rather he remain here? Safe?”

&n
bsp; Pru swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “There is no safe place for a warrior,” she replied. She clenched her fists at her side. “Not while the Sins are at large.”

  “Well said,” Aslan interjected. “But, won’t he be a distraction? After all, the mating pull can be quite powerful and can cloud your judgment.”

  “We are both professionals, always putting our duties before our personal lives.” Pru tilted her head, meeting Aslan’s cool gaze. “As you well know.”

  Aslan stared back at her. Heat crept up Prudence’s chest, expanding into a suffocating ball of fire throughout her face, but she didn’t dare move, acutely aware if she did, it would mean she was backing down.

  “Killian will command the Guardians,” Aslan declared.

  ****

  Prudence grasped the booklet and went through it one last time. It had been blood-bound, the words meant to only reveal themselves to those with Guardian blood. But there was something else she had to do.

  Killian would come.

  She didn’t doubt for an instant once he got wind of the mission, he’d be here, demanding to speak to her, and wouldn’t wait for an official meeting, getting them both in trouble.

  Biting her lip, she scribbled the message and performed the spell to seal it.

  Unprofessional? Definitely.

  But when it came to her hard-headed mate, there really was no other way. She just hoped Aslan never got word of it.

  Chapter One

  Killian exhaled softly. He kept the palms of his hands on his lap.

  Relax. Focus on your breathing.

  A chair creaked. His friend, Max, loudly cleared his throat. Killian rolled in his lips, then let out a long breath. Keeping calm was proving to be an impossible task. Max seemed unable to sit still even though he’d just been released from the hospital after two weeks. The guy had had his chest torn open and instead of taking things easy, he acted like a bee high on pollen.

  Killian observed him go to the window and throw back the thick curtains. Outside, snowflakes drifted in the air against a pinkish backdrop. Light flooded the room, giving new life to an otherwise dreary space. The two landscapes hanging on the wall were meant to bring calm to visitors but they did little to ease the restlessness of those sent to wait here—himself included. The hardback chairs didn’t help either.

  The only cheerful notes were the flowers always placed in the center of the low coffee table. Today, they were white. Pure as those who wore the spellcasting robes. Her image hit him harder than a punch in the gut and he flinched.

  Don’t go there.

  He returned his gaze to Max, who remained immobile, his fingers still grasping the hangings as if his sanity depended on it. Killian’s heart skipped and unease settled between his ribs. He knew exactly what Max was going through. He’d been there too. Reliving scenes which tore at you from the inside out. Nightmares which constantly danced at the edge of your consciousness, its seductive demons beckoning you toward a hollow darkness in which the image of your brush with death replayed like a broken record. If you weren’t able to keep the haunting memories at bay, they would consume you. Killian shivered. Not all soldiers went through the same, and not all emerged the same. He clenched his jaw. He’d long ago learned to keep the monsters away, but if Max didn’t manage to do the same, he’d be the one to blame, for his friend had faced death due to his own carelessness.

  Stop it.

  He filled his lungs, counted to three, and then slowly exhaled. Blaming himself or anyone else was counterproductive. What had happened had happened and he had to let it go. Max would be all right. They had been trained for this and more. They were Guardians, involved in an eternal battle between good and evil. They could withstand almost anything.

  Abruptly, Max stomped across the room, his heavy boots hitting the parquet with angry thuds. A chair scraped against the floor and Killian cringed. Unfortunately, his brother in arms seemed to have forgotten all of his military schooling. Max sat slumped, eyes glued to his mobile phone. Well, at least the earthly device would keep him entertained for some time. Killian tuned into himself. His heart beat too fast and his muscles were tense. He couldn’t go in to see his boss like this. Something beeped.

  “For fuck’s sake. How the hell do you manage to stay so calm?” Max asked.

  “I put my training into practice,” Killian replied.

  “This is not a battle.”

  “No,” Killian agreed. “Not physically, only mentally.” Killian turned to look at him. “What do I gain by stressing out? By throwing objects out the window?”

  “Immediate satisfaction.”

  Max’s eyes glittered. Killian lifted his eyebrows, wincing at the dim pain which radiated across his flesh from the cuts and bruises. Max’s face fell.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Therefore, I choose to weigh my options and their outcomes and to wait,” Killian continued.

