Heart of Vengeance (Alice Worth #6) - Lisa Edmonds Page 0,87

who did not have Spartoi blood. They wanted to prevent their abilities from disappearing through intermarriage with humans. The penalty for breaking that law was death—for the Spartoi, their lover, and their lover’s entire family. It was ruthlessly enforced. That, as much as their reputation for slaughtering not only their enemies but anyone who got in the way, led to their well-deserved reputation for cruelty.”

“So where do the Guardians come into play?” I asked.

“After Cadmus’s death, the Spartoi and their descendants split into different groups. Some became mercenaries, protecting kingdoms and wealthy families. Others joined the Knights Templar. One group dedicated itself to protecting humans from various supernatural threats and became the League of Guardians.”

“A-ha,” I said. “Now it makes sense.”

“The modern League operates like a branch of the military and serves as law enforcement for nonhumans. Our jurisdiction is the entire United States. We go when and where we’re needed, usually either in pairs or teams, to deal with supernatural beings and creatures who cause problems.”

“And the Spartoi?” Malcolm wanted to know. “Are they still around?”

“Unfortunately, yes. They work as individual operatives or mercenaries, generally. Some of them belong to a guild called the Brotherhood of Cadmus. When they’re hired to deal with a supernatural problem, they tend to kill first and not bother to ask questions later. Collateral damage doesn’t bother them. The end always justifies the means. Sometimes we’re forced to work together, but the League and the Spartoi despise each other.”

“I can see why,” I said. “They sound just as nasty as the creatures you have to deal with.”

“You’re not wrong. With any luck, you won’t cross paths with any while you’re here.”

“So that’s why you looked at me funny when I asked how you became a Guardian,” Malcolm said suddenly. “No one joins the Guardians—you either have Spartoi blood, or you don’t.”

“Guardian blood,” she corrected. “Not Spartoi.”

“Sorry. No offense.”

She blew out a breath. “I wanted nothing to do with the Guardians, and I sure as hell don’t want to be lumped in with the Spartoi. I’m only half Guardian. My father was a Guardian. My mother isn’t.”

“Do the Guardians not have the same policy as the Spartoi about children?” I asked.

“They had the exact same policy, up until the last few years, when the League underwent some major changes. Before that, it didn’t matter what a Guardian wanted, or who they loved. They wanted to protect the Guardian abilities at all costs, and they were a bunch of elitist assholes to boot. I was never supposed to be born. The Guardians made my life a living hell because of it. But my father loved my mother, and they wanted a baby, and here I am.” She smiled—a real, genuine smile. “I got my Guardian abilities from my dad, my connection to the afterlife from my mom, and my stubbornness from both of them.”

“You said you joined up after someone you knew was murdered,” I said. “Was it your father?”

Her hands flexed on the wheel. “I’d rather not talk about that, if it’s all the same to you. Those wounds are still pretty raw.”

“No problem.” I knew all about those kinds of wounds. I spotted several more ghosts along the road in front of us, glowing in the jeep’s supe lights. “I’m used to sensing ghosts, but not to seeing them everywhere.”

“Welcome to my world,” Lucy said with a chuckle. “I mean, literally, welcome to my world. We’re got a three-hour drive to Oakdale. It’s easier for me to drive and listen than talk. What are things like where you’re from?”

“A lot less crazy,” I admitted. “For starters, we don’t have dragons.”

“Weeeeeeird,” she breathed. “I can’t imagine…really? No dragons at all?”

“Oh, it gets weirder than that,” Malcolm said. “No Donestre, no spider-people, no trolls, no talking bats, and no witch territories. And Alice is shacked up with an alpha werewolf.”

“He’s cute, though,” I added. “He owns a security company and he almost never kills anyone.”

Lucy drove for a few beats in silence.

“Your world sounds kind of broken, to be honest,” she said finally.

Malcolm snorted. “Funny you should say that.”

For two hours Lucy drove, on high alert for roadside dangers, while Malcolm and I told her what life was like back home.

We encountered numerous ghosts, more of the raccoon-things, which Lucy said were called lotoru, and a number of shadowy creatures that eluded the vehicle’s bright supe lights. We saw no men with long hair and furry ears—and no other vehicles except a convoy of trucks guarded