Chapter Twenty-Three

Uriel

Circe breathed deep in her slumber. I’d reluctantly left Nadya’s bed—our bed—to center myself for the fight ahead. It was too easy to get lost in her body, in her love, when I should be readying my mind for what was to come.

I sat on a cloak I’d tossed on the snowy ground and leaned back against a tree trunk, meditating, whispering the incantation to pool energy of the air inside me. I’d been murmuring the old words, the energy humming in a hazy yellow aura around me, for an hour when the swift crackle of an otherworlder snapping out of the Void stopped my spell at once.

Circe didn’t even growl, and I recognized the soothing signature of George before he stepped closer from the shadows.

“Nice night, eh?”

I chuckled. It was gray and cold, as always. “Lovely. You were strolling nearby?”

His suave smile and casual tilt of the head warmed me. “You know me so well. Just a nice walk through the dense woods of Erzgebirge, Germany.”

He strolled closer, the long-sheathed sword now visible in his hand at his side. I knew why he’d come, and my heart ached at the gesture. He sat cross-legged in front of me and placed the sword across his lap.

“How are you, my friend?” he asked.

“I’m well. As can be expected.”

George was the first human I remade into a Dominus Daemonum. He was also the only one who hadn’t died with a mortal sin on his soul that needed atoning for. He’d actually died in a valiant, courageous act that cost him his life. In the eleventh century, George was killed saving an innocent woman from a dragon, a demon spawn sent to kidnap the woman for his pleasure. He would go down in history as the legendary Saint George. But he was reborn as George Draconus, leader of my hunters. And my friend.

I gestured toward his lap. “I see you’ve brought me something.”

Without further ado, he smiled and passed it to me still in the leather scabbard. “I thought you might need her. For what’s ahead.”

I unsheathed the well-crafted sword, the steel zinging under faint moonlight. Circe chuffed from nearby, sensing the danger. She was right to be nervous.

“Silversong,” I whispered. “A fine sword.”

“She’s been good to me.” His voice leveled with gravity. “She helped me find my love and bring her back.”

I caught his gaze, burning with the old pain I knew so well. I’d mourned with him when Kat had been taken so far away, we thought we’d never find her. But George…he never gave up, and he did finally find her.

“She needs a little sharpening,” he added. “But I thought you might like to do that yourself.”

I smiled. Yes, I’d want to sing my spells into her before Ivangorod. I slid my finger along the edge of the blade.

“She’s embedded quite a few demons. And dragons, hasn’t she?”

“And a demon prince,” George added. His voice was light, but the glint in his eyes told me he remembered that moment with relish when he’d gotten his own revenge. “I’m hoping she has it in her to impale one more.”

I re-sheathed the blade and held it with both hands, sensing the magic humming in my hands. “Thank you, old friend. This is generous of you.”

For as far as I’d known, he’d never let Silversong out of his sight.

“I know—” he started, then stopped, pressing his lips tightly together and clamping his jaw a few seconds before he went on. “I know what it’s like to want to protect the woman you love. I don’t want you to know what it’s like to lose her. I know you’re an archangel, but…well, I thought she might give you an extra edge.” He smiled, lightening the sudden heaviness. “No pun intended.”

“Your kindness is more than appreciated.”

“You were there for me,” he said seriously. “You’ve always been there for all of us. And we’ll be here for you. You know you don’t have to do this alone, right?”

I dipped my chin. “I know.”

And I did. Even though I’d become used to doing things on my own, which is how I’d gotten myself captured in the first place, I was happy to rely on friends now when I needed them the most.

“Good,” he said, standing before me.

I remained in place, needing to meditate for a few hours longer. Now, I’d send my magic into Silversong as well.

“Then come to Thornton Hall tomorrow with Nadya so we can sketch out our plan.”

“I will.”

George arched a paternal brow at me. I laughed, which only made him shake his head.

“Bloody hell, Uriel. I thought you’d forgotten how to laugh. I suppose this witch does have some magic in her.”

“You have no idea.”

“Tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

“Tomorrow.”

Then he snapped out into the Void, whirling the snow where he’d stood a second before. Circe snorted and shifted her snout closer.

“Get ready, my girl. Our time has finally come.”

She blinked heavily and closed her eyes, unafraid for the road ahead. Strangely, so was I. Gripping Silversong closer, I leaned my head back against the tree and whispered words of power, summoning winds of magic and longing for my day of reckoning.