Ezekiel groomed his bony destrier himself. After many months of retirement, he still enjoyed his time with the creature that shared his memories of the battle field. The great beast enjoyed the attention and after his eons of loyal service, he deserved it. The fading purple glow on the horizon indicated that night was falling. He led the horselike creature back into the stables and into his worn stone stall. The destrier’s plated leather armor was gathering dust on the wall.
Ezekiel had loved and lost. But he rarely lost otherwise. The Ancient One and former daemon king had been one of Lucifer’s closest allies and friends. But he was rarely as impulsive and temperamental as the first king of the hell dimension had been. He was patient. He had spent centuries building a palace for a girl he hadn’t met. One who would end up filling his life with song...and sorrow. Because he played a long game and it took precedence over his heart. That organ was scarred, but it had still been difficult to resist the beautiful, passionate Sophia and her persistent daughter.
They had been his dearest loved ones for many years, but he had kept his distance because it wouldn’t do to coddle a future queen. It wouldn’t have been safe to name her as his heir. Not until she was wise enough to fully embrace her affinity’s power and accept her place. Not until Michael accepted the full burn of his Guardian legacy to stand by her side. He had channeled his love into the fight against the Rogues and the help he had given the D’Arcy family. All without knowing if his plans would fall into place. Autonomy was a tricky thing to manipulate. Lily and Michael had to be free to choose their places even if he’d been certain of what those places should be.
He had used the palace to slow time itself so that Lily and Michael would be peers. He hadn’t done it lightly. It had been the greatest work of his long life, but it had also been his heart’s desire.
He had long considered Lily the daughter of his heart.
Sophia had suspected. Especially when he had helped in the creation of the secret garden with his own two hands. She had visited the conservatory often to watch him dig in the dirt. He had kissed her once in a moment of weakness. Sweet, sweet Sophia. Nothing more than a kiss. He wasn’t a monk, but she was human. And he’d already learned his lesson about loving mortal women.
He hadn’t been able to save Elizabeth, but he had tried to be true to her memory by loving her family. They had become his even though he’d never been able to claim her as his bride.
Kissing Sophia had been a mistake, but no more so than the garden. She had loved him deeply ever after. Or at least as long as she’d lived. He’d tried his best to honor her even as he broke her heart.
He hoped she forgave him. Lily had been given a palace, the garden, a Guardian and ultimately the throne. He hadn’t foreseen the wings. He’d thought she would assume the mantle and wear the bronze wings as he had worn them. Her affinity was greater than his plans. She had become a better leader than he could have foreseen even with his experience. And Michael was a formidable regent, a Brimstone prince by her side whom no one dared go through to harm her.
“You know she feeds him apples. I’m not at all sure they’re good for him,” Sybil said. The seamstress—among other things—came up behind him as he stood at the stables behind the palace. He had an entire wing for his retirement apartments, but he was often too restless to enjoy them.
His destrier whickered at the woman who threatened his treats as if he protested. Ezekiel turned to meet his oldest ally. She was as lovely as she’d always been. Daemons weren’t immortal, only nearly so, but they did not age as mortals aged. If you knew where to look you could see their age in their eyes. Sybil’s eyes were bottomless pits. Deep and dark and too knowing by far. He ignored the tingle of awareness she always caused when she appeared out of the shadows. He’d never had time to explore those depths or the feelings they inspired in him.
He had sacrificed much to fulfill his duties to the throne. And fate had seen fit to tempt him time and time again with strong, desirable women he was forced to admire from afar.
“It’s time. Lily is asking for you,” Sybil said. Did he imagine a softening in her tone toward him? Several centuries of experience with her speech patterns made him more aware than others would be of subtle changes. Then again, she was a beautiful and alluring creature and he was a former king with far too much time on his hands.
“All is well?” he asked. He acted as if he had expected her arm to slip into the crook of his as they walked back down the path from the stables to the palace. He prided himself on keen observation and an almost preternatural ability to manipulate the future, but Sybil was like time and tide—he’d never seen her wait for a man. Not since her heart had been broken by John Severne’s father. When she took his arm and pressed close against his side, he was surprised...and warmed.
“There has been an interesting development. I’m to wait and let Lily share the news,” Sybil said.
