Shadow Guardians: The Promised
Chapter 11

“We have bacon bits somewhere, don’t we?” Katherine asked, leaning into the fridge.

Marionette sat on the dining chair, covered with a blanket, with a cup of Uriah’s hot chocolate in her hands. She watched her three paint brushes add the details of the natural landscape she was busy with in the next room.

One tipped into the olive green paint, then rose to add the foliage to her forest of trees; the other brush mixed yellow and green for a different shade. The third colored the sky in strokes of red and orange.

She probably held the record for completing a painting the fastest, she thought to herself. And she could do three at a time, all without ever touching a brush with her own hands.

But she liked painting herself merely for the therapeutic benefits. She’d started the nature scene out by hand and transitioned to telekinesis when the other females came downstairs.

“Bacon with Ben and Jerry’s?” Ophelia asked while she layered the third casserole of lasagna. One of the servants came in with more sauce. “Thank you, Samson.”

Samson gave a bow. “Madam.” Then he turned on his heel and went upstairs to fetch the laundry basket.

“You’re going to think I’m disgusting,” Katherine said, turning and pouring some blood from a bag all over double chocolate fudge Ben and Jerry’s.

Ophelia paused with a sheet of pasta in her hands, and Mari shriveled up her face.

“I think you just ruined ice cream for me.” Ophie swallowed and drew up her mouth.

“It’s not that bad; it would’ve been better with bacon...” She stuffed a heaping tablespoon of bloody ice cream in her mouth.

“No wonder you threw up this morning,” Mari mentioned.

Katherine shrugged innocently. “Probably just bad chicken or something.”

Ophie snorted, and Mari glanced between the two of them, feeling a little lost.

Katherine adjusted the hem of her jeans. Then leaned back against the counter, got up, and adjusted again. And by the third attempt, she gave up and just unbuttoned them at the top.

Mari giggled. “Arlena says it’s all that ice cream.”

“Arlena would say that.” Ophie said, placing the first casserole in the oven, then wiped her hands with a cloth. “I know better.”

Katherine cast her an almost shocked, almost guilty expression, then returned her eyes back to the ice cream concoction.

Samson came back with a laundry basket full of white sheets, puffing with effort, sweat glistening on his brow.

The females curiously studied him.

He huffed out a breath as he carefully set the basket down on the floor, then took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. He’d never had a basket of sheets this heavy before. Had the lords forgotten their weapons in them? In the sheets of all places?

He bent and took a bundle from the top to put in the washing.

A yelp sounded, and Samson jolted up as if an electric bolt had passed through him.

Terronth lay curled up with Salem on the sheets, fast asleep, with baby spit and a red lollipop falling out of his mouth.

Mari placed a hand in front of her mouth and stifled a laugh, but Katherine just let loose, and Ophelia wondered who her child had bribed to get his hands on a lollipop.

Having heard Samson’s yip, Terronth stretched out and yawned, and the cat copied him.

He looked at Samson with sleepy eyes, then proceeded to inspect his barefooted toes.

“Young master!” Samson held his hand to his heart. “You scared the life out of me.”

Terronth smiled, and Ophie wondered if that was because he was sorry or because he was taking pleasure in Samson’s shock.

He heard a poor Samson on the other side of the room. And suddenly Terronth was sober and launched from the basket, sending Salem scurrying out of the kitchens with a protesting meow. “Maui!”

He ran to Mari, lollipop forgotten, and she picked him up and sat him on her lap.

Ophie eyed Katherine, as if silently telling her, see what you have to look forward to? She suppressed laughter.

The gates of the coven house opened, and the Mercedes roared under Magnus’ foot.

Uriah felt a sense of ease come over him now that they were finally home. He climbed out of the vehicle and walked around to get the duffle of weapons out of the trunk.

Shower first, because he smelled of brimstone.

He removed the heavy bag with no more effort than he would have used to pick up a spoon.

They started back toward the house.

And then she was in his arms, and he was on his knees on worn wooden plank flooring.

He cried out her name as life left her eyes, as blood tainted her face and pain twisted it.

“Wake up, wake up please, Mari...” he sobbed, and when she didn’t respond, a wail of anguish tore through him.

“Uriah! Uriah, come back!”

The vision faded, and Magnus was in front of him, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Come back to us,” Magnus called. Christ, Uriah was pale as a corpse.

Uriah broke free of his grip, then stumbled away, bent down, and vomited on the grass.

“Shit! You okay, brother? What the hell was that?” Draven asked, coming to his side.

“M-Mari,” Uriah panted, his eyes black, and they weren’t sure if that was because of the vision or because of shock.

He dashed past them and ran into the house. He was too amped to care about the reactions of the nosferi around him. All he cared about was replaceing her alive.

He took the stairs three at a time, too impatient to wait in the elevator and wishing his legs were still longer so he could take more. Then, somewhere through the murkiness of shock, it occurred to him that he could actually call out to her.

“Mari!” he yelled as he ascended the stairs.

As he reached the top, she came running out of the kitchens, having heard the urgency in his voice and thinking he was gravely injured.

Before she could do or say a thing, she was crushed against his chest, and he was hopelessly sobbing against her.

“Oh gods!” he cried, and his body shook against hers.

“Uriah, what happened?” She asked, trying her best to sound and remain calm and hoping it would rub off on him. But they were pressed so tightly together, he could probably feel the wild beating of her panicked heart against his own.

Draven was first through the door on the lower floor, and he felt the state Uriah was in.

He blocked his brothers to preserve Uriah’s dignity. “Wait, let’s give them some time. We’ll take the elevators and go around,” he motioned with his head, and they followed without questioning it further.

Uriah held Mari so tightly that she could do little but breathe, and even that she had to do through her belly because there was no room for her chest to expand.

“Uriah?” She whispered softly to him, “It’s okay; whatever it is, it’s okay.”

She heard him draw in a shuddering breath, and then he began to quiet down. He pressed his face into her hair, no doubt smelling her. Slowly, his grip on her loosened.

“What happened?” she asked gently, now combing her fingers through his rusty brown hair.

His shuddered out, “I saw you die.”