Protecting humans is the Bringers’ duty. Sending demons to the Shadow World is their pleasure.
In one night, Ravyn’s life plunges from barely tolerable to deadly. Forced to flee the only home she’s known, she stumbles headlong into the clutches of Icarus, a powerful demon intent on stealing her powers. Unfortunately for him, she has no intention of cooperating.
When Rhys realizes the woman he’s rescued from the Bane Demon is no mere human, his obligation as a Bringer dictates he protect and train her in the ways of his people. But he’s unprepared for the intense desire he feels for the fiery Ravyn. To surrender to his need may mean her death.
As the Demon King’s desire for ultimate power escalates, fathers are slated against sons, and foes are made allies. The Bane threat upon them, Rhys and Ravyn must quest to unite the last of the Bringers—and explore a passion too powerful to ignore.
Excerpt:
Chapter Two
Thousands of chafing bites bristled against Rhys Blackwell’s skin, alerting him to the presence of a demon. The irritation was the most basic warning for a Bringer Shield, but after 300 years, he barely noticed the annoyance.
He waited within the trees, hidden from view and sheltered from the rain. He watched the abbey, but all was dark and silent now. His awareness raked the sky and woods around him, searching for the dense void of the Bane. He lived for the hunt, and though he tracked and dispatched the evil back to the Shadow World, the abominations couldn’t be killed.
At times, the heavy responsibility he imposed upon himself threatened to bend his fortitude, but he remained strong. He had no choice. It was no less than his father would have done. After all, the only thing standing between the humans and the Demon Bane was him—the last full-blooded Bringer, the protector of mankind.
His methodical sweep searched the landscape. For an instant, his scan touched a black void, but just as quickly, the vacuous aberration disappeared. This was a clever demon, possibly a Spoil, the most cunning and dangerous evil incarnate. He doubled his concentration, staying the dark impulse to hunt.
A second energy hummed against his body, lighter and more delicate. If not a demon, then what? Often times, when he patrolled the area around Menda Abbey, an unfamiliar presence tapped at the part of his psyche where impossible desires huddled, cold and forgotten. His honor wanted to claim he patrolled the area to protect the humans. Honor before self. But the second energy resonated on a level much deeper than duty. He fastened his mental shields in place, unwilling to submit to its allure.
He tensed and narrowed his gaze at a movement within the abbey grounds. Now, who would venture out on such a foul night besides the Demon Bane and me?
…
Ravyn turned to see Powell stumble from the chapel and limp into the open. His good hand clutched at his chest.“No.” The word rushed from her, releasing the panic she had struggled to contain. “No. You’re dead—no, no, no.”
Powell’s limp turned into an uneven shuffle, picking up speed across the courtyard.
Run.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins.
Run.
Powell’s shouts from behind propelled her forward.
Run!
Mud gave way under her feet. She slid, her body slamming against the gate and toppling into the muck. Panic drained coherent thought, replacing it with the simple act of survival. The heat of her energy slipped away like a coward fleeing a fight. She struggled to her feet, the metal bar scraping her skin as she grabbed the iron for support. She would not fall apart.
She looked back and saw Powell slip in the mud and fall to his knees. Within seconds, he was back on his feet, his course and purpose clear. The gate’s tall spires towered above her. She braced herself and heaved her bag over the top.
A wide reservoir ran directly under the gate, the trench dug deeper by the wheels of many wagons. She stepped into the hole to gauge its depth and gritted her teeth against the numbing cold of the water.
He was almost upon her.
She grasped the iron bars and stepped out to crouch at the water’s edge. The inky black liquid rippled below, its bitter embrace waiting for her body. She unhooked her cloak, letting the wrap fall, and eased to the ground next to the trench. Cold sludge pressed against her back, finding its way between the threads of fabric to her bare skin. Shivers splayed along her neck and arms, the smell of mud filling her nose.
She slipped into the water and gasped. The icy wet blanket flowed over her and through her dress. Every inch of her skin quivered in protest. The points of the gate hung under the water’s surface, jabbing her legs as she shimmied them under the barrier first, testing the space.
She sucked in a deep breath and submerged her head in the dirty water, pushing under the gate. The tips of the iron spikes scraped her forehead, but she didn’t stop until she surfaced on the other side, gasping and sputtering.
Powell hit the gate and dropped to his knees, frantically grabbing for her foot or a handful of material. She kicked at him and rolled away, putting as much distance as possible between them.
“Get back here!” He stood and tested the depth of the ditch. “Icarus, she’s escaping!”
The sodden wool wound around Ravyn’s legs as she gained her feet and backed away. She swiped at the mass of dirt and hair plastered against her eyes, praying he didn’t possess the only key to the gate.
“You can’t run!” Powell rattled the metal bars. He braced his foot against the gate and kicked, but the lock held. He shook the bars again. “He wants you, Lady Ravyn. You’ll never escape.”
She ignored his taunt and scooped up her belongings. With a quick tug, she secured the ties, tucked the bag under her arm, and limped toward the rutted road.
“Get back here!” Powell raged.
Thunder sounded above her, and the black sky and rain obscured her vision. Heat prickled along her arms, telling her more than her eyes ever could. The irritation intensified and spread up her shoulders. She stopped in the center of the path and glanced at the monk, but his attention was not on her.
