no more slumping in the shadows or cowering in defeat. He looks like a new male, his lips flat with unspoken defiance. His mouth makes my lips tingle as flashes of our kiss streak through my mind.
A small wave of relief at seeing him ripples through me as Vudu and another guard I don’t know lead him forward with a grip on either arm. Golden eyes flit around the room, but Toreon’s brow furrows in a frown as he passes right over me without a second glance.
My chest deflates a bit, which is silly. Of course he doesn’t recognize me. I don’t even recognize me. I just don’t know why that bothers me so much.
I want to give him a signal, some tiny indication so he knows that I’m here and that I’m okay, but he doesn’t look in my direction again.
Stony eyes flash to Morax. “Where is she?” Toreon demands with furious vehemence.
Morax smirks. “She’s doing as she’s told,” he replies vaguely.
Toreon makes a show of shoving out of the guards’ holds, including Vudu, his lips pulled back into a snarl. Even though he’s been cleaned and dressed, he looks feral right now, like all his time in the cage has made him get in touch with a deeper, animalistic side. “If you hurt her…”
The threat hangs there, heavy in the room, everyone watching Toreon and Morax, waiting to see how this will play out.
Don’t hurt him, I inwardly plea. Please don’t hurt him.
I so badly want to call Toreon’s name and tell him that I’m right here so I can put him at ease, but I can’t do that. Morax’s strict orders forbade me from saying who I really am. And even though I’m not under the compulsion, I can’t let Morax or any of his cronies know that. Plus, I have a feeling Morax did this on purpose. To test me.
I refuse to fail.
I tense as Morax walks over to him. Snakes hissing, he stands over my green-skinned demon for no other reason than pure intimidation. Seconds tick by, and I’m unable to breathe as I wait to see what he’s going to do—what punishment he’ll hand out, knowing there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it.
But to my immense relief, Morax doesn’t hit him or use his power to make him hurt. Instead, his tongue clicks in a patronizing tsk. “You have other things to think of aside from a female who will never be yours in the end,” he says, making Toreon’s jaw muscle pulse. “Save your strength. You’re going to need it.”
What now? What is Morax going to make Toreon do now?
A flicker of wariness crosses Toreon’s face, making Morax smirk.
“Now, rather than worrying about things that don’t concern you, it’s time to do as you’ve been told. It’s time for you to earn your keep, Gatekeeper, and focus on the portal into Heaven that you’re about to build for me,” Morax tells him with clear elation. “Call your scythe and go get to work.”
Gatekeeper?
My lips part of their own volition as surprise reaches out and slaps me across the face. Beside me, I hear Delta suck in a shocked breath, but the sound is luckily drowned out by the Abdicated in the room shuffling and exchanging looks.
Medley told me what the term meant when she explained about her guardian mates, but based on the response in the room, a Gatekeeper is a really big deal.
Free of the chains that block his power, Toreon’s hand immediately opens at Morax’s order. One second it’s empty, and the next, a large bone-colored scythe appears in his grip. The staff has carvings in it that look like the tattoos on Toreon’s stomach and inner arms. The large curved blade at the top is some kind of black metal, and there’s a smaller curved blade just underneath it.
He has a scythe just like me. We’re similar, but so very different. I can feel it, just in the air. His scythe has magic completely foreign to me, but I recognize how powerful it is even standing clear across the other side of the room.
All the pieces fall into place as my mind catches up to what exactly this means. Gatekeepers are the ones who created the Hellgate. They’re the ones who are supposed to protect it. The ones who built the original portals into Hell that the Gate Guardians watch over. But the Gatekeepers died out a long time ago. Or so we thought.