Ezekiel knew better than to challenge Sybil when she was wearing the slight curve of a Mona Lisa smile. Instead, he allowed her to lead him into and through the palace. He enjoyed the feminine feel of her body close to his. He had more time for such simple pleasures now. And no matter how long you lived, the beginning of a romance was something to be patiently savored. They walked by the alabaster walls that still startled him with their brightness. He noted that there were additions to the art collection his adopted children and grandchildren had begun to add on the perfect marble backdrop the walls now created. He appreciated the character and warmth the paintings added. He understood why they shied away from sculpture of any kind.
The walls had stayed white and smooth after Lily’s transition. There was no way to know which of the prisoners had been redeemed or which ones wound up in Oblivion, but they were no longer trapped in the purgatory of the palace’s walls. He hadn’t intended to create a limbo out of anger and the need to avenge Elizabeth’s death. He’d tapped into the power of Lucifer’s wings in an unwholesome way and that’s why they’d never really been his. He hadn’t been truly worthy of the crown. He hoped he had rectified that by giving the wings a queen fit to wear them. So fit that they had become a part of her.
Finally, he and Sybil arrived at the new royal apartments he’d designed for Lily and Michael. They’d been built around the time he’d built her garden and had lain empty waiting for their queen and her prince. He hadn’t only been focused on his loss. Deep down he’d had hope for the future.
He wasn’t surprised to find the front living room filled with guests when he and Sybil stepped inside, unannounced. Even without a herald, everyone in the room turned to face him when he entered the room. His D’Arcys—Kat and John Severne and their gangly teen son, Sam, as well as a toddling daughter. The little girl cooed a French lullaby to a ferocious hellhound who could have eaten her in one bite, but instead, lay with his enormous head in her lap. Grim’s puppy. Ezekiel had given him to Kat and John’s son as a birthday present. Victoria and Adam Turov were also present, of course. They looked as striking as ever even with streaks of gray in their hair. He experienced a pang at the gray. One he’d felt before. When you loved humans, you inevitably lost. Sybil squeezed his arm as if she’d noticed his momentary distress. She was nearly as old as he was. She probably had.
“Lily’s in the bedroom, glad to be home. Michael is with her. Then again, I don’t think he’s left her side since she conceived,” Vic said.
“The hazard of being married to a man whose father was formerly a guardian angel,” Adam joked.
“What’s your excuse, love?” Victoria teased. They’d had two other children together after they married. Ezekiel didn’t doubt that Adam Turov had been a fierce protector of his wife when she’d been pregnant. He was a bonafide hero with a following of hundreds if not thousands of people who owed him their lives.
“Elizabeth and Charles?” Ezekiel asked.
“They had to return to school, but they promise to visit during summer break,” Vic said. The palace was no longer a place that her children avoided at all costs. In fact, Ezekiel had noticed the younger the child, the less fear they had for different worlds and different beings.
Yet he still stalled rather than go to Lily’s room. He wanted to see her baby. He wanted to see her and reassure himself that she was fine. But he was experiencing an unusual amount of uncertainty. Of all his adopted offspring, Lily was his greatest treasure. He’d loved her before she’d been born. He’d loved her long and risked everything to give her the throne she deserved.
“Come on. She has a surprise for you,” Sybil said. Kat came over to take Ezekiel’s other arm and the two women flanked him on the way back to the queen’s bedroom. The royal suite was warm and filled with Southwestern touches that made Ezekiel think of Sophia. When they entered the open door of Lily’s bedroom, the first thing that drew the eyes was a mantel filled with kachina dolls above a cheery fireplace. In the very center of the display was the smallest doll. Unlike the others, it was finely carved in the manner of a Renaissance sculpture. It looked very like Michael Turov, but it had actually been a carving of his daemon father. One of Lily’s Aztec ancestors had seen the fallen warrior angel in a prophetic dream. Ezekiel wasn’t surprised to see the tiny kachina Lily had always treasured in a place of prominence among her belongings.
“It’s about time you came to welcome them home,” Lily said.
Ezekiel turned from the mantel to a large chaise where his adopted daughter and heir reclined. He was ancient. He was always. He was the Great Manipulator who had saved the hell dimension from Rogues and the evil intentions of their human slaves, but he was speechless when he saw that Lily Santiago Turov held two bundles in her arms, one on each side.
“Allow me to introduce Sophia and Samuel,” Michael said with a bow and a gesture toward the babies Lily held. He was dressed in worn jeans and a black T-shirt. It didn’t matter. His bearing was every inch his father’s in that moment—a warrior angel—with the impression of his constantly carried guitar faded onto the back of his shirt. “His cousin Sam gave us permission to use the name again as long as we promised never to shorten it.”