As he stared at the night sky, his mouth thinned in a cruel smile. “You’re no longer on holy ground, my lady.” His taunt rolled toward her, turning her already chilled blood to ice. “All the worse for you.”
A strange presence pushed at her mind. The pressure hummed on a different vibration from what she’d experienced in the chapel—not malevolent, but still dark.
She pushed back. Pressure thrummed against the inside of her skull. “Get out.”
The force retreated.
The thunder roared above her, drawing her attention to a physical danger. Her fire flared, speeding heat the length of her body. She swiveled and blasted the air, but struck nothing. She shuddered and wrestled to control the energy.
Night masked all that wanted to be hidden. She turned in a circle and scanned the sky, dread tightening in the pit of her stomach. Someone besides Powell hid in the dark. Better to flee than fight the unknown.
She spun and ran, but only made it two steps before something large hit her from behind and knocked her to her knees. Her bag flew from her grasp. Heavy wings knocked her sideways.
Powell’s laugh billowed from behind her. “Yes, yes. Oh, this is too perfect.” He shook the bars violently. “You’ve merely escaped the cat to be caught by the hawk, Lady Ravyn.”
She struggled to her feet and shot another ball of energy blindly into the night. Her mind searched for a sliver of reality within the unfolding nightmare. Throbbing fire nullified some of her panic. With hands held ready, she stood. Her heat burned from the inside out. She clenched and unclenched her fists as it coiled through her body.
The blackness of the night thickened. Thudding wings echoed from all directions. Her attacker was everywhere and nowhere. She turned to follow the sound. Without warning, the creature dropped from the sky.
Large talons drove deep into her flesh and latched onto her shoulders. She stumbled forward, screams ripping from her throat. The creature held tight, dragging her through the mud. With each powerful stroke of the monster’s wings she slowly ascended.
Skin and muscle tore. Warm blood flowed down her chest as she swung helplessly, pinned by the talons. The edges of her senses dimmed. She battled unconsciousness, though she didn’t know why. Unconsciousness would free her.
New thunder penetrated her torment. The noise pounded out a different rhythm than that of the large, black wings above her. The thumping grew louder and she squinted into the darkness. Her eyes fluttered closed, certain the dark form racing toward her was the Angel of Death coming to carry her away.
Something collided with the demon, knocking them all toward the ground. The creature’s talons gouged deeper into her flesh as it attempted to keep its hold. It screeched above her, twisting to find the new attacker.
Screams peeled from her throat, the torture unending and inescapable. Her vision blurred and refocused. The monster ascended again, lifting her with it. Like a rag doll, she hung from its grasp, unable to move; sure her body was ripping in two. She closed her eyes and prayed for death.
A flash of orange flared behind her closed lids, the crackle of fire erupting around her. Heat singed her cheeks. She dragged her eyes open as her attacker released a ball of fire into the black sky, but hit nothing. Another blow from the invisible assailant pummeled the creature.
The demon released its hold and Ravyn plummeted toward the ground. Something black captured her, cushioning her fall as she hit the soggy earth and continued to roll. The breath rushed from her body. With barely enough time for thought, Ravyn registered that a man, not the monster, held her.
He rolled to his feet, and ran toward the trees, taking her with him. Ravyn held on to a thin thread of consciousness. None too gracefully, he deposited her in a mass of brambles and raced away again.
Sounds unlike anything she had ever heard echoed around her. She lay unmoving within the feeble protection of the foliage. Death neared. As the fight to live ebbed, so did her pain. Peace encompassed her. The noise of battle faded to a distant muffle. She watched a leaf dance in the falling droplets of rain and waited for the dark angel’s embrace.
No longer in control, her soul shifted and pulled free of her body. She drifted away from her limp form and the fight that raged several yards away. Her soul hovered, held to her physical body by a single delicate thread. Need to pass through the Veil called to her.
The man was suddenly standing over her body. “Don’t leave me.”
His command broke through the muffled haze surrounding her spirit. The need to obey him warred with the desire to be free of the physical world. The stranger’s body began to glow with amber light. Copper and gold flecks swirled within his growing radiance. It reached toward her in the darkness.
She recoiled from his light, somehow knowing it would hurt. His brightness flared and captured her soul. She fought against his control. Please, don’t make me return.
His distant voice yanked her from the peace she craved. “Don’t you leave me!”
She strained to drag her spirit from his will and go where there was no pain, but his commands ordered her to return to the fight.
His power poured into her and filled her with a strength she didn’t want, but her traitorous body drank deep. She gorged herself on his healing light, which saturated her dying body.
Heaviness pressed her. Golden cords of light wrapped and tightened around her ankles, wrenching her spirit toward her limp form. She fought the pull, but the increasing speed and force slammed into her corporeal body. Her physical form awakened and took command of her spirit.
Air poured into her lungs as she broke through the surface that separated the living from the dead. Pain and panic once again gripped her. “The creature?” She coughed. “Powell?”
The stranger crouched beside her but didn’t touch her. “Gone, but not for long.”
Thanks so much for joining me in this adventure.
Boone
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