Chapter Eighteen - A Box and a Brother

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"What do you mean, kidnapped?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Daddy didn't miss a beat. "I can't sense him. I don't know where he's at, and neither do any of his subjects. It's as if he's disappeared. Vanished."

The sick feeling of dread does a jig in my stomach, making me groan. James and I didn't get along, that much was for certain, but still, deep in our past, there was a time when we didn't hate each others guts. My heart flutters in my chest. What if the Archangel took him? What if he's got that damned blade pressed to James's throat right now?

"We have to find him!"

"That is why I have brought you here; To give you the supplies you're going to need on the surface."

"Supplies?" Avery and I ask in unison. It's the first time I heard his voice since he arrived, it's smooth, velvet essence filling my chest with a strange breed of longing that I hadn't felt in over five hundred years.

My father practically hums power. "Well of course. With the three of you on the surface, you're bound to attract some sort of trouble. And that trouble is bound to attract Archangels. Did you forgot why I split you up for half a millenia?"

All three of us shake our head no. How could we forget? If the brothers experience was anything like mine - it was lonely and empty. I had some human companions to keep me company some of the nights that made up my existence, but none of them knew me, or who I was. It was nothing like sharing a bed with a Horsemen.

As if reading my thoughts, Avery's bright green eyes find mine, burning with a smothering desire. I gulp, blush rushing to my cheeks and turn my attention back to my father. Get yourself back together, Mara. Avery will be your undoing.

With a flick of his hand, three succubi shuttle into the room, each carrying a satin red pillow cradled within their arms. Their eyes glow crimson as they kneel in front of my father, their heads bowed in a curtsy. A flicker of silver light catches my eyes. On each of the satin pillows sits a dagger, at least two feet in length. The blade's themselves are about a foot long, curving in the middle to mirror a half moon, the tip sharp and deadly. A female gargoyle shuffles in next, in all her True Form glory. But something's wrong. She doesn't have wings.

There's a red cloth secured around her front, creating an 'X' that weaves around her to secure a lump on her back. I gasp when I realize what it is.

A baby clings to her, it's tiny fist clutching scarred knobs where her wings should have been. I can see the tips of it's tiny wings from the red cocoon it's nestled in, along with its alligator like tail that hangs and sways with the female's movements. It has bright lime green eyes with feline pupils that seem to dilate while looking at me. The face of the child reminds me of a human lizard mix; with a plump face and shortened snout. Short little knobs sprout between two folded ears. Upon seeing me, the child opens it's snout to show sharp, needle like teeth that remind me of a puppies, and it makes bubbly, gurgling sounds.

"What happened to your wings?" My voice is harsh, coarse even.

The female jumps at the sound of my words, like she's a frightened animal and I'm the predator. Her bright green eyes hold the same quality as the child's and something snaps in my brain. "Is that your child?"

At those words, the female hisses, baring canines my way and reaches behind her to cradle the bundle closer to her back. I'd never seen a gargoyle mother being protective of her child. Normally the children are abandoned at birth and handed to another female who has no emotional tie to the child what so ever. They raise the children to be deadly and cunning, and at a certain age of maturity, they're sent to the training grounds on the opposite side of the kingdom. There, they learn how to kill and protect us 'royals'. It's quite an effective system.

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