Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,46
even though she couldn’t be his, was destined for another.
“I don’t think I’m the first witch they’ve targeted.” She sounded as tired as she looked, her voice weak, tearing at him, increasing the need to go to her and tend to her, even when he wasn’t sure what he could do.
“I don’t think so either.” He hated the way she looked down at her knees as he said that, how worry creased her brow and she picked at her dress, looking small and vulnerable.
Darkness rose within him, a snarling and twisted thing that demanded he protect her.
Roared at him to hunt those who were a threat to her before they could get near her again.
Ares slowly stood. “How the hell did they breach a ward on the mansion?”
His older brother stroked Megan’s hair, a constant motion, as if he needed to feel her beneath his fingers to make himself believe that she was safe, there with him.
Daimon could understand why Ares was shaken. The mansion was the one place that should be safe, impenetrable.
Valen and Cal shrugged at the same time. Sometimes, the similarities between them were frightening. Same athletic build. Same moody personality. Same recklessness. The only thing that had made them stand apart once was the colour of their eyes. Even their hair had been the same golden colour until Eva had decided to dye Valen’s a neon shade of violet.
Marek was too quiet, and Daimon wasn’t the only one who noticed it.
Keras twisted the silver band on his thumb around it as his green gaze settled on their brother.
Marek must have felt the weight of expectation on his shoulders, because he looked at Daimon and then Keras, and said, “The wraith.”
“What about that bastard?” Daimon snarled, the darkness getting the better of him as it conjured images of Esher in the Underworld, hunting that daemon.
“Eli stabbed me with his blade. He must have taken my memories as he did with Esher.” Marek looked at Keras, his dark eyebrows furrowing slightly above his earthy eyes as he shoved his hand through the wavy lengths of his short hair, pushing it back. “It was after we changed the wards after Eli penetrated them to save Lisabeta… When we all picked a ward and kept it secret.”
“Where did you place your ward?” Keras’s deep voice was calm, but held a note of concern that echoed in his eyes.
“The maple in the south-east corner.”
Keras looked to Daimon.
Daimon nodded. “That was the one that went down.”
“I can pick another ward,” Marek said.
Keras shook his head and worried his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as his black eyebrows drew down, his green eyes falling to rest on the golden mats beneath his feet. Something was troubling his brother, and he wasn’t the only one who could see it. Ares watched Keras closely, the concern that filled his eyes growing.
“I will send a Messenger to Father to ask for a new one.” Keras spoke those words slowly, and something dawned on Daimon.
He was worried about admitting to their father that they had messed something else up, and Daimon couldn’t blame him. As the oldest brother, Keras had taken on the role of leader of their small force, and with that role came the responsibility for everything that went wrong as well as right.
Hades didn’t look favourably upon failure.
He had drummed that into all of them from an early age.
Marek looked at everyone in turn, and Daimon couldn’t recall the last time his older brother had looked as if he felt he had fucked up.
“Don’t sweat it.” Ares’s deep voice rolled over the room like a calming tide and seemed to set Marek at ease. “Nothing bad happened and it wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could have done about it.”
Keras continued to stare at the mats.
“We could have changed the ward sooner,” Marek put in.
Keras finally lifted his head, settling his gaze on Marek. “We could have, but none of us thought to do it. This is on all of us.”
But Keras would be the one to take the full force of their father’s disappointment and anger.
Marek looked as if he wanted to say something, but Ares shook his head, and Marek’s face crumpled. Ares was right. Offering to be the one to tell their father about this wouldn’t change the outcome. As far as their father was concerned, Keras was responsible for what happened, and he would lay the blame squarely on his shoulders and his shoulders alone.