  “You can’t predict everything,” Max argued.

  “Of course not,” Killian barked, unable to keep the irritation from his tone. He couldn’t have predicted what had happened at Lust’s lair as much as he couldn’t have guessed Aslan’s urgent need to meet with them.

  “But?” Max prodded.

  “There is no but. I just agreed with you, Max.”

  Killian turned away. He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply before exhaling. He needed to calm down or he’d lash out.

  “You’re angry.”

  “Max—”

  “Why?”

  Killian gazed at Max. He was a mess, his face a canvas of blues and greens, and yet he didn’t seem to be aware of why they were both sitting in their boss’s waiting room.

  “Max, why do you think we’re here?” Killian asked.

  Max stared at his faded jeans and slouched forward, passing a hand across his face and denoting a weariness which made Killian’s anger fade.

  “Because of me,” Max murmured. “I know and I’m sorry. I apologized to you at the hospital. What else do you want me to do? Beg for forgiveness? Yes, I lost it with the girl. I don’t know what came over me. It could have happened to any one of us.”

  “I know,” Killian said.

  “Then? What’s the deal?”

  “The problem isn’t that you lost your head over a girl, Max. It’s that you disobeyed me. I told you to wait outside and you didn’t. You went into a room on your own, without any backup.” Killian lowered his voice, not wanting to yell as a new wave of frustration swept through him. “Why do you think we go into Lust’s in units? Why do you think I always remind you we move as one?”

  Killian’s muscles stiffened, heat washing over him at the memory. It was supposed to be an ordinary mission: go into Lust’s domain and free the souls trapped in its grasp. Then, Max had run into a previous lover infected by the Sin. Killian had ordered he wait outside while the rest of the team fought to release her from Lust’s grasp. It had been a mistake. When they emerged from the battle, Max was gone.

  Max’s jaw dropped.

  “Killian, are you blaming yourself?”

  “I am the strike leader, the highest in command in our team. There’s no one to blame but myself.”

  “Killian, that’s not true. I disregarded your order. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “True, but I also failed. I saw your reaction when we entered. You stopped mid-stride and all color left your face.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  “You know I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You did what you thought was best at that moment.”

  “When we’re suffering from shock, we should not be left to our devices,” Killian said. “Seeing your friend in Lust’s grasp…” He trailed off. “I can’t even imagine it.”

  “Killian, it’s fine. You guys freed her, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’m alive and in one piece, except for a few battle scars.”

  “Is that what you call being in the hospital for almost
two weeks?”

  Max grinned. “Sure do. It’ll be one hell of a story to tell. A definite chick magnet.”

  Killian rolled his eyes.

  “You’re impossible.” He lapsed into silence, grateful Max hadn’t lost his sense of humor. The young man was always smiling, one of the friendliest and happiest persons he knew. He didn’t deserve what had happened to him. He watched him roll his neck, the faint bruises there a testament to what he’d gone through and what could have happened if they hadn’t found him when they did.

  “Are you still thinking about her?” Killian asked.

  “Eva?”

  Killian’s eyes widened and then his face split into a huge grin. Eva? That was the name Max had been bellowing as they dragged him away. He imagined Eva was the other succubus, the strange one who wept. His friend’s face took on a strange glow, his eyes alight with something hard to describe but achingly familiar. It couldn’t be, could it?

  “I was referring to your friend, but clearly that’s not who you’ve been thinking about.”

  “I—”

  “You know? When we got you out of there, you were semi-conscious and you kept calling her name. Eva. Eva,” Killian moaned.

  “It’s just a woman,” Max finally managed. Killian’s lips quirked. “Fuck, Killian.” Max ran his fingers through his hair. “I just, I can’t really explain it. It’s probably the trauma of the situation. That’s what the doctors said because the Spell Casters did their thing. Man, this wound was festering and they were still pumping poison out of me when they came down from Veritas. For three days, I drank foul liquids and stood naked in front of them while they poked and prodded and performed their magic. I’m not infected by Lust or any Inferum, but I can’t stop thinking about her.” Max covered his face with his hands.

  “It’s all right, Max. I understand.”