greeting. “I’ll remove her from the premises and then eliminate the threat as planned.”
He’d informed Bane of his planned methods to prevent the end of days, and Death had agreed. Annihilate one necessary piece of the threat, and he would eliminate the whole. Much the way he’d cut off the head of a certain general back in the sixteen-hundreds and, in effect, decimated the entire army.
The battle looming on his current horizon, the one that justified his entire existence, was the most important one of all. He’d spent many lifetimes honing his body to be as powerful as the mystical sword he wielded. His time had come. Not that he cared for the whining, entitled people he encountered daily, but he was a man of honor, and he’d fulfill this commitment to protect their world or die trying.
“I could kill her for you. Death is my specialty,” Bane offered.
“No. This one is mine.” He’d relish completing his duty. “My sword will cut through any protective spells she’s wrought. I’ll succeed where Nick failed. When you hear from me again, our fears for the future of mankind will be extinct.”
“Good luck, then, friend.”
Dru pocketed his phone and set out to locate the luggage carousel where she’d arrive to claim her bags. He’d seen pictures of Moira, the witch Nick had failed to conquer. He would not make the same mistake with her sister.
Four born of one. If Gwen’s divinations were correct, the witch headed his way would open the Second Seal, his Seal, and he intended to stop her. No problem. The way he figured it, he only needed to eliminate one of the four to eradicate the prophecy outlining the end of time.
He’d concede Nick had no idea who he’d been dealing with when he’d met Moira. None of them realized their time had come and that Moira would be capable of breaking the First Seal. Still, once discovered, he would have killed her, put the mission before his own personal feelings instead of allowing her power over him to sway his actions.
Now the torch had passed to him, and he would succeed. He’d stop the travesty. He’d be the one to save the world. It was a heavy weight to bear, but he was an excellent soldier, a cunning warrior, born specifically for this monumental task.
Overhead clouds greeted Claire as the plane landed in Seattle. She would have preferred a brilliant sun heating the afternoon, but something soft and welcoming hovered in the air despite the gray day.
“I hate flying,” said the older woman sitting in the seat next to her. “It’s always a relief when we’re back on the ground.”
Claire smiled. She’d been cool when the plump grandmotherly-type had squeezed into the seat next to her back in Chicago, meaning to exchange pleasantries and then promptly tune her out with a pair of headphones. Social graces were not her forte. But Mrs. Sandra Howington kept right on talking until Claire realized they were halfway to Seattle. The sweet, older lady was on her way home to her loving husband after visiting her daughter and newest grandchild.
“Flying doesn’t bother me,” she said to Sandy. She’d never thought much about dying. There would be no family or friends to mourn her. In some aspects, it might be a relief to be released from the solitary life that had been forced upon her.
“You’re lucky then. It terrifies me.”
Claire stood along with the other passengers. “I’d say you’re the lucky one, finding a man like Dennis.”
Sandy followed her off the plane, and they walked together to retrieve their luggage. “You know, we have never had a serious fight in the forty years we’ve been married,” she said as she struggled to pull a tapestry suitcase from the conveyor belt.
Claire couldn’t imagine loving someone that long, let alone never having an argument. “That’s amazing,” she said as she helped the woman wrangle her suitcase to an upright position.
As Claire straightened, her inner alarm fired, sending a tremble racing through her. She glanced across the carousel to find a man with intense, midnight eyes watching her as though he expected her to make a sudden, lethal move. Her pulse leapt as a feeling of unease washed over her. She was used to men looking at her with lust-filled eyes, but their gazes never left her feeling this naked.
Dark, military-short hair covered his head, and a hint of a beard outlined his hard, chiseled face. A long-sleeved black t-shirt stretched across his massive chest and