Magnus was as serious and clean-cut as any human businessman. Well, if “any” were six foot eight and three hundred pounds of muscle.
Axel waved the threat away. “May I recommend you peel my skin from my body, too?”
What could you say to a male like this?
His gaze landed on Thane. The warrior nodded a greeting.
Bjorn and Xerxes frowned as they looked up, up the steps at...Zacharel, who was walking onto the dais alongside the six other members of the Elite.
There were four males and three females, each representing one of Germanus’s armies. Though they possessed the same wings of solid gold, that was their only similarity.
The blond and dark-eyed Lysander stepped forward, held up his hands, and the crowd instantly quieted. Expression serious, he said without any hint of emotion, “It pains me to be the bearer of bad news, but the time has come. You need to know the truth. You need to know that our king...our king is dead.”
* * *
KOLDO REELED. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Lysander had made his pronouncement, he only knew that time had indeed passed. Shouts of denial and despair had resounded, and, emotions high, chaos had ensued. Fights had broken out, Sent One against maniacal Sent One. Tears had been shed and the future of their kind had been bemoaned. Eventually, things had calmed enough for the meeting to continue. To end. Then, one by one, the armies had flown away. All but Zacharel’s.
Zacharel had commanded them to stay, and so they had stayed.
Koldo paced back and forth, his body moving of its own accord. His leader was...their king was...Germanus was...dead. Dead.
Gone.
He never should have allowed his anger to override his affection for the male and keep him away from the temple. And not just his anger, but regret. He’d known Germanus would disapprove of his plans for his mother, and he hadn’t wanted to give the male a chance to express his displeasure, to warn Koldo against his actions.
Now he would never again have the opportunity to sit with the Sent One who had fostered and nurtured him and soak in his many words of wisdom.
After everything Koldo had endured in his childhood, Germanus had been the only one to give him hope for the future. And now his body was dust, his spirit in the heavens with the Most High.
When could this have possibly...happened? The answer slid into place before the question finished forming. The shaking of Nicola’s office, he thought. At the time, he’d guessed the shaking sprang from some kind of isolated earthquake. But no. A great and powerful being had died, and even the entire world had felt it.
But Koldo hadn’t known, hadn’t suspected. Had continued on, as if nothing was wrong.
Zacharel waved the soldiers closer. They stomped forward, and Koldo fought for calm.
“We had planned to tell the armies this news at the same time, but after such a strong reaction to our first order of business...well.” Zacharel cleared his throat. “I want you to know that the Most High didn’t want us lost, even for a moment, and so He has placed a new king in charge of this realm. His name is Clerici, and in the coming months he will be summoning each of you individually to meet you and reassure you.”
Clerici. Meaning, the clergy. Koldo had never met the male, but he had heard of him—heard he was fair, just and driven to succeed.
But he wasn’t Germanus.
“Z just gets right down to business, doesn’t he?” Axel muttered in his ear. “He’s a man with balls of brass.”
“We’re warriors, not babies,” Koldo snapped. “We don’t need any coddling.” But oh, all he wanted was to return to Nicola, tug her into his lap and bury his face in her hair. He would sob like the baby he’d just said he wasn’t, mourn for the father figure he’d turned his back on.
She would wrap her arms around him and tell him the pain of this loss would pass. And he would believe her.
“Someone’s on their period, isn’t he?” Axel said.
A growl rose from deep in his chest. “Do you not regret the loss of Germanus?” Was he not torn apart inside?
“I didn’t know him. Not really.”
“Then you should regret that.”
Zacharel continued to talk, but not about what Koldo most wanted to know. “How was he killed?” he finally interjected, able to stand it no longer.
Zacharel frowned. “That was explained during the—”
“Explain again!” A call from the depths of his bleeding soul.
At any other time, Zacharel would have struck him down, he was sure. Instead his jade-green eyes radiated sympathy. “Lucifer decided to make another power play for mankind and sent six of his best soldiers to kill our king. They didn’t kill him right away, but absconded with him and tempted him to evil before delivering the deathblow. These demons are the worst of the worst, and they aren’t through with their plan for destruction.”
Demons.
Fury burned his chest. Fury and sorrow. Guilt and remorse.
“Why didn’t you summon us sooner?” Thane growled, his own restraint bursting. “We could have hunted the attackers. Killed them before they delivered the final blow.”
“And we would have liked it,” Bjorn snarled.
Zacharel’s expression was grim. “You know as well as I that the only way the demons were able to reach Germanus was because he allowed it. For whatever reason, he allowed it. There was nothing you could do that we weren’t already doing. But we shall employ your skills now, for the demons are on earth and in hiding. We have reason to believe they’re planning to build armies of possessed humans, making it impossible for us to fight effectively.”
Because the humans weren’t to be harmed. Because the humans couldn’t be possessed unwillingly. They had to fall to the toxin or welcome the demons with open arms.
“They must be found,” Zacharel continued, “and they must be stopped before their evil spreads like the disease it is. And you, my soldiers, are the ones charged with this task.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ZACHAREL DISMISSED EVERYONE except Koldo and Axel.
Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes flew up and darted west. The females stepped from the cloud and arrowed down, toward the earth. Each person wore a similar expression: a blend of shock and horror, fury and determination.
Koldo wanted to curse. There was only one reason to keep him here—an assignment that would prevent him from hunting the demons responsible for Germanus’s death.
“A horde of Nefas and serp demons did some damage to a park in Wichita, Kansas.” Zacharel rattled off the coordinates. “Clerici has asked that I send the two of you to clean the mess and find the culprits, since you each have a personal stake in this.”