Ezekiel stepped forward. Kat and Sybil let him go, but when he glanced at them their hands joined to clasp and they drew together as the dear old friends that they’d become in spite of some rocky times they’d experienced in the past.
Time flowed in unusual ways in the hell dimension and there were pathways between worlds that whispered the secrets of future events, but Ezekiel had been so focused on his plans for Lily that he’d never looked beyond her to a bright alabaster palace and the joyous, growing family that would fill it for generations to come.
“I’ve succeeded in surprising you. That’s one to record for posterity,” Lily teased. She looked tired, but lovely. Her navy silk gown was covered in stars that had been painstakingly embroidered with silver thread by Sybil’s loving hands. The twins, a boy and a girl, were wrapped in patchwork blankets that looked too fine to have been created by anyone other than the daemon seamstress herself.
Ezekiel moved to Lily’s side. He didn’t bother to wipe the tears that tried to stream down his face. They turned to steam and evaporated before all but the most astute of observers could notice them. When he reached his adopted daughter, he looked down at the babies and saw hints of both Michael and Lily in their tiny faces. When he touched their cheeks, one was hot and one was cold. There would be interesting days and years ahead as they learned what parts of their fantastic heritage would pass to them.
“You have given me a great gift this day,” Ezekiel said.
Michael stood beside him beaming, but also watchful. The former daemon king imagined it might take a Guardian to keep up with two growing children who might manifest interesting abilities.
“They are the greatest gift,” Lily said. She looked down at her sleeping newborns and then up into Ezekiel’s moist eyes. Hers widened. Perhaps she had seen the tears.
“No. You are the greatest gift. You saved this world. You gave us light and song,” Ezekiel said. “I love you.”
The whole room seemed to gasp at his declaration. Which was ridiculous. No one loved as a daemon could love and he had loved more than most. He just didn’t make a habit of saying it. Words didn’t do the depth of his feeling justice. They never had.
“I know,” Lily said. Her dark eyes shimmered with the reflected light of a thousand embroidered stars before he leaned to wrap her and her two babies in his gentlest embrace.
* * *
The babies were sleeping. Lily was glad to have a babysitter with Victoria’s ability to sing the perfect lullaby. No challenge she’d ever faced had prepared her for the birth of her twins. After several weeks of motherhood, she was happy to escape the palace for a little while. She followed the pathway Michael and Grim had taken before her. Her wings weren’t capable of flight, but they stretched out behind her and the feeling of flight claimed her as it always did when she thought of her husband.
She leaped from the pathway onto the desert sand and gloried at the broad expanse of midnight-blue sky and stars that twinkled above her. She and Michael often visited this particular place at night.
He was waiting where she’d expected him to be with Grim by his side. They were silhouetted against the sky on a small rise over the earth-bermed hideout where she’d first seen his scars.
“Your mother is brilliant with the babies, you know. I’ll never be able to get them both down and out at the same time,” Lily said. She took her place on the other side of her husband. He reached to welcome her with a strong arm, pulling her against him so the night air wouldn’t chill her.
“Never is a long time for a daemon queen,” Michael teased. He turned toward her and leaned in silent invitation. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her when he straightened until he held her above him. She dipped down to kiss his upturned lips. More perfect than any statue. More hers than she’d ever imagined they could be.
“This night is ours,” Lily said.
“Ezekiel gave you the sun. I like giving you the stars as often as possible,” Michael said. He placed her feet back on the ground and nudged her toward a plush quilt he’d spread while he waited for her to join him.
Anticipation tingled along her skin. It joined the lightness in her stomach and the flush from Michael’s Brimstone and the vast sky all around them to make her dizzy. She gladly tumbled to the ground, pulling Michael with her. Tonight they would sleep under the stars, protected by the sword that Michael had stabbed into the ground beside the quilt, their hellhound who stayed silhouetted on the hill and the power of her wings.
“Ezekiel gave me wings, but you’re the one who taught me to fly,” Lily said.
Michael’s wicked laughter drifted out into the night to echo down all the pathways from heaven to hell and all worlds in between.
* * * * *
And don’t miss any of the
D’Arcy family’s adventures:
(Victoria and Adam’s story)
(Katherine and John’s story)
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Keep reading for an excerpt from THE WITCH’S QUEST by Michele Hauf